I was totally taken aback walking through Hopkins on my arrival back in Cleveland. I've been in something of a bubble out in sparsely populated, active Eagle county, and getting back to the midwest made me realize how damn fat this country is. Walking through the concourse watching people waddle up to Sbarro was really fairly appalling. Of course, I'm being a touch hypocritical as I went out for a brief jog today and almost died. I could literally feel the fat dripping off of my tell-tale heart.
We had a small party for my father's 60th birthday last night, which was notable primarily due to the relative civility everyone displayed, and by the absence of a certain salient feature of such events. That feature was my father's mustache, which he shaved shortly before the event. My mother, who has known my father since she was younger than I am, had actually never seen my father sans stache. My dad has had his mustache for 39 years---and seven presidents. The poor man is having a bit of separation anxiety, as well as bewilderment at the strange sensation breathing through his nose now imparts to his upper lip.
My grandmother, who transported chicken liver wrapped in tinfoil to our house in her purse today, is having hip replacement surgery tomorrow, so we are all a bit anxious. Then again, as my mom quite correctly points out, on paper Irene is probably healthier than any of us!