Mt. Webster from Crawford Notch. Next time. And there will be one. If winter comes back. And then we'll put the plan into action.

Dignan: Well, thank you for coming.
Anthony: It's good seeing you.
Dignan: Did you bring that grappling hook?
Bob: Grappling hook?
Dignan: Don't worry about it. I think I may have found a way out of here.
Anthony: You're kidding.
Dignan: No, I'm not.
Anthony: How?
Dignan: Shhh! Wait for my instructions! When we go through the next gate, you will have 30 seconds to take out the tower guard.
Anthony: What?
Dignan: 30 seconds. Have the car running at the northwest checkpoint. Bob and I are going to scale the barricade.
Bob: No, we're not.
Dignan: And then we're going to cut through to no man's land, and Bob, remember, shield me from the bullets. They won't shoot civilians. Are you ready?
Bob: Hold on, man.
Anthony: Wait a second, Dignan.
Dignan: Let's go! Let's go! Now! Now! Now! ... Isn't it funny how you used to be in the nuthouse and now I'm in jail?

The trip was cool. I think by not having any real objectives, well, we didn't set ourselves up to fail, at least. Honestly, we felt great. Fantastic time, and I'm not even going to put in the qualifier "all things considered." Because we don't need it.

The drive home was, in a word, illegal.

Dignan: On the run from Johnny Law. It ain't no trip to Cleveland.

A few other thoughts about the coming back:

• I don't know why it is, but every time I travel, even if it's only a 3-day trip, when I get back to my local radio station I fully expect all of the music to be completely new. As if during my hiatus much new rock and roll ground should have been broken. And I'm invariably shocked to find that same old Jimmy Eat World song on.
• They should just go ahead and use a shovel to put the sugar in the coffee at Dunkin' Donuts. Do it yourself - it's imperative. Two hours later I was in a coma.
• As the abominable snowman on Looney Tunes said, "Gosh it's hot." It should not be 67F in January. I kept checking the date on my watch every time I'd look at the temperature. Winter must return.
• The definition of desperate: 1,200 miles for two pitches and some grovelling.
• Yes, we're still in Connecticut.