Fine, I don't quit. I did say it was a fabled moment of clarity.
Gentle readers, you are too clever to fall for my April Fools ruse. That, or my utter lack of respect for your powers of observation bit me in the ass when I used the "bald face lies" tag.
Ohionative must be a real Ohio native. Akron, Ohio, has the sort of dreary disposition that demands you seek salvation at the bottom of a bottle. There's no way I'm staying dry here.
Just take a look at Akron's cultural contributions over past few decades. Chrissie Hynde still loves to whine about the city she abandoned being gone. Devo's apocalyptic vision of society was honed here. Everybody's favorite fuzz blues band, the Black Keys, got bummed out here. If you want to get down, we know how to get down.
Alcoholics Anonymous was established here with good reason. Akron is a mecca for drunks and former drunks alike. Every June a throng of motorcycled teetotalers speed down my street on their way to see Dr. Bob's house during a three-day celebration they call Founder's Day.
The fact that Akron is home to the Goodyear blimp seems like some sort of sick joke.
No, I will not be corking the bottle. And therefore I also won't be changing a darned thing about this blog or bore you with my banjo practice sessions (one hour yesterday evening before ... wait for it ... going to the bar for a nightcap).
Signed and Driven
I actually had news to report yesterday, but instead I wanted to waste your time. So here it is: I signed up for my next race. I'll be running the Cleveland (half) Marathon again on May 18. I'm already a little behind on my training. Awesome.
You're a Wuss and Here's Why
This guy is making you look bad and he can't even see that slack-jawed look on your face as you watch him run seven marathons in seven days. However, I'm right on top of this hard-ass. I ran three miles in the last three days.