How you know you’ve been married twenty-five years: She drives you crazy when she’s there; you go crazy when she’s not. Katie is on the road with some girlfriends this week, and I’m only slightly at loose ends. Which means I may not be posting as much as usual for the next few days. (Did I hear Warren say phew? How many times does a Catholic blogger have to write about David Foster Wallace, anyway? Once? Twice? Enough already!)
I’m not going dark, the way Renée Walker did last night on “24,” but there may be a certain graying-out. Not to worry, though. Frank has the conn, and to judge by this morning’s post, we’re still flying straight.