Sterling's Weekly

  Ah, March Madness has started, that magical period of the year that, despite the name, bleeds into early April.   But, if you ask me, the first two days, that Thursday and Friday, those are the best, which, ironically, are made even better if you’re one of those hard-working, textbook nine-to-fivers, like I used to be.   Sort of.   Sure, that kind of job has gotten a lot of flak in the recent years, what with that whole virus thing and then the transition to working remotely—out with the old, in with the new—but, yeah, it still has this perk.   Well, it’s not a “perk,” per se, considering it’s certainly not part of your benefits package or anything, but, come Thursday and Friday, you’re either finagling for a way to get out of the office and head to the nearest sports bar for the early slate of games, or you’re hunched over at your desk, watching them on your phone or computer, quicker than curry through a pensioner as you minimize the windows at the slightest...

Despite what you, dear reader, may be thinking—that is, if you’ve been unfortunate enough to have actually read any of these stories thus far—I do have friends other than Desdemona and the Reverend Father Alabaster Fudge, and I try to branch out every now and then.   Which is precisely why I decided to throw a little shindig at my house the other day.   A barbecue, to be exact.   Nothing crazy.   Just a few neighbors from the cove, really.   Or excuse me, the cul-de-sac, or Morning Wood Court, as the street sign says.   As a transplant, it took me a while to realize that where I’m from is quite possibly one of the only places on earth that refers to such dead-ended roadways as coves.   Anyways, like I said, I was trying to branch out, so I didn’t even invite Des or Rev. Al, but, somehow, they caught wind—perhaps a mole on Morning Wood?—and showed up together.   To their credit, though, they didn’t come emptyhanded.   They arrived together a...

Desdemona, Reverend Al, and I went out to dinner last week at Sushi Train, which is exactly what it sounds like—a restaurant where all-you-can-eat sushi is served via a conveyor belt that winds through the restaurant.  If you spot a plate that piques your interest, boom , you just grab it, like at a buffet, only the buffet is a constantly rotating selection of sushi.  A train.  A sushi train.   About 45 minutes in, I started feeling full, but I dug deep and powered through it.   I think I ended up rounding out the hour with a couple egg rolls and some pork gyoza, a salmon avocado roll, a spicy tuna cucumber roll, and a volcano roll, and then a few of those sugar doughnut puffs and one of those spongey, layered cake things.   Does anyone know the name of those?   Anyways, after I’d finished, Rev. Al found it appropriate at that time to remind me of the sin of gluttony.   I silently thanked him for the lesson on that particular deadly sin and...