Thirty points later, mind having been through the meat grinder of social philosophy made in defense of the indefensible, it is Monday morning. Monday, the day on which in mine own minority, my esteemed father would wake me with the shout, "Monday! Monday! Another week in which to excel!!" This Monday is where the spouse and self find the high school kids of Montrose Academy delivered into our charge that the truths of philosophically grounded nobility can be shoved into minds that only have plug-ins for entertainment and the requisite soundtrack. This is difficult for the man who sees the iPod as the equivalent of a hamster wheel.
We get an hour each day all week.
Wish us luck.
No.. pray for us.