Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Being fit. Physically. Later, I’ll do the Sudoku. That’s for the mental health. Right now, though, I’m keeping it tight.”

Good for you

“Most of the guys my age are like a car crash had sex with a train wreck. Not, uh, the Bobber.”

Don’t call yourself that.

“Sea air’s nice, too. Sinuses are already thanking me.”

Sure. I thought you quite jogging a while ago.

“Just on non-beaches. Bad for the knees. And the shoulder.”

I don’t think jogging on concrete is bad for your shoulder.

“I can make just about anything bad for my shoulder. You know, if I get bored enough.”

True.

“I think I’m turning around.”

Okay.

 


“Most folks don’t know that cutting the sleeves off your tee-shirt gives you an extra gear.”

I didn’t know that.

“Oh, yeah. It’s like painting a racing stripe on your car.”

Oh.

You’re just gonna run away?

“I’m having fun.”

Good for you, but you do see the rocks in front of you, right?

“I don’t have my glasses. There’s a big blue thing with a brown-and-green thing under that.”

YOU’RE GONNA RUN INTO THE ROCKS, BOBBY!

“I don’t think I am.”

BOBBY RUNNING INTO ROCKS NOISE

…

Bobby?

…

Bobby!?

“Could, uh, you fetch a member of my family and/or Matt Busch, please?’

Right away.

“And my Copenhagen. I’d like a dip while I wait for the ambulance.”

Sure.