Oh, what an evening. Nothing of any significance whatsoever happened at work, but then I started driving home and, for the fourth unrelated time this year, my car got to shaking. This time, I correctly diagnosed the transmission as the problem. You see, when a car is shifting gears and it shakes, that is the old tranny acting up. I did make it home, luckily, then called Pa and explained my problem. It wasn’t the catalytic converter, motor mount, brake sensor, or alignment. I know so much about cars it’s scary.

Then Lauren and I grilled up some pork tenderloin. I may not know how to fix a transmission, but I sure as hell know how to light those charcoals. We gobbled up our dinner while watching “Pride of the Yankees,” the 1942 movie about the rise and tragic fall of Lou Gehrig. I commented how I think I would have been much better equipped to have lived through the 40’s and 50’s. I was a big fan of the movie, especially that foxy actress who played Eleanor Gehrig who lived to be nearly 100!

Now Jason is over drinking some Sangria wine, Lauren is knitting a very nice Maple Leafs hockey jersey, Nick just got back from Get Smart, and we’re all watching Scrubs. Word.