Going to the Well

Some days I’m lucky enough to sit back at the end of the day and think, “that went well” and really mean it.  Yesterday definitely qualifies for that distinction.  A slow day at work distinguished additionally as the First Friday of the Week and therefore required celebration.  My excellent boss had a better week than usual with the politicos but still required some routine decompression that can only be provided by adult beverages at Brew City.

The Selfie We Sent to The Ops Manager
The Accompanying Message said - This Picture is Missing a Large Italian

The added bonus was scheduled attendance of my son who was spending the night with us since the MEF was marking 100 days to the wedding with a California sojourn with her equally excellent parents.  My boss and I decided to join the selfie parade in a failed effort to cajole/shame the operations manager into attending.  The bar tender had our drinks waiting before we even arrived at the table where my son soon joined us for yet another selfie aimed at my wife.

My Son and I - Sent to My Wife

She responded with a photo of Buddy working on his tan.  Buddy was apparently upset I was delaying the arrival of his favorite human.  We rectified that situation and my son thought Buddy had put on weight since he wasn’t around to be chased.  Buddy obliged with a subsequent hot pursuit that had the pictures bouncing on the walls.

Her Response - A Lonely Buddy

Friday’s required attendance at Zorba’s was boosted by drawing the fetching waitress.  She was on top of her game again, having abandoned the pink hair experiment.  My son was exposed to full maternal attention which was a lot of fun to watch (and not just because I was spared spousal attention).  The required giant pizza fell victim to our predations but my wife’s denial of Ronnie benefits was still in effect.  My son’s not crazy about ice cream (how the hell did that happen!) so I’m going to need the MEF to overcome my wife’s reluctance to institute summer return trips to Ronnie’s from Zorba’s.

Son and Wife at Zorba's

We ended the night back on the couch watching the Red Sox.  My attention may have been comprised at times but my son’s loud exclamation at a Pedroia grand slam restored full capacity.  Time with wife and son with both a First Friday and Zorba’s topped off with a Sox win; it certainly went well.

I finished off Ready to Kill by Andrew Peterson featuring his hero Nathan McBride.  He’s not in the same league as Brad Thor or Vince Flynn but I’ve enjoyed each of his preceding novels which featured some relentless action.  This one was tough to hang with for the first half which moved at a snail’s pace.  I’m sure someone would be fascinated with an in-depth recounting of jungle patrol techniques.  I did it for so long, granted a few decades ago, but it still didn’t bring back a lot of fond memories.

The story has McBride returning to Nicaragua where he was horribly injured years ago to assist a local he trained as a Contra back in the 1980s.  The second half more than made up for the initial slow pace as McBride and his buddy Harv engage in an overnight duel with a deadly assassin.  The final battle inside a mine had me rushing through it.  He hasn’t reach Horvath level yet but I’ll definitely return to McBride.