Expression: A Means to an End

If expression is a means to an end
Where do I begin
Perhaps with a pen
Or maybe a pencil
But I don’t like to copy or erase
So I’ll throw away the stencil
But I make a lot of mistakes
Why not keep it simple
In the beginning at least
Go from an humble start
So that I might increase
So I sketch out the plan
Pull out the crayons
And start to think I’m the man
But now I don’t like it so simple
So then I begin to scribble
Wildly across the canvas
Because I can’t stand
Feeling so simple
As a drop of water
Forms a little dimple
On the side of the paper
But it burns
And I see the vapor
And as it rains
It bores
Through the page
And I’m not bored anymore
Because of rage
But in my pain
I did away with that stage
So the lights are dim now
And I feel like I’m in a cage
It’s just me and Him now
And I so desperately want to change

…That’s as far as I got…or as far as I felt like going at this point.

You can read this poem a number of ways…

It reads like the beginning as much as it reads like the end.

Let me know how you feel about it…

The Good Doctor

Was that Dre on the "Walk It Out" Remix?

I don't know anymore either.

Well, after not taking advantage of the insight to buy stock in Campbell's Soup, I instead decided to take the 2-1 odds in Vegas that there will be a hip-hop song about Kool-Aid within the next two months...

Eh. This blog isn't coming out write...right...

I don't know. I mean, I don't get writer's block; writing is a continuous way of life. The way things are going with work/school/church, and how fast they're going creates more than enough dramatics and enough of a template where I can't afford to not think about the present and the future, feel me?

Well, turns out I'll maintain the same post @ the Standard...doing the thing as a sports writer. In other news...I know a lot of you are wondering about the 9...but, hey, I don't know anymore either.

Man. None of this is coming out write...right.

New joint coming soon.

Real talk.

My Past, My Future, and Charles Dickens

" . . .suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape."

"Now, I return to this young fellow. And the communication I have got to make is, that he has great expectations."

--excerpts from Charles Dickens' Great Expectations

My friends,

These quotes...man, they chronicle everything prior to before this moment and after this moment...

...With the moment being that my sports editor's last day is today.

And apparently, yours truly is to be, in name or otherwise, what Jordan was to Magic and Bird, and what !Kobe! was supposed to be to Mr. Jordan.

Dramatics aside, the first quote also represents the recent angst I've felt as a result of a lot of the people around me making the same mistakes they've made in the past, and trying my hardest not to be part of the majority.

It also represents the angst in having, well, great expectations.

Which brings me to the second quote. Now, as a few of you know, I am among (I don't have the exact number here) of Americans without a college degree. However, I find myself with the enviable task (*smile*) of filling in for our departed sports editor, whom, for what it's worth, I learned a lot from.

Should be fun.

Well...here's where I am...



Tired of watching the train go by, and if I'm going to hop on, might as well be the conductor...

The Good Doctor

House of Cards (Hola Lady L)

I walk into this house of cards
Made from shards
Of good times, some hard
Can't say any were bad
Because when you were mad
I was dying with a smile on my face
But enough of that
Let's get back
To this place
The halls marked with your concern
I go other places and get floored
When my text tiles go ignored
But you would never let me feel that burn
You answer me coolly, smoothly
With cocoa butter words
And are undeterred when they
Are periodically unreturned
Because you know that I'm always thinking of you
And now here I am in plain view
You always wanted a poem from yours true
And here it is right on cue
Now out of this house of cards
Let's build a house of hearts...

Glad I could be your friend,

The Good Doctor

So, What's On Your Mind?

...Not much here...

Chillin' after deadline at work...vibin' off of the Justus League's "Foreign Exchange"...yeah, kinda underground...

Really, though, not too much, for a change...so I figure I might take this time to catch up on some errands around the house, and work on staying ahead...

At any rate...what's on your mind?

Let me knooooooooooooooooooow...

The Good Doctor

When Things are Looking Bleak

Dee dee doo dee, doodle lee dee…
Light, hey, the truth is the light, heh heh, it’s prophetic…
That’s the truth though, the truth is the light…
Bleek…saxophones…
John Coltrane…
Bip bop boop boo…
That’s some intricate (stuff) though…
--Bleek Gilliam, Mo Better Blues

Sheldon Jackson Lee.

