Many people ask me whether I ever stop working and spend time with my family. (This presumes, of course, that my family actually wants me to spend time with them.)
Today, I’ve decided to shut it down for a few hours to head to a cabin in the middle of nowhere that my wife’s family has owned for 70 years. There will be fishing. Maybe some football throwing. Possibly a round or two of Frolf.
I’ve decided to take the pedal off the metal for a little while because: (1) it’s a beautiful weekend in most of the contiguous U.S.; (2) things in NFL circles are a little slow today; (3) we already have posted 15 stories since 7:00 a.m. ET; and (4) I’ve got three guys who can help me fill the gap, even though they’ll each be taking some time today to do other stuff.
That changes tomorrow, when we’ll have another person pulling the oar. (I specifically buried that disclosure as a reward for anyone who made it this far into a relatively meaningless story. Then again, most of my stories are relatively meaningless.) I’ll make the announcement tonight, right after watching the season finale of Mad Men and finding out whether anyone is going to fall down that damn elevator shaft. (I thought it was going to be Lane, but as it turns out he had a much shorter fall.)
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I’m going fishing. But I’ll be back. Unless the fish win.
Or unless they’ve installed a malfunctioning elevator at the cabin.