I notice I’m writing more non-sports stuff than usual, although I often write non-sports stuff on this blog. It’s just that I go on vacation in two and a half weeks and it’s been a very long year and a long time since I’ve been off for an extended period. So I’m thinking about tv series and plays and movies, and I’m thinking about drinking light reds and crisp whites at night and sleeping in in the morning and taking drives and having adventures, to the extent I ever have them anymore. I’m eager to see Woody Allen’s new film. I was in a reading slump, not sure why, but I just read Christopher Buckley’s memoir about his mom and dad, WFB — Losing Mum and Pup — and it was lovely. Now I’m reading Everybody was so Young by Amanda Vaill about the so-called Lost Generation in Paris in the 1920s. Also a lovely book. F Scott Fitzgerald and Hemingway sure could be nasty when they wanted to be. They also could write, although to my taste Hemingway never wrote anything that could touch Gatsby.