Ken, Just made me think of the last ride with my grandfather; I was dragging him around "Amish" territory in SE PA in my MGTD (3 clicks up from a powered Conestoga wagon), the top was down and he had an old Phillies cap on that kept blowing off his head. We tooled around the back roads, with the great smells of haying time. At one point he shouted over to me, "Mike, you drive this hotel like I'm a son-of-a-bitch!" -- To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the uncoffee-ed, or to change your settings, go to: <http://listserv.icors.org/archives/bullamanka-pinheads.html>