Bball shoes

Bball shoes
Originally uploaded by thegreatplotnik.

Plot and Duck are hopping on the Twentieth Century Extremely Limited today to head down to Stiletto City. The walk to Bart to Oakland Coliseum to the Bart Shuttle to the Southwest counter should take a little more than an hour. The flight, including a Two Course Bag Lunch (both of them peanuts), takes another hour. The taxi from Shburbank Airport fifteen minutes more. Hugs at Mom's house, another ten.

The concept, originally, had been for Plotnik and The Great PD to play basketball tonight, but that plan was scratched by Big Reese and his Get Plotnik Rib Attack. Plot can report, however, that today, for the first day since his two big spills last week, he is finally feeling like his old self. Headaches, gone. Ribaches, not gone, but becoming more manageable. Scabs, healed. Knee, still funky, but not James Brown funky, Borat funky.

Now, Plot knows perfectly well that if he packs his basketball shoes, he will attempt to play ball tonight, pain or no pain, and the pain will come from Mummy Plotnik and The Great Ducknik screaming in both ears at the same time; moreover, if he should play, AND get hurt again: let's just say the potential for sympathy is minimal, as in No Chance, Mr. Big Shot, You are On Your Own.

Also, it still really hurts to cough or sneeze.

So the shoes are still in the closet. So far.