As the narrative has stalled for the day, I thought this might be a good time to report on my vacation. In photos. Because, let's face it, you don't want to read about my vacation.
|We drove this 1997 Subaru Impreza from New Jersey to Utah to pass it down to our son in college.|
|The handoff was successful at BYU.|
|At the top of Sundance Resort, my brother Duane threw me to my death singing, "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother." I waved at Robert Redford on the way down.|
|We took Greyhound to Las Vegas, where Mrs. Wanders went for a ride on her dad's Harley.|
|Then we took another Greyhound to Disneyland where I was more gleeful than anyone else as these photos will attest.|
|My feelings were decidedly mixed about the new Star Wars land, Galaxy's Edge.|
|We flew to Sacramento, where we went for a 40-mile ride in my Dad's 1932 Dodge.|
|We visited the gas station museum in Woodland, California.|
|Outside the gas station musesum.|
So that was my vacation. Now, what was Estelle saying?