While in Toledo, I decided to take my booty out for a jog before we spent another five hours in the car.  I strapped on my swift scoots, grabbed Rocco’s ball cap and bounded onto the sidewalk.

Here’s an uncommon economic indicator for you – loads of people doing yard work on a Tuesday morning.  It seemed like no one was off working.  I can’t even begin to count how many vacant store fronts we passed.  Every block had at least one bank-owned home for sale.  It seems the ripples of Detroit’s economic troubles have reached Toledo.

Anyway, as I cruised through the neighborhood, dodging Redwing garden ornaments I was surprised by how many Duke fans were in Toledo.  It seemed every other porch had a flag with the swooping gothic “D” that I’d seen so often back in North Carolina.

People sure weren’t as friendly as back in NC, though.  I took all the scowling and glowering to be the by-product of unhappy unemployed-ness.  I threw back an ear to ear grin at each person I passed.  As blocks went by, I started to notice the negativity was strongest from the men I passed.

Eventually I turned around and headed back to Todd and Meg’s place.  I ended up recovering some ground I’d already walked through that morning.  The house, and the truck in front of it, were covered with sporting paraphernalia.  As I neared the truck, I heard a screen door slam.

“Hey!” the owner called out, “Get off of my property!”

“Um, morning!” I sang in response.

“Morning my ass.  I SEE your HAT.”

I just assumed I was wearing my normal plain black ball cap with a little tiny Columbia Records logo on the back.  I certainly wasn’t aware of any cultures the little walking eye would offend.  I tripped a little from the brain exertion.  If I’d been trying to chew gum with all that multi-tasking, I surely would have nose planted into the angry man’s lawn.


Oh yeah.  I’m wearing Rocco’s hat.  The one with a big bright Yankees logo on the front.  Maybe, just maybe, that big ‘ol gothic “D” I kept seeing was for those Detroit Tigers he alluded so subtly to, eh?

Chemosabe strikes again.

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