Long day

Got done at the lab around 9 pm, and offered Ad the Dutch boy a ride home since his bike tire was busted beyond repairability. Of course he directed me along the most circuitous route possible while including the worst of the Fenway Park postgame traffic. (Note to self: next time just ask for the address and make your own way there. Bike riders don't know which way cars have to go.)

We were having a beer out on his 3rd floor balcony when some rustling sounds emerged from a tree next to the roof next door. It was a half dozen raccoons. He went in to tell his South American roommates, so they came out and were sufficiently impressed with the North American critters. I told them what I knew about them, which wasn't a hell of alot. Mainly the ones I had seen in South Florida, including the fat-ass ones who waddled menacingly toward my open Jeep on Key Biscayne that time and the 50 or 60 of them that gather daily at the entrance to a park on Fort Lauderdale Beach after the sun sets. When they went back inside I told Ad my Dad's story about hunting them to sell the meat around Savannah in the early 40's. The story about the one that wasn't like the others. :P