People aware of my life as a news gypsy sometimes ask, “Don’t you miss New York—New Orleans—San Antonio—San Francisco—Portland—Washington, DC—Los Angeles—Cleveland—?†(Pick one). There are things I miss about each of them. But on a day like today, cycling mile after mile through the back country—the recent 106 degree heat a mere memory—I didn’t miss them at all.
Still, this evening in my chair with a book, a glass of something and the right piece of music, I may make an exception.