By 
This is a response to Marc’s post, Virginia is for lovers…of lameness. You can read it iif you’d like to, but I wouldn’t want you to get too depressed over how lousy a time Marc is having in Canada.
What was that, Marc? Could you please speak up a little louder for me? It’s not that I can’t hear your Canadadian complaints because it’s so far away (though the flocks of millions upon millions of boring geese do dampen the sound a bit.) I think I heard you say something about a meat lover’s scramble (can’t I order that at the Denny’s in Schaumburg?), but it all got drowned out. Literally. Next time you might want to enunciate your Great Northern Grievences a bit more, because I’ve had the misfortune of being holed up in a beach house fifty feet from the Atlantic Ocean.
The gentle pulse of the waves must have been what kept me from your stories of fishless lakes and shattered dreams. I apologize.
See that blip, off in the distance? Yep. It's Europe.
I know that you also tried to put all of your thoughts down in words, but I must have been distracted by the fiddler crabs, sandpipers, and the flock of several dozen enormous seabirds that flew directly overhead just an hour ago.
If life were Pokemon Snap, Professor Oak would give me extra points for a) catching several of them in a group, and b) getting them while they were posing.
Tonight I’m going to go out to the beach and look for more crabs, so if you really want to get my attention, blow into one of those hollowed out moose antlers you all use for horns.
Oh, and Brian? That book you were holding was poisoned.
