With fear and loathing, am off today to the little town of Putney Vermont where a passell of crazy people are going to have a series of boat races. In the rain. And cold. With wind. Good for me. I was going to blow it off and a rowing pal said to me, sensoriously, "Well, that’s not exactly defaulting to Yes, is it?" What a pain! And this morning Harry, who is here in the Berkshires for the weekend, said more of less the same thing, the swine. So off I go. And, who knows, I may return. In which case, I’ll let you know just how dumb and scary it was.