Mrs. Jones and I had friends over to the house last night for a VHS viewing party. Twenty years ago my friend K. and I showed up at the houses of college friends without warning, asked for a tour of their apartment or rental home, stole ice cream and frozen treats from their respective freezers, and let the video tape roll like there was no finite battery life. We called it the tour of homes. Someday I'll make the transfer to DVD. We also watched a tape of this year's NCAA basketball final, you know, with it being a KU crowd and all. There was a request to view my appearance on the millionaire show and after some false modesty and rubber arm twisting I popped that sucker in the machine. We also watched a tape called the egg olympics where a bunch of us bored college graduates and locals shot eggs in the air with a slingshot, then attempted to catch them in a frying pan when they dropped from the sky. Those who were still awake saw highlights of my 1988 spring break trip to Arkansas. That's right, Arkansas. We drove down from Kansas City to see the horses run in Hot Springs, then swung over to Graceland, with hilarious consequences. We didn't research our destinations and got there in time for the Monday no race day at Hot Springs and the Tuesday no Graceland day in the case of Graceland. We viewed several close circuit movies on motel room televisions that trip, some with nudity, and not regular nudeness, I'm talking about 80's nudity. This was well documented. Excuse me if I'm a little weary in the saddle today. I spent half the night rewinding.