Psybot

I'm off to Justin and Dee's wedding in about four hours. It'll be great to fly from Hartford to Dallas/Fort Worth to Portland Oregon. Connecticut to Texas to Oregon. Seems like the smartest travel line. The good news is I'll gett to see Jerry Jones' massive football moon in Dallas. Cowboy stadium is 15, 20 miles from the airport but is SO FREAKING BIG it's easily seen. It's so big you can almost hear it's gravity. It's so big Mark Hammill thought it was a moon (Alec Guinness told him otherwise). Then from there, I get to fly half the length and the full breadth of the country . . . again, to get to Portland.

Coming back I have a more sensible flight from Portland to Chicago (which I say in my head in a Jeremy Clarkson voice) then back to Hartford . . . at 1 am . . . while a hurricane strikes.

Needless to say I packed extra socks and boxers in case I get to camp at O'Hare. It'd be like I'm Tom Hanks only without the Oscars, money, fame, NASA patches or WWII memorabilia.

Dianna's plan for today, after the kids get to sleep and Asher has gotten up his customary three hundred thirty thousand times, is to clean up the basement and get it ready for the inevitable flood. There's nothing better than watching the clock and waiting for you basement to leak all over itself. And by "nothing" I mean "everything."

Sigh.

But I'll have a good time while there - weddings are always fun. And if I'm stuck in Chicago too long, maybe I'll head to the Hall of Records and see what my dad was up to in the '60's.