Shucking and Jiving

The cost of keeping an apartment in New Bedford now far outweighs the benefits, which are significantly diminished since leaving my job at SouthCoastToday.com.

Friday was my last day, and I didn't plan to be as sad as I was. I'm hoping some folks come out for drinks Wednesday night. I want to say goodbye away from the cubicle gray. And I want to bombard their faces with karaoke insanity.

So I've moved to Swansea with Dad, a situation that has worked well so far. We're both pretty busy, so there's plenty of house to go around. I'm trying to organize a six-room apartment's worth of junk into one bedroom, which is going fairly slowly.

I'm getting rid of a lot of stuff, but there's a lot more I could probably do without. Trappings!

I hit Roy's for the first time this season with Alyssa. The place has certainly changed. Even empty, the security booth at the entrance is imposing. The 24 rules in the newly printed handbook seem so strange considering the unruly existence I enjoyed as a kid. We're wondering how we can pull of our annual clambake without the aid of a fire, now prohibited.

It's been a long time since I went to the beach on a weekday, and It was odd to see the place so quiet.

I'm helping out with puppet workshops in Jamestown for the next three mornings. I'm not sure what to expect, but it will be good training for some other camps Nazo has coming up. Friday we'll be at the fireworks in Attleboro, apparently in case some kids aren't scared enough by the explosions, a few trolls will be roaming around.