By Abram Perry It was a cool day on the Ohio River. The wind had picked up, and I had to dig in a bit harder with my paddle to keep the bow of the canoe on course. Almost there. I had been making my way down the river for 110 days. I was filled…
Honestly, I cannot imagine how it happened. In my last editorial, I described the great joy to be had, fobbing off a bunch of crusty old British car parts on a co-worker. Somehow, in spite of changing his name in the article, Kevin figured out I was talking about him. So he sent me a…
