Sun, at last. Left the hotel dressed in one less layer, plus lipstick and boots. Somehow it meant driving would be swifter, easy to access while sitting in a sun-drenched car. The kids at the rink drank a pot of gatorade and talked in happy tones about Rampage and Colorado before the conversation shifted to Malcolm and the theoretical liking of the middle. It reminded of the Flying Penguin days. Without the big van or matching shirts. M, G + B. Gladwell's Outlier's and the possibilities of opportunity happening.
