Last night my wife got lost in San Ramon after visiting a coworker whose daughter is in the hospital. She called me on her cellphone. I googled San Ramon and talked her back onto 680. Tonight she took the "other turn," which must be the correct one.
Except she got lost in Walnut Greek.
Phone. Google. Home safe. And she never stopped moving, which -- when she is alone in the car at night so sweet and pretty -- I prefer.
Next car: GPS!
Meanwhile, there is a fire down below. The blogside of the Tampa Tribune has picked up my innocent jibes from earlier in the week aimed at the University of South Florida, whose use of USF is foul and blasphemous if I may describe it in neutral language. I pointed this out in the nicest way possible.
Oh see the wit and wisdom that pours forth from the Sunshine state. Me being intentionally rude to SoFla (pronounced Sew-flah)?
Moi?
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