Providence 10-11

Sunday afternoon we hopped on the bus, Gus, and three and a half hours later BZ was waiting for us in the Explorer. Yankee Stadium looked beautiful as the Megabus left the Bronx -- with luck the Yanks will end up just where irony says they should -- second fiddle to Detroit.

Last night in Providence there was a Marching Band Festival which rolled down Wickenden Avenue and ended up underneath a freeway bridge. A guy in one of the bands kept yelling "Take it to the bridge!...I mean, the actual bridge."

Apparently, there is a tradition of large headed monsters in Rhode Island.

There were some really good bands. All they needed was a few hundred kids from New Orleans to teach everybody how to strut properly. Really, there is no sound in the world like brass and bass drums.

It's nice to be here and in service. Yestterday, The Great BZWZ chose a paint color and Ducknik got the paint and painted her bedroom today. Plottie, meanwhile, is cooking up a storm. Today's asado de bodas mole goes with yesterday's green curry and tomorrow's Pesto Genovese, which he'll make from the basil in BZ's plot in the community garden. By the time he leaves here, Dad wants Daughter to have a freezer full of Pop food.

Has it crossed his mind that this is exactly what his grandmother always used to do and everyone made fun of? Yes. At least Plottie doesn't bring the chicken on the plane.