Wednesday, October 19, 2016

R.A.W. Wednesday

Having never resided in South Boston for even one day in the first half-century of my life, Wednesday has never been Prince Spaghetti Day for me.  This week, however, Wednesday is something immeasurably better than little Anthony's favorite day of the week. 

This morning, serving as further irrefutable proof of the absence of God in 21st Century America, I have to travel to one of my least favorite places, Atlantic City.  While the adversary with whom I shall spend some time this morning is both a skilled advocate and a very nice human being, I loathe Atlantic City.  Simply loathe it. 

Atlantic City, New Jersey's Cesspool by the Sea.  If the Chicken Man was alive to see the condition of Atlantic City here in late October, 2016, he would go back and kiss Springsteen on the mouth for blowing him up in Philly thirty-five years ago.  

Yet, today is still a terrific day - road trip through the Gates of Hell notwithstanding.  Why?  It is R.A.W. Wednesday.  Atlantic City is simply an onerous drive from either my regular home base 'Neath the Snow Globe or from my office in Parsippany.  So, last night I packed a bag and drove south to my little Paradise by the Sea.  This morning, before the sun ascends, I will be on the boardwalk, enjoying an otherwise impossible to pull off in the middle of the week Run Along the Water.  It shall bookend nicely with the one to which I treated myself last night after I got down here. 

There is a cliche about even if one applies lipstick to a pig, the wearer of the lipstick is still a pig.  But when a bit of lipstick for the soul is applied to a day that involves a round-trip to Atlantic City, Atlantic City - for that day anyway - ceases to be the boil on New Jersey's ass and dissolves into something significantly less obnoxious.  

Such is the power of R.A.W. Wednesday.   Anthony, the kitchen is open and you, you little short-pants-wearing spaghetti monster, have been served...

...Buon appetito! 


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