Gladly my cross I'd bear.

Hmmm. I thought it was "Gladly, the cross-eyed bear."

Along these lines, I have a friend who is an avid ice hockey fan. For you non-North Americans, ice hockey is a supposed sport that is really an excuse for grown men 9and women) to go out on skates and beat the living hell out of one another. Cf. "rugby".

Anyway, Art entered my name and my son's name into a drawing for a father-son dinner with Patrick Roy, the Avalanche goal-keeper. I was hoping to win, because the dinner would truly be a meeting of the Father, the Son, and the Goalie Host.



TEd