Again, let me clarify: I’m not going to be on the show. I’m going to a resort in L.A. affiliated with the TV show.
As Mitch pointed out, took me until age 58 to make it to summer camp. In this case, spring training.
Hard to leave Mitch and our trusty sidekick, who looks like she’s sticking out of my carry-on. No, she’s not; much as I’d like to take her with me.
Tough to pack for this trip because none of what I packed fits me comfortably right now. On the other hand, that’s why I’m going. And where I’m going, no one will care.
If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a plane to catch.