On Friday I said to hell with it, canceled a few meetings, and took the kids to breakfast at the Bluebird Cafe over on the West Side. Great joint. French toast and omelettes. Then we went for a walk along Quality Hill, where I showed them the antebellum mansions, told them the early stories of Wild Bill, and the later stories of the Pendergasts, with their saloon in the West Bottoms. After that down to the rivers to climb our favorite railroad bridge. We’ve always liked the view from up top.

Finally at 11:00 I decided it was time to work again, rushed through three meetings, a stack of correspondence, a couple of invoices, then split for the day at 4:00. Why? An old friend of mine, Tommy Geiger, wanted to go roller blading along the bike trails. So we put in 12 miles in 100-degree heat, and man it felt so much better than being in an air conditioned gallery.

I like work, but I like skipping out too. There are times when I’ve had enough of this damned frenetic American pace, which I feel compelled to keep up with, but with which I grow more fed up each year–and that of course is my own fault. Either way, one day I’ll skip out on it altogether.