A death foretold in this blog came true over the weekend when our 25-year-old refrigerator finally crapped out. Having lived less than one week without a fridge, I have new resepect for that appliance. It really impacts your life when you don’t have milk for your cereal in the morning or ice for your cocktails at night. My whole eating routine is jacked up after just five days. Thankfully, the new fridge arrived this morning. I had to leave work to let it (the fridge) into the house, and when I exited I-10, there at the corner of the feeder and Watson was a half-full pitcher of what looked like beer. Just sitting there. It was like a cartoon – someone wants to trap a George Wendt-type, so they put out a pitcher of beer. When the George Wendt-type reaches for it, POW he’s upside down in a net.