So, I'm sitting at the Chili's in LaGuardia Airport, chillin' with a cold Sam Adams and reading Rolling Stone. I'm also sitting here mobile blogging. Woohoo. My flight doesn't leave until 6:00 (it's 4:30 now), so I plan on having at least one more giant, cold, Sam Adams so that I'll be woozie on the plane.
I'm going home to see my dad, who underwent colon cancer surgery last month and is now undergoing radiation therapy by pill. Which, I think, means I'm going to have to talk to him through his bedroom door or don surgical scrubs, not quite sure which.
Anyway, this will be the first time I've been able to see him since the surgery last month.
If the parental units haven't pulled the plug on the Internet, I'll still be blogging, from a Detroit perspective.
Right now, however, Rolling Stone and Sam Adams are calling my name.
Drink me, says Sam; read me, says Rolling Stone; eavesdrop on the guy sitting next to me talking loudly about meeting President Clinton and Broadway shows... Priceless.
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