Jeff, all of the sprawling Champaign-Urbana Metroplex is concerned about you. Just like they were a few (dozen?) years ago, when you lived there.

Then, as if treating my dear 71-year-old mother to a spicy barbecued breakfast -- with a lemon shakeup, no less -- weren't a sign of love, she tried to pull a fast one on me. Li'l Porgy's is where she tried to make a break for it. She probably would have been resigned to the prospect of riding the final 2,000 miles or so were it not for Major Nix.

It was the T-shirt that gave her hope. Major Nix -- that's his Christian name -- wore a shirt that advertised "Safe Rides" and she was all over him like a duck on a June bug. All he wanted to do was get his BBQ and split. So hahahahahahaha -- she had to strap back in the car.

To be continued on Sept. 10...

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