What's your perfect weekend?
A terrible thing to ask you on a Monday, but here we are.
Friends, I had a very good weekend.
It’s not often that the stars align quite as well as they did, but I got nearly everything I could ask for out of a weekend these past three days. I’m completely exhausted, sunburnt, a little sore and behind on everything, but like… in a good way.
As a result, I don’t have the piece I originally intended to write for you today.
So, as I’ve done a few times recently, I’d love to turn the microphone to you.
I want to know:
What’s your idea of a perfect weekend?
Of course, I mean this generally within reason.
My actual perfect weekend would be the Cleveland Guardians winning the World Series the same weekend that I win the Powerball, do an tour of Spain’s Michelin-three-starred restaurants and see all of my enemies smote, but that’s not realistic.
(I think the Guardians still need to add an outfield bat or two first.)
No, I’m talking about the kind of weekend that can plausibly happen once or twice a year, the kind of weekend where everything just sort of …