I got back to New York late last night from my family reunion in Smalltown, U.S.A., fell into bed, and arose first thing this morning with what appears to be a summer cold. Great. I’m writing for The Wall Street Journal this morning and the Washington Post tomorrow, after which I head for Massachusetts and Washington, D.C., to see a couple of plays, so a summer cold is just what I need at this juncture, don’t you think?
Anyway, I may post a bit later today or some time tomorrow if my head clears, but don’t be surprised if I opt for elective mutism instead. In any case, I’ll be back for real on Sunday, and you’ll hear from me then, assuming this cold, if it is a cold, doesn’t prove fatal. (Hey, it could happen!)
See you sometime.
UPDATE: The cold’s winning. So far, I’ve written two paragraphs of my Journal piece. All I seem to be able to do is read proofs and blow my nose. Would anyone care to bring me some chicken soup? Or perhaps a nice mug of cyanide?