Never been accused of any of that before, Sal. Probably getting better at disguising my ignorance as olfart wisdom? My wife knows I wilt under pressure and just gives me heck.
Insomia has reminded me (we are somewhat west of the islands and Mr. Sun hasn't arrived yet)of a story that Douglas Adams, creator of the Hitchhiker's Guide, told in the posthumous Salmon of Doubt. Seems he was in a train station in York with time to kill so he buys a cuppa, a newspaper, and a packet of cookies. He's got his nose in the paper when another gent sits down but he notices peripherally when this one opens the packet of cookies and eats one. At a loss what to do now, he also reaches for one. The opp number takes another, Adams takes another. There are only eight cookies but the time it takes to eat them is excruciating. The other gent then rises; Adams and he exchange a look of mutual excoriation. With the embarassing cadger gone, Adams discovers his packet of cookies under the newspaper. He thinks that somewhere in England is a man with exactly the same story as his but without the punchline.
jack
addendum later that same day: Is that "coaching" as in coach+6, Dalmation and Bouvier, footman and horn? Know it can't be softball.
