The question remains whether or not I will actually eat my food court barbecue today. (Editor’s Note: he did. — CM) As it stands, it’s an unattractive, brackish mush of potato, corn, and “pork butts” with a side of slaw. I’ll broach it eventually, since I refuse to survive on Trader Joe’s trail mix and water, but it will be with caution, not passion. Brian, however, seemed to lock in—he is 2-2 on being first to return for lunch, and first to finish his meal. So inspired was he after eating today that he tossed his napkin for a cross-bunker three and sunk it.
I wish I had more anecdotes to broadcast, but the booth is performing its usual, healthy abandonment. I say healthy because no halfwheelers in the booth is an indication that the guys are doing their job, namely, visiting other booths. There is, of course, the slight danger of extended hobnobbing that their absence might portend, someone getting sidetracked by liquor or chat, but mostly it’s productive vagrancy. Since the days look the same to me, since I don’t hardly leave the bunker except for food and potty, I don’t have “news,” per se. You’ll have to wait for a Day 2 Recap for things like show floor traffic patterns, demeanor of vendors, etc. The only headlines inside the post-and-lintel are those inside my head. I did take a second this morning to jot down this wondrous quote from William Blake, “I possess my visions and my peace. They have bartered their birthright for a mess of pottage.”
What does that mean? Feel free to comment.
See you tomorrow,
Kyle