The Nanny State rolls on. And a Republican signed the bill.
I was exposed to my father’s cigarette smoke the whole time I lived in his house and rode in his car. It didn’t kill me, obviously, and I didn’t develop second-hand smoke-related health problems. I hate cigarette smoke, but I have neither the desire nor the inclination to tell people what to do in their own homes and cars.
Speaking of father, I’m visiting family down south, one of my favorite places on the planet. Music-filled weekend begins…now. You know what I found out? Lightning does strike twice in the same place. 
Rest easy, everybody.
Update (10/12): In a surreal moment last night, I was listening to my mother (a sort of physician’s assistant working for a group of surgeons and up to her elbows in blood all day) and Isaac Hanson discussing his recent surgery to remove a blood clot and the medication he’s taking. I bribed her into coming to the Charlotte show with me. I’ve attended two concerts for “The Walk Tour” so far (one was “work”), and I may leave it at that. I’m no groupie. Then again, it’s hard not to go when someone puts you on the guest list and you get to meet privately with the band. I don’t have the willpower to turn that down. 
But fun, I do have.
Later…I’ve got this strange urge to contact Lenny Kravitz’s publicist. I don’t know what that’s about. Some mid-life music review writing fixation thing, perhaps. Big fan of Lenny’s back in his married-to-Lisa-Bonet period. (I recommend listening to the track “It Ain’t Over Til It’s Over” if you like falsetto.)
Update II (10/15): Nephews at the fair.
