Saturday MorningIt's hot. It's still morning and it's still hot. It's hot everywhere. Hot as hell.
Except in our hotel. Jo and I left the Mississippi River Valley yesterday, drove across sun-baked Illinois and sun-baked Indiana until we reached our day's destination, sun-baked Louisville, Kentucky.
We'll drive today to Beckley, West Virginia. It will be hot. It's hot everywhere. Hot as hell.
Which makes me wonder: what will the weather be like in Virginia Beach during the reunion next week? It's always hot, but this year, it's hot everywhere. Hot as--well, you get the picture.
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I'm sorry to hear that Bob Grindle has to stay home this year. Apparently, I'm not the only person in the world with medical problems. We'll miss you, Boomer--aye!.
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On the other hand, I hear that Marty Nau will be here this year. A last minute medical event kept Marty home last year. I missed hearing him play, tho' I'm lucky; the radio host of the late-night jazz program on WVIK, Rock Island, plays Marty's recordings Marty can make a clarinet worthwhile listening to.
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