As I write I am seated at a rather "spartan" desk in a very "spartan" dorm room on the campus of the Concordia Theological Seminary in beautiful Fort Wayne, IN. I am not complaining mind you...I am very happy to be here. You might even say that I am happier than I even thought I would be to be here. I just got a call from my bride Kay, who remained in Chicago with her sister Ann. Just after I hit the road for Indiana this afternoon, and when Kay and Ann returned from walking Ann's dog, her kitchen sink had backed up with all sorts of unknown sewage, and for the past 6 hours the stench has been prevalent in the air. The plumber has been there for the past 4 hours, and the dilemma seems to be far from over. My last 6 hours have been far less eventful. Traffic coming out of Chicago wasn't too bad, but things did come to an all out stop in northwest Indiana as what was reported to be a grinding wreck on the Indiana Tollway put a halt to all eastbound momentum, and so there I sat for quite some time. I ended up turning around and heading back in the opposite direction to take advantage of the last exit that I had passed in order to take an alternate route. After that things went smoothly, arriving here just after dark, which for those of you out there in the Pacific Time Zone was sometime last Saturday afternoon.
As I had anticipated, the weather here is a whole lot chillier than in Spokane. Saturday's official high in the Lilac City was 79 degrees, and today it was a little cooler at 74. In Chicago over the weekend it was windy (maybe that's why its called the Windy City...ya think???) and temperatures barely reached 60. All week long the weather back home is looking warm and sunny, highs will be near 80, while here it is going to be chilly for another day, and then start to warm up.
Tomorrow morning I am going to miss the opportunity to teach my tennis posse another lesson. On Friday they were sceptical of my research methodology that determined that black Nike ankle socks are detrimental to one performance on the tennis court. To show there unbelief the posse decided to show up adorned in black footwear...at least in the form of socks. What resulted was predictable, as I rose to the occasion, clad in my white Adidas stockings, and administered a thorough drubbing. There was another valuable lesson learned though, in that John didn't actually wear black socks, but rather navy blue. It turns out that navy blue socks are even more detrimental to one's tennis prowess than black!