June 13, 2010
We were on our way to the airport for our vacation to Minnesota, just five minutes out of the driveway, when my wife cheerfully reminded me that once again I had left my sunglasses perched above the visor of her truck. I heard much the same thing as we left for San Diego a few weeks ago. Don’t ask me why I always forget things. And don’t ask my wife either, as she’ll be sure to tell you it’s the beer, which I firmly deny. But I told her not to worry, and I was right. I grew up in Minnesota; sunglasses here are about as necessary as winter survival gear in Arizona. We’re three days into it, and the only way I can find the sun is via Google Sky Map.