A Bog of Cold Gravy

originally posted: 01/16/02

Brought to you by — you guessed it — my literary hero James Lileks (www.lileks.com) in a recent Bleat. Describing a particularly notorious Metro traffic snarl (for you locals, that's the eastbound intersection of Crosstown 62 with I-35W), he wrote: "Every day this single lane moves at the speed of Pavarotti wading through a bog of cold gravy."

Yep, that about describes it! I know he's right, too, because three weekdays out of five, I'm one of the boggers.

And I have to admit I'm having a gravy brain morning today, too. (Tomorrow's band name: Gravy Brain!) I was glad to donate blood yesterday and felt fine all day. However, I was pretty tired by the time bedtime rolled around last night, and I slept in late enough this morning to preclude my usual exercise endeavors. So I'm off to a slow start, but thanks to Earl Grey tea, the velocity should improve any moment now.