Dog wake up is especially cute this am – his cold nose on my nose.

I nearly went East last night, the temptation was strong. But alas my exhaustion and lack of funds allowed me to deny the impulse of what we once called, “the long haul”. As in, “Are you out for the long haul?” or “Tonight I am out for the long haul!” Any normal night out can suddenly and unexpectedly transition into a long haul night. In the ville the long haul involved not just many bars, it often involved every bar, which was I think fourteen (if you count days Inn, Ailerons, and whatever the place is that used to be Helig Meyer- oh and the bowling alley of course) give or take a few. Long hauls are rarely planned, unless the presence of a visiting dignitary prompts one by request, they often come in response to a vague feeling of boredom or malaise at the first bar of the evening. You think to yourself, “I’m not enjoying this at the level I would like to be. We need to ratchet this up and get a little bent.

In the ville a long haul often begins at the roadhouse The Blue Moon for beer pool. Next in succession is Too Talls – with their two drinks for two dollars special an order of H’s chilly cheese chips and then Ryan’s for a buck and a quarter personal pitcher. T.P.’s office involves more pool and a pitcher of Killian’s Red or the pink drink with the beer float – what are those called? – basically a pink long island with a float of natural light. Then Woody’s or Dukum or both followed by The flaming O (The Flamingo) which is now called The Hot Spot, Bogies for a long island (Which was owned by Blue Grass Star Rhonda Vincent’s husband, but is now closed) and The Corner Pub (briefly The Blue Parrot) if Chad is working – if not, then The Golden Spike and the bar finale Toons for dancing – and then the after bars followed by food at one of the all night dives. All this motion tends to accrue revelers at each installment (or at least provide replacements for those who fall off the pub crawl). I met several of my ex-girlfriends on nights like these as you tend to be your most gregarious self. I may be getting too old for the long haul – a function of a former self.

The phone is ringing, it’s nine am, must be work. Hang on. It’s Mary, she wants to know if I want to go to estate and yard sales this am. I want nothing more. Twenty Minutes to shower and we’ll be in the land of kitsch.