Damn the man!

Congress robbed me of my weekend, or at least the House-Senate conference that released the Energy Bill over the weekend did, because I had to read it. Plus negotiating another piece of nonsense (unsuccessfully, as has been the case lately) took a chunk out of the weekend. But we managed to get in two movie events. We let the girls watch “Spiderman” with us on Friday night. I had feared the whole thing would just be too violent for Bekah, but that wasn’t a problem. We were all bawling on the couch when Uncle Ben died, however (and since the movie came out until forever, every time I stand in front of the New York Public Library on the Fifth Avenue side, I think, “This is where Uncle Ben died”). Next morning the girls were up bright and early, inventing their own superheroes. Then on Saturday night, we went to this year’s Warren Miller movie, which is a huge event that psyches us up for skiing. Incredibly, it’s his 54th annual ski movie. It was great, as always, and hardly marred at all by the persistent swooping of at least two bats in the grand old Palace Theatre. Most people convinced themselves they were birds. I can delude myself, too, but only up to a point. Now I’m dying to hit the slopes. Or bike. Or do anything but lie around like the schlub I’ve been. Got in a run on Saturday, it was too cold and windy to bike. I was going to run this morning, but I woke up about two hours ago, overheated and fairly dehydrated, and never got back to sleep, and my body isn’t saying “run” right this minute. Excuses….