Sheldon Jackson Lee was the absolute further thing away from my mind when I woke up Tuesday morning at 8:35 a.m., but…

I should’ve given it a little more time.

8:35 turned into noon faster than the big wheel on the Price is Right…

Noon turned to 4 p.m. faster than she turned on he or he turned on she on your favorite soap opera.

It was then that younger brother walked into the door, and I figured I should get up off the couch, which is where I’d been since…well, Bob Barker walked out of those double doors…maybe before that.

So, YB walks in the door, and he falls asleep too, ha ha ha ha ha ha…but eventually cats get up, and cats walked outside.

Well, that’s when I finally decided upon some errands, and decided to clean out my car and the room…

And YB is outside when I clean the car…

And we’re talking, just about life, and he says to me…

I feel like I should be doing something else…

Ton of bricks.

“I feel you, YB …you know what I do when I feel like that? I just do something constructive…”

“It’s like when (my mind’s jumbled) at night…I just try to get some rest and focus on the next day, instead of just sitting up and doing nothing.”

So I did that, washed some clothes, got a couple of things done.

Sprinkled among the day’s events, of course, were the concerns of my people.

Family and friends alike, and this is what gave the day that overcast feel.

An exam here, an issue here, the lone ray of sun that was a friend declaring her desire to be abstinent was quickly blotted out by someone not feeling their best; and not wanting to share what was the matter.

I respect that, but as a person deeply concerned with you all, the not knowing what is the heart of the matter brings on the blues.

And then came the night.

The night was nice, the wind was high and I went to see a friend of mine…

Yep, a friend.

To put it poetically, she had the heart of Indigo, and the figure of Clarke.

And they both had on the same red dress…

Well, a cute tee and some jogging pants; it’s all the same, really.

What happened, you ask?

Not too much, just a bunch of wandering and wondering, and helping her little sister with her homework…and fielding some questions from her mother like Ken Griffey Jr. in his prime…

------------------------
(The Good Doctor), are you single?

“Yes ma’am, I’m single…”

Ken, are you looking for a girlfriend?

“No, not really…”

Ok, I understand…
------------------------

It’s love though, even as Cinderella tells me she has to go to work early in the morning, and fittingly, the scene disappears before midnight…

Which leaves me with the wind and her scent…

And a good friend of mine.

So, I post at Jig’s, and he flips it to HBO.

What’s on TV, you ask?

Sheldon.

Jackson.

Lee.

Figured I’d wash down a day of adversity with a documentary about that hurricane.

“When the Levees Broke”, a cold, wry view of the events of Katrina, if I might say so, and a 4-hour (plus) documentary that was well worth the time spent, and the director?

Yep, good ol’ Spike.

And I looked over the day’s events, over successes and failures of myself and others, and really didn’t want to make this about my trumpet; my sound, but it’s all that some people think I hear.

Truthfully, I want to hear what you have to say though, even if it’s the blues, because for one, I like good music, and two, we can go find some sunshine together.

Take it easy,

The Good Doctor

Nine for Ya Mind, Part 1

And the 9 is underway...
Understand that perception is reality, friends...
You have been forewarned, ha ha ha ha ha!

--------------------
Open Pamphlet Says:
I hate black people.
--------------------
*short intermission*
--------------------
Iceman Says:
"What up world, this is Sway...and THIS, is my inexplicable headwrap."

On September 21st, I attended an event called "The Minstrel Show." Co-sponsored by the Black Student's Union, and Delta Sigma Theta Sorority Inc., the event's purpose was to discuss the history of minstrel shows, and the relevance to today's culture. There is plenty to talk about from that night, but first:

This event was also being organized by students at RIT(whereas I go to the obviously better known University of Rochester). While a Delta was there, advertising for the event, and elderly white woman approached the table. "Are you all bringing back minstrel shows?" Obviously dumbfounded, the Delta explained that it was actually discussing minstrel shows. Unfazed, the lady continues: "Well I just love minstrel shows, my siblings and I used to always gather around and watch them sing and dance. I sure do miss them." [This is the part where I respond....but what do you say to that. Really?]

