It'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.
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!.
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.