Awake early to watch qualifying for the British Grand Prix. This year, of course, the political juggling as the series threatens to split in two (so some sportscasters put it, though the reality is more like a hijacking than a split, as the majority of teams are threatening to leave, with some justification).
Stop in town at the drugstore to pick up some tinned salmon, on sale in this week's flyers. No, none left. And the sale was last week. I protest that I'm certain I saw them earlier this week. But it turns out that the fiscal cum flyer week begins on Saturday. So it's now next week. J is waiting outside in the car, chatting with friends. A young man joins the group and admires our car. The car, though, is only an excuse to begin conversation. What he really wants to tell us, his speech a little slurred, is that he has been learning the art of sell-leb-acy. Accent on the second syllable. Tough going, it seems, as he adds "but I still want a woman."
JAWORSKI TRAVELS