It just so happened that I finally decided to listen to Little Brother's "The Minstrel Show" album that week. That will be saved for a future blog, however. The event itself began with crowd participation. The hosts were looking for volunteers to do the "Chicken Noodle Soup."(Apparently, the Good Doctor has spared himself of this great achievement in black history. God is good.) After finally coercing a girl to get up and dance, she was joined by two other people in the back......

wearing black face. [This is the part where I explain...but you all are intelligent.]

So with that introduction, we began talking about the history of minstrel shows. Quite a few people didn't know at least something about minstrel shows; but before I pass judgment, I'll just assume that once they know what it is, they know they don't want to know too much about it--kinda like watching Rosewood again if you knew how pissed off you'd be at nearby white people. Anyway, the conversation then shifted to modern day coons, and the main feature was the Ying Yang Twins(HEEEEEEGH!?). This, actually, is where the discussion took an unfortunate turn.

Instead of dealing with the bigger problem, which is getting ourselves in a position where we can give our people better opportunities to make it, people tried to persecute Lil Jon and Ying Yang Twins, even Damon Wayans and Chappelle(we did see the Pixie clip from The Lost Episodes). To some people, if your behavior is anything near what we consider unacceptable, you are written off. And that's unfortunate. When an individual is given poor options, what can they do but make poor choices?

Like my post, eventually the event came to an end. You see, this is a topic that could go on forever, because talking about it is only the beginning, with no means to an end. If we really are going to make the changes, we have to apply the action verb, and MAKE the change. People who don't know any better need to become more aware of their surroundings, and people who do know better need to stop completely isolating themselves from the rest. For example, a little side game I played the day of the event, was to dress up in a suede or orange jumpsuit, black du-rag, orange NC hat, a t-shrt that says "Crunk" in the front, and my recently bought Tims(first pair I ever owned). And I wore this outfit while I did my low-power, low-voltage circuit research; while I attended my class on Semiconductor Devices; and when I went there that evening with at least 4 or 5 points that made people stop and go "Hmmm." So it's very unfortunate how many people judged me who didn't see me demonstrate my God-given ability to think...but I guess they need to ask about those Rattlers next time.

Again, there's so much I could write on, but I'm making a blog post, not a novel, so hopefully this was sufficient and worth your time. Stay up.

Iceman













--------------------
*short intermission*
--------------------
11th Letter Says:
You heard the Nine
And you started running for no reason
Running out of reasons
To start believing
We believe in nothing but the way of the gun
Either she trust one and he busts one
Or he disgust one and before he discuss son
The youngun’ is gone
They both bust one and ask questions later
Then the smoke is blown off the gun and catch vapors
End life premature
Bring in life premature
Then just content
By simply being able to endure
Fertilize our minds with manure
No!
I want to see miracles grow
I want hard work to show
I want young kids to know
I want old folks to know
That knowledge is power
And that we’re in the final hour
We just been on CP sched
I’m saying be fifteen minutes ahead
Now from fifteen minutes behind
That’s a 30 minute rewind
Now look at that
That’s a 180 degree turn
Around this slave ship
Oh I’ma make you learn
The sequel to Carter G
I don’t mess with Mickey D’s
Or Burger King
They murder kings
Not hardly tryna let them get at my arteries
No laffy taffy
Or chicken noodle soup
Tired of this junk
I need some soul food
All this lukewarm funk
Got me in a cold mood
Where the soul went?
Walk on the wrong road in life
You get ya soles bent
Walk on the wrong road in life
You get ya soul bent
It’s all making me so tense that…
I think I wanna put a nine to my mind
And fire the desire to give
Not the desire to live
But I’d be killing myself nonetheless, you dig?
I love black people
I love white people
I love all people
Too bad we not equal
In fact
I’m mad we don’t treat other folks
As well as we treat dogs and cats
Some folks are helpless; punchless
And that’s just in the States
People overseas are dying in bunches
And we over here tripping off race
Why do we plug our problems into a live feed
With frayed wires
For all the world to see
It’s in newspapers and it’s on TV
So we have a lot of shock value
But no juice
And Gin, and then cats still rappin’ about chains?
When we gon’ get loose?
Race isn’t a part of the problem to me
So what is the solution
Gotta heal this moral leprosy
The sores all over our collective body
From the wars that we fight illogically
So as the cover’s exposed, the skin is peeling
I’m feeling like we need to ask for some healing
Granted I know of 10 men
That were healed back when
And nine didn’t come back
But you listening to the descendant
Of the one that did on this track
--------------------
...To be continued...

