Proving that I still have a pulse, I would like to wish you all a belated Happy Easter. It’s belated because our weekend was so overbooked with religious, familial, and social obligations that it felt more like some sort of bizarre endurance test than a holiday, which is not to say that we didn’t enjoy the activities themselves. My wife, as usual, bore the brunt, heroically baking six cheesecakes amid all the chaos for a fund-raising church bake sale…right before which our oven died and had to be replaced about a week ago.
I would also like to draw your attention to yesterday’s Marvel University, and even had you already done so, you might want to take another look, now that my missing final paragraph has been restored. If it were just another regular weekly post to which I had contributed, I wouldn’t bother, but this is an honest-to-Stan essay by yours truly, somewhat similar to the “Snapshots” I have done in the past, but even more anecdotal and subjective. In fact, I had planned to run it here, yet the forever-young Professor Pete (aka Paste-Pot) got so boyishly excited when I told him about it that I couldn’t deprive him of the pleasure of posting it, especially when I knew he’d throw in some snazzy visuals, including one of my very favorite covers EVER.
Meanwhile, Madame BOF and I celebrate our wedding anniversary tomorrow, and we’ll be marking the occasion with a nice, quiet dinner at one of our favorite places, Bangkok Restaurant, the first Thai eatery in Connecticut. It’s been 24 years since we were married, 31 this past Valentine’s Day since our first date, and 33 since we became friends in our high-school choir, headed by the future founder of the prestigious Connecticut Master Chorale (of which Movie Knight Musketeer Chris Blake is a proud member). Believe me, we’re just getting warmed up.
Bradley in…love.
Aaww! Cheers.
Thanks, hombre.
In my defense re: the missing paragraph. It’s the strangest thing because it’s never happened to me before. In fact
No harm done, my friend. In fact, I thought the post read fine without it, although it did end a little abruptly.
Bradley, you old softie….
Well, they don’t call me Maudlin Man for nothing.