Surprise!

I almost didn't answer the phone.  It's the time of year when the politicos start sending out their robocalls and if the number doesn't show up on caller ID...well.  Besides, NASCAR was just getting ready to start, and a gal has her priorities.  I did pick up, however, and immediately fell into a state of confusion.  The man sounded so much like my brother-in-law Glenn and made the same sort of opening remark that Glenn would make that I made that assumption and responded accordingly.  The caller invited me out to lunch.  "Oh, I'd love to.  Are you camping at the 49er?"  "Nooo.  We're at home."  "Omigosh, are you coming all the way up here?"  "Nooo.  We're at home."  The light gradually dawned that I was not speaking to Glenn.  It was Larry, of the euphonious Larry and Sherry duo from Fiddletown.  We get together maybe once a year, and agreed to meet at The Pub.  It was a grand break in the day and we had a good laugh.  Larry had figured out that I had no idea to whom I was talking and had just played along.

I had put the race on DVR and ran it back when I got home, only to see Bowyer get caught in the Talladega "big one" just at the end.  Phooey.

All being said, it was a good day.