Cutting out pink paper hearts to lay around his feet.
Getting one non-blurry shot.
Cooking Avrom Farm bacon for Casey and me.
The sound of feet on the dance floor heard from the bar’s basement.
A video of the 1962 Grand Prix (via Justin Ouellette).
Afterward, watching highlights of the 2018 Grand Prix, and feeling surprised by the collaborative spirit of it. When one driver bumped another off the track (and made him flip a dozen times), the bumper radioed in to make sure the bumpee was okay. It seemed less like a competition and more like an experiment: what will these machines do?
Since the sport is so dangerous, they can’t afford to be hotheads. When their coaches (?) tell them to brake and exit immediately, they do.