I
t’s Friday. The Santa Monica Promenade is packed with people and I feel like P.T. Barnum trying to get them to check out the cell. Now I’m in traffic on the way back to the hotel and finally getting a chance to reflect on the day. I’m thinking about Adam’s struggle to drink water, the Chihuahua puppy (even though I’m not usually a fan of sub-beagle size dogs), and the two Navy recruiters in full dress uniform who told me that they and lots of other military people feel the same way we do. I even got to swim this morning. It was a good day.
ZJ
