Tin Soldier On A Pale Horse

There is apparently a dude in North Jersey who looks just like me, guy by the name of Barry that the Piccatinny crowd knows. I'm constantly hearing "Wow you look so much like him it's uncanny," and in fact I was at a restaurant once in Newton, and as we left, someone knocked on the restaurant window and chased us outside to say hello, thinking I was Barry...

I never met the guy, and everyone involved seems to get a kick out of the fact that we've never been seen together, like Superman and Clark Kent or something. Well I didn't meet him last night either, but I got to the dinner late, and Barry had been there, early, and left only moments before -- I ended up in his seat. The party was upstairs at the Long Valley Pub, where there are two staircases, and apparently he went down one as I was coming up the other. Much chuckling as we figured that out. (If that was a movie, they'd cut that scene as being just too implausible.) Pretty good party overall, too, nice people. Crazy-fun drive there too, Rt 57 then over Schooley's Mountain, via roads that seemed just one step up from dirt.

Which Horseman? Meanwhile, back at the stealth apocalypse... no, the other one.

Anyway, going to deal with the car now (the old one), I pretty much have it towed and sold, just have to go make the final handshake. After that I may go for a walk or a ride, depending on what I find on the ground outside. I might be going to a wake this afternoon: a woman I used to work with (she retired several years ago) passed away Thursday. The viewing is in Rockaway though, and I don't know what road conditions I'm willing to deal with. We'll see.