When one devotes significant portions of one's day to working, driving, cooking, cleaning, snot-wiping, and the other requisites of responsible parenthood, there is a lot to be said for an evening-time ramble on a bicycle. Luckily, on Tuesday night my buddy Ken wanted to "kiss the river," as he likes to say, so he led us on a zig-zag from his place off Farmington, through the Trinity campus, and eventually to the river, where we sat and talked for a spell. It was hardly a marathon (or its cycling equivalent), but it did wonders for my disposition.
The monument to Puerto Rican families, lately
somewhat maligned, has apparently skirted controversy by honoring la familia boricua with a nice clean piece of plywood.
From the path between I-91 and the river, downtown Hartford looks like, well, the sort of place that would benefit from a tripod if it is to be photographed at night.
There's my boy Kenny, looking thoroughly noirish in the low light.
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