Normally, I’d spend the first week of September stuck to the air chair, being the daddy-o of the raddi-o, ruling the pool, reaching the beaches and shaking the lakes with racks and stacks of the best in wax, spinning the platters that matter.
Instead, I’m on vacation with strict orders from the Beloved Mrs. Toppy to completely unplug.
So far, I’m failing a lot less miserably than most vacations, but that works out for you: I will manage to get an extra Toppy update in this week. Tonight, an early February visit to Memphis by Frank Williams netted us some fun IDs. Dig on them, and I’ll try to come up with something for Friday. Unless I really unplug, in which case I’m probably dead.