It all began innocuously enough on a hot summer day. I found myself a tad parched after a nice, long hike up the Lenawee Trail, so I stopped in the Dillon Dam Brewery for numerous recuperative beverages.
From the sidelines, I can see where some folks might have considered it a somewhat unusual (if not blatantly tasteless) spontaneous-combustion-type en masse subject for discourse among a wide-ranging demographic amalgam of patrons.
A few months back, I told you, in a Smoke Signals titled, “Hot Air,” about the two times I found myself, through no fault of my own (understatement), up in the wild blue yonder in a hot-air balloon. I might have even casually mentioned something about how BOTH OF THOSE BALLOONS CRASHED!!!
If you are inclined to recreationally eyeball road atlases as much as I am, you have probably graduated to the point where you see more than states and provinces, more than roads and streets, more than cities and towns. In other words: more than the obvious information one needs to travel more-or-less accurately from one’s [...]