The Search...

Today's sermon was derived from Isaiah 3:16-26, and brought up some real interesting points.

This was today's responsive reading.

Why post? Just because.

Proverbs 31:10-31

10 Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. 11 The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. 12 She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. 13 She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. 14 She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar. 15 She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens. 16 She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard. 17 She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. 18 She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. 19 She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. 20 She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. 21 She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. 22 She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple. 23 Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. 24 She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. 25 Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. 26 She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. 27 She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. 28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. 29 Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all. 30 Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised. 31 Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.

Still searching,
The Good Doctor

The Riddler

A riddle for my friends:

What happens when you cross a speeding ticket for 63 in a 35 construction zone with NO PROOF OF INSURANCE w/ being tardy to a luncheon with the top college basketball coaches in the nation?

The answer:

An autographed program for my aunt from UNC head coach Roy Williams, and a photo op of Williams and myself.

------------------

Now, anyone reading that knows that the above riddle HAD to be a triple-cross, seeing as how there’s no way I should be doing this blog after being the party in question in reference to the riddle.

At any rate, here I am.

Especially grateful.

Sitting in the car, I tell you, I haven’t prayed like that in a while…just hoping to make the best out of a situation where I was late for a work assignment, about to receive a ticket, and woefully underdressed to be attending a luncheon…

But somewhere between pride and prayer, between being forthright and being frustrated, the best was made out of a good situation.

I’d be foolish to tell you it had anything to do with me, absolutely foolish.

The excuses are unimportant, yet are as follows:

(Luncheon was at noon, got a good night’s sleep only for my alarm clock to apparently not go off. The last time that happened? Freshman year Cal I, the day of an exam, and Ms. Lattimore *smiles from some of you* was kind enough to let me have a retake…and winded up exempting…the ticket came where I came off the curve like Jeff Gordon, I ain’t gon’ lie…I was trying to get to that meeting…and ran smack into a checkpoint. All bad, all bad…)

Nope, no need for excuses. Things turned out for the best.

So here we are. Usually, when things like that happen to me, it gets me pumped up…and well, I’m pumped up, so…

Here’s hoping that the work we do for God is prosperous, and that most importantly, we are working for God.

No more lies, no more excuses, no more riddles…because it is in the heat of the mistakes we make that we either falter, or look at those mistakes and realize how much we really can improve, which for me, inspired me to take a long, hard look at my existence.

So here I am, again…stronger than ever.

Enjoy your weekend, folks!

The Good Doctor

Precursor to Nine for Ya Mind

Hey guys,

Was talking to two friends, and we talk a bunch about life and love; race and religion.

Well, one of those two said something that had a certain shock value to it this week, and thus, I decided to do a team blog called Nine for Ya Mind.

It will likely be sprinkled in between the other blogs, but I’ll set it off on the sidebar so it’s easily accessible.

Why Nine For Ya Mind?

Because it’s going to be a three-part saga, with three of us weighing in on whatever we choose…and you guys can do the math.

Why Nine For Ya Mind?

Why not?

The Good Doctor

Sheet Music

This one is for all the folks that have ever had the pleasure of hearing FAMU’s Marching 100 Band in person; and especially, to all the folks that entered FAMU in the Fall of 2001...

