Friday, April 16, 2010
Well, I’m off for the weekend. Really: later this morning I fly to Boston and then drive to someplace in southern New Hampshire for a hockey tournament. That’s right, a hockey tournament. With a bunch of twentysomethings. The last time I went to one of these, your car radios were playing “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number” and “The Night Chicago Died.” Apparently, the guy who put together the team (composed mostly of people from the Nittany Hockey League) decided that he needed someone to drive up the team’s mean age and drive down the team’s mean talent level. I can do that!
I know, it’s crazy. It’s insane. And crazy. It’s like an insane clown posse—with magnets. But at least it’ll give me a chance to clear my head in the wake of Megan McArdle’s stinging rebuke to my post at Crooked Timber. That one will leave a mark, surely, a mark that will take a long time to heal. (And then Instapundit piled on! I am well and truly pwned.)
Anyway, wish me luck. My laptop is still in intensive care (day 12!), so I will be without internets for the duration. Which is all well and good, since I should be concentrating on forechecking instead. In the meantime, go Coyotes! And gratuitous Steely Dan allusions!