When I was packing clothes and tools and nutritional blobs, I almost left without a book. The family wasn’t going to be joining me, and I rarely see a movie these days that doesn’t star Julie Andrews or come from Pixar, so I was looking forward to settling in at the hotel and consuming something with guns and swearing and car chases and whoopie-makin’. Unfortunately, I arrived at my hotel Saturday night to find that my room’s television was malfunctioning. If I hadn’t brought the book, Id’ve been stuck with War of the Worlds (the Tom Cruise version) on network television, with
I was up at 4:28 a.m. on Sunday, two minutes ahead of my alarm clock. I got dressed, slammed some juice, joyfully spalmed up , washed my hands, and headed to the Doubletree to meet the morning rollout squad. Thirty of forty of us were assembled out front, including one intrepid rider on an Xtracycle, much to my delight.
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