The Notes to this Song (written by Sakina Bowser, Carnell Hawthorne, remastered by Black College Wire):

---------
Seventy-four members of the Florida A&M University Marching 100 have been placed on academic probation and, separately, the entire band faces possible suspension after accusations that some members stole sheets, pillows and other articles from a hotel after a road game in Detroit.
"As of right now we are not pressing charges; furthermore, the school has been very cooperative in negotiations. We have not restricted the band from returning," said Raynard Lawler, the residential manager of the Detroit Marriott hotel.
After the team's losing 34-14 performance Sept. 2 against Delaware State University at the Detroit Football Classic at Ford Field, members of the Marching 100 returned to the hotel to rest before the long bus ride back to Tallahassee, band members said.
Hotel officials stopped the band members Sunday morning as the band was departing, alleging items were missing from their hotel rooms, Band Director Julian White said.
Body towels, face towels, pillows, irons and comforters were among the items recovered, delaying their return by three hours, White said.
"Some of the property was recovered and immediately given back," White said.
White said he could not give an estimate of how much was stolen.
The incident could result in suspension of the entire band from traveling from Nov. 18, the date of the Florida Classic, through the end of the spring semester, White said in a memorandum distributed to band members and university officials.
---------

This song played quietly underneath the sounds of FAMU’s and TSU’s bands…though true fans of the Classic may have noticed…

FAMU’s band was somewhat limited, and the diminished sound of the traditionally amplified bunch was noticeable, even without TSU’s band drowning them out…

Sadly, the worst was yet to come.

For my folks that became legends of the Fall in ‘01, it is unimaginable to see the depths of how FAMU’s band has fallen, especially having seen the Marching 100 establish its dominance time after time during our freshman year.

The triumph of FAMU’s band accentuated our free spirits; the crisp drumline matched our heartbeats, the sounds of the tuba capture the rise and fall of our emotions; the horns were the herald to the dawning of a new era.

The crescendo for me, personally?

Had to be the game against Southern freshman year…I mean, the bands battling back and forth was background music what was happening on the field…like one of those NFL Films videos…you had current third-string Jaguars QB Quinn Gray on the run…and running, and running…and then, he heaved a pass that if I saw the Frog Prince right now and ran this story back, a big smile would come across his face and the floodgates would open to all the memories of freshman year.

But, the pass. Gray heaves what had to be a 60-yard hail mary on the run…off his back foot…for the FAMU lead…the band is poised to play the subsequent touchdown music…I hear a pin drop, and the ball is in a receiver’s hands, and…

How. HOW?!?!?!?!? Does that ball squirt out of his hands and harmlessly in the end zone…

But so many battles…Southern, NC A&T…I mean, people leave after the band’s played…not that I agree with that AT ALL, but it displays the power of that orange and green sound at…

Halftime.

It wasn’t about FAMU being down by 7-3 at halftime because of a blown coverage IN THE END ZONE that led to TSU’s touchdown, oh nooooooooooo…it was about…

This wasn’t my band, I thought…not the band that provided proverbial soundtracks for the likes of Marquis Grissom, Althea Gibson, and directly to Bullet Bob Hayes and yours truly…

Sure enough, though…even with small numbers…

You can’t deny the Nine.

Those cats look…cool.

If they could be renamed, I’d rename them the Inevitable. They walk, so slow, so sure…nine drum majors…yes, nine…the true heralds to what has traditionally been a historic experience.

Ultimately a ruse.

The band played ‘hits’ like Rihanna’s Unfaithful, which, oh irony of ironies, I would’ve rather heard SOS.

(The preceding was a test to see if you’re in step…)

When the band came in formation to play the Family Guy intro…I was stunned.
Stunned like…seeing Reggie Miller push off MJ in ‘98 to make that three…knowing that MJ was going to gut-punch him in a few minutes…and watching that three go halfway down and come out…

Stunned like…I can’t believe John Kasay kicked that ball out of bounds and I NEED EVERYONE from the Carolina Club to get as far away from me as possible right now, man…and seeing Iceman just as stunned.

Stunned like…stunned like you were when you found out I wasn’t coming back for my senior year…

(The preceding was a test to see if you’re in step…)

Just stunned.

My homegirl said she was going to cry…

But why cry?

The thieves of those sheets were only clairvoyants.

