I'd like to report that I'm having a good time, but I'm not. It's hot, humid, and boring here in Nebraska. Mom is gettin' old and has been through a lot of health problems. She prefers to keep the interior of the house at 80 degrees. If it weren't for her having a box fan, I'm sure I'd suffocate. My brother smokes like a train but at least he does it in his room. I get to sleep on the lumpy couch. Every year I come home I swear I'm gonna get a room at the motel across the street, only mom gets upset when I mention that. What's a dutiful son to do? (I'm just being grumpy right now.)