Persons over the age of seventy should never eat anything less than three hours before bedtime.
Ice cream, 9:00 PM. I knew there would be trouble. I did it anyway.
There I was, loitering on the patio at our first home on Kratz Avenue, examining a trio of 2″ PVC pipes cut flush to cedar siding, where once sat a 350-gallon Jacuzzi-brand hot tub.
“What happened?” I wondered. “Did someone find out it came from a vice-squad-raided massage parlor?”
True story. We ran household bleach through it for two days. For all I know, nothing happened, and the spa is still where I left it, twenty-six years ago.
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