Because for the first time ever, orange and green blood shown on the Georgia Dome turf, on any turf, field, or anything for that matter…

Tennessee State’s band wasn’t amazing, but it was just enough to show up the Kings of the Seven Hills…and all they had to cover up the wounds were those fateful towels…

But what do the fans have to cover theirs?

The Good Doctor

Early Prototypes of Huey Freeman's Greatest Invention

All credit to this story and photo goes to the Associated Press.

Extending gloved hands skyward in racial protest, U.S. athletes Tommie Smith, center, and John Carlos stare downward during the playing of the Star Spangled Banner after Smith received the gold and Carlos the bronze for the 200 meter run at the Summer Olympic Games in Mexico City on Oct. 16, 1968. Australian silver medalist Peter Norman is at left. Peter Norman, the Australian who stood alongside the U.S. athletes staging the civil rights protest from the medal podium at the 1968 Olympics, died Tuesday October 3, 2006, of a heart attack. He was 64.

Norman won the silver medal in the 200 meters at the Mexico City Games. Smith set a world record in winning the gold medal and Carlos took the bronze, and their civil rights protest became a flash point of the Olympics.

Smith and Carlos stood shoeless, each wearing a black glove on his raised, clenched fist. They bowed their heads while the national anthem played.

Norman, a physical education teacher, stood on the front podium during the ceremony. He wore a human rights badge on his shirt in support of the two Americans and their statement against racial discrimination in the United States.

"It was like a pebble into the middle of a pond, and the ripples are still traveling," Norman said last year.

Smith, Carlos and Norman drew criticism and threats for their actions, gestures that came in the aftermath that year of the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy.

"I was happy to identify with (Smith) and the principles he believed in," Norman was later quoted as saying.

Athletics Australia chief executive Danny Corcoran said Norman remained heavily involved in sports. Last year, he was reunited with Smith and Carlos at San Jose State for the unveiling of a statue commemorating the 1968 protest.

"Whilst only Smith and Carlos were recognized in bronze, as alumni of the university, Peter was, as always, happy to have played his role," Corcoran said.

"Peter will be remembered not only for his success as an athlete and his humanitarian gesture in Mexico City, but also for his service to athletics and the community and for his warmth and friendship."

Norman was a five-time national champion in the 200 and his time of 20.06 seconds in Mexico City still stands as the Australian record.

-------Now for a word from the BLOG-------

"Support your own!"
--Little Brother

It wasn't just a Black Power movement...it was a human race movement...and big ups to Norman, even if he appears to be standly idly by, for speaking up and out against such injustices.

So if you're reading this BLOG, it doesn't matter what color you are...just put ya fist up.

The Good Doctor

Off Days (or, the first Saturday and Sunday I’ve had off in FOREVER)

…What is this place?…It seems like I haven’t been here forever…

Of course, I could easily be talking about the BLOG, heh heh. Right now though, I’m talking about the weekend…having a weekend off for the first time in…probably since I started working at the Standard.

A year and some change.

Oh well, figured I’d take the weekend off to go check out the Atlanta Football Classic between FAMU and TSU, but…the weekend became so much more.

I left a bunch behind too, as I got an e-mail from a friend about the “Fry That Chicken” video, which shouldn’t be the great issue, but should rather be a bullet in the clip, with one already in the hole called 9 for Ya Mind.

So that’s that.

I’m going to try to break things up here to make it easy to read…

I’m going to post two in-depth blogs about the FAMU-TSU football game and the halftime ‘show’, and also what I did on my ‘off-day’ Sunday.

Let’s see…

Oh yeah, and well, sooner or later, my team bloggers and I will get things off the ground for the 9.

In the meantime, there’s no reason why I can’t/won’t drop a precursor, and that is on tap as well.

So let’s see…

That should keep me busy for the week, and also keep me movin’.

So, in short…how was Atlanta?

This voyage was OK, I mean, I caught up with a few folks, spent time with my brother, watched FAMU win a game, and picked up a nice little cold in a rush to get back to the house.

There was unspeakable joy, and of course, suppressed anger…as suppressed as the pressure on my head with what has been downgraded to a head cold.

Talk to you (more in-depth) sooner.