This last Saturday was Batman Day – the anniversary of Batman appearing in print for the first time. Supposed to be a big deal in certain circles, but, alas, it was pretty tame this year.

There was a lovely family moment though. A mother and son popped in and we chatted for a few minutes. They used to go to Barnes & Noble every Batman Day when B&N was still giving a shit about things like that. This year they came to my shop. We had the free books, and helped them grab a few more to make the visit complete. They’d been celebrating Batman Day since the young man was 10 years old – this year he’s twenty. It was adorable – they were adorable.

I’ve been thinking a lot about family shit lately. I need to get south to see my dad. I don’t see my kids enough. I work too much. School is freaking me out. I don’t see my kids enough …

… there’s a solid line of chickenshit running through the thing with the kids. Mine, certainly, and theirs, too. Chickenshit, bullshit, silly shit, and divorce shit. The frustration levels are untenable. If you know, you know. If you want to know, ask me. I’m not going to type it all here for anyone to stumble on.

As to the shop – we got everything back inside the store over the weekend, and the new guy, Braxton, did most of the heavy lifting. I like the guy, and I think you will, too. Stop into the shop and meet him if you’re in the neighborhood.

You know … this week’s post is reading weird. No flow. It’s already a day late, too. I’m going to stop, and then come back next week with something better.

Sorry about that.