Reflective: Two years ago today I went for a morning jog knowing two things: "a small plane had crashed...." and I had one whopper of a hangover. Despite how bad I felt, I ran what seemed like an awful long way, probably a couple miles further than my normal route. It was a spectacularly beautiful morning, one of those days that you only get as summer ebbs and autumn starts to show its face. That's one of the things I'll always remember, how nice a day it was, perfect for shaking the fog of too much booze the night before while watching football.

I just returned from a similar run through the same neighborhood (I've moved to an adjacent neighborhood, but I purposely detoured to cover some of the same ground as I did then, and again last year). There weren't as many flags outside the houses, though I guess that's not a surprise. Not everyone can keep up the patriotic fervor that day isnpired for the first year or so. One guy on a Harley pulled up next to me as I waited for a light to change and gave me a look that said something, I don't know what. Maybe, "Hey, I remember. Do you?" Maybe not.

Something was going on in the park this morning, a memorial of some kind perhaps. Anyway, there were more stragglers hanging out than on a normal day. A homeless guy was handing out (selling, I guess) American flags. I think I bought one from him or his twin two years ago. I guess business hasn't been as good for him lately.

It's another amazing day, about 80 degrees and blue skies, just like it was that day. Again, I ran much further than normal despite once again waking with a ringing head. Probably will again next year, too.