First Weeks, New Year

For anyone viewing Fox Sports last Sunday, yes, that was my cover story being waved around by Terry Bradshaw and Howie Long. Given that I would rather subject myself to an enema than watch a horde of overdeveloped men in tights fight over a ball for four hours, I didn’t know about it until my email inbox filled. I guess Terry liked the way I compressed his life into 2,500 words. (At least he didn’t jab a finger at the camera and advocate that the couch potatoes of America rise up and beat the crap out of yours truly for any misrepresentations; my morning commute is annoying enough without the risk of being cold-cocked by overweight Steelers fans.)

The Girl and I and our curiously mutual quirks are getting seriously domestic. Which is a bit of a high-wire feat considering we’re both working roughly a billion hours a week.