We dropped by to see my grandfather in the city yesterday. My mom made him spaghetti. He’s still cool, he’s still got the game face. He encodes his words like I used to (We have a whole different language than the grownup’s). He’s hilarious at ninety-six. I hope he won’t forget how to make us laugh.

Afterwards I challenged my father to 8ball in front of my mom. We probably played almost ten games and I probably made about fifteen balls. I couldn’t even learn with that embarassment. I tried both cues.

FedEx Field tommorow with Scott. I want to see Randy Moss play.

I got in too late to work on the layout. Manana.