1. Bruce, Scott, and I met for a late morning breakfast at Nosworthy Hall of Fame in Cd’A for breakfast. While we tried to outboast each other regarding our personal financial wealth and then outbrag each other regarding the easy street we anticipate in retirement, I ate enough food to last me until April: a yard of hash browns smothered with sausage gravy, a German sausage omelet the size of a Mini-Cooper, and the finest sheets of sourdough toast I’ve ever had.
2. So, Scott told me the Ground Round is on Govt. Way, across from the Fairgrounds. That sounded easy. I turned north off Appleway and headed toward the Fairgrounds, my eyes peeled for The Ground Round. I didn’t see it. I drove a ways past the Fairgrounds, turned around, and looked even harder on the west side of the road for The Ground Round. I went south to the Black Sheep, pulled off the road, and called Bruce and Scott.
“Where the hell is The Ground Round?” I asked Bruce.
He explained it to me.
“What’s near there? I’ve been by there twice. I didn’t see The Ground Round.”
Bruce replied: “I dunno. It’s across from some blue building at the Fairgrounds. It’s a stand alone business. “
He gave me the street address.
“Okay,” I said, “I should be there soon.”
“Oh.” Bruce said as I was about to hang up. “It’s not called The Ground Round anymore.”
“No, it’s, let’s see, Nosworthy Hall of Fame.”
“That’ll help. Later.”
3. Relaxing at Mom’s house: Law and Order. Law and Order. Law and Order. Cold Case. Law and Order. Law and Order. CSI: New York. Time for bed.