I've started trying, when I've gotten enough sleep to wake up before it gets hot, to take a thirty minute walk around the neighborhood. I listen to instrumentals of the songs I'm working on, walk, and smoke. It feels like exercise.
Two blocks away is the Texas State Cemetery, and in the area reserved for the leading heroes of our Republic, there among John Connally, some other dead white guys and one person I actually respect (Barbara Jordan), lies Tom Landry.
On opening day of this critical season, I visited the shrine.
Dallas 28, Cleveland 10. A tradition is born. (Let's take care of those silly penalties)
UPDATE: For the 3 people who read this and thought I was serious: please. I had no idea the guy was buried two blocks from my house. And Texas is a state, not a Republic.
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