Honey, we’re home. Film en route was The Bourne Identity. Apparently Nathan Lane was in the first-class cabin the whole way from LAX. Saw him at the baggage pickup wearing a blue sweatshirt and an aura of studied inconspicuousness. Our car service never showed–apparently somebody’s assistant dropped the ball, again–but it was okay because we took a cab. It’s not like it was a big deal to stand around in the cold and rainy, anyhow. The apartment building still stands, and our home has not been burglarized. In our absence, we received 11 phone messages, 8 of which were pre-recorded spam; numberless skillions of e-mails; and about 40 lbs of good old-fashioned postal mail. Let the digging-out begin!
Much unpacking to do. But it’s good to be here.
This blog and its annotations are hereby returned to Eastern Standard Time. That is all.