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Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

What with all the disruption, Ol’ Robbo’s car tags and inspection sticker are now three – by which I mean six – months overdue. I only ever really drive La Wrangler to Mass these days,*** but it occurs to me that if I get pulled over I probably won’t get away with just a warning anymore, even if I am wearing a coat and tie.

Prolly wouldn’t do to try and evoke St. Christopher’s aid in this matter, either, as I already know he’d tell me just to get off my duff and get my renewals done, and that if I do get popped, it’s my own silly fault.

*** Ol’ Robbo was reflecting this morning on how fortunate he is that he even can. I know many diocese – including DeeCee and the nearby Murrland burbs – are still shut down. (We get a number of their refugees.) Robbo’s Former Episcopal Church also remains closed, and Mrs. R is getting mighty browned off just watching videos. Father suggested this morning that some additional relaxation of what he delicately referred to as Kommissar Northam’s “entanglements” could be coming down the pike soon, so maybe Mrs. R will finally get some relief.

UPDATE: Mrs. R informs me that there is, in fact, some species of outdoor service available at RFEC, but that she has no interest in it. “Well, you’re always welcome to come along with me,” I said. It got the crickets I anticipated, but who knows when it might click some day.

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