The branch of my bank that I like best is closing. Luckily, I'm moving, so I'll use another branch now. But this one had been really convienient, almost walking distance. Anyway, in order to close the branch, the bank had to petition the Massachusetts State Commissioner of Banks. Imagine if every business had to ask a commissioner before it could move (this above and beyond the standard building permit begging and bribing that has to take place). If you can't imagine it, vote for Democrats; they'll offer a demonstration program, likely concerning the health care industry.
I realized today, following a slow, elderly couple (driving a Florida-plated land yacht with the bug screen on the front grille), that I will drive that way when I'm old. Why? Because I'm a careful driver. This is not to say that I'm a slow driver. I've seen the north side of one and four bits, and I know how to overtake a knucklehead to the inside on a curving on-ramp like it's the Abbey turn at Silverstone.* But I know how I drive when I smoke marijuana. It's just like the old people.
Oh, I almost forgot: Ursus americanus has returned to my backyard. Last year it was a mother and cub. This year the cub looks pretty big, though still not fully grown. Mom's nowhere to be found so far.
*Note: Originally wrote "Silberstone." Yeah, that famous Jewish race track in England. Like I said, basket case.