Lots of news, some good, some not so good. I’m not sure where we left off, gentle readers. Had my dear old Dad broken his hip? Was I driving to Fairfield every day of my life to the tune of $3.35 a gallon? That was exhausting. Then there was the ill fated trip to Chicago. Yes, I bombed out for the first time in probably three years. The third time in my life. OTOH they had the rules so FUBAR that I really didn’t completely bomb out, but I should have been so I stripped down and sat in the audience only to have my name called for the Dead. Are you kidding me. Oh well, it is what it is. The good news: The Chop House. Creme brulee that’s off the hook. Morton’s of Chicago, in Chicago, yeah, it don’t get much better than that. The Mag Mile is in fact Magnificent. I’m back to the gym with a different workout. Dr. Squats. It’s been 112+ for four days running. I’m melting. I took the big man in the pool yesterday. It was 114 out and I was afraid his core temp was going to sneak up on him. At first it thought it was a suck ass idea, then he warmed up to it. He put his feet on the bottom of the pool and his front paws on the floaty thing. It was very cute. Weigh in 203 in Chicago. 206 this morning.