Gentle Readers,
As you may know, TWC is marginally insane, so when the guys at the tennis-court house down the hill set up Megadeth's old sound system (bought on Ebay) and fired it up, TWC had a slight increase in blood pressure. And, of course, the fargin' speakers are facing my way instead of pointing at Shelley's house. When the rap hip-hop crap (you can't spell crap without rap) started rattling the windows (from a quarter mile away) I figured the smart thing was to get out of Dodge. A small price to pay to avoid the Green Monster.
Turns out that I'm one of those old fashioned guys who figures that your right to make a bunch of got dam noise ends at your property line. That doesn't play well in modern America and who was it that said you can't run away from your problems?
A nice steak, a little wine, and nothing the kids like better than the pool and Jacuzzi at some hotel in the desert anyway. Make sure the wine's in a plastic cup.
As Ever,
TWC