Corn bags: FOR CORN ONLY

I just walked five miles or so, primarily to figure out how long it takes to walk the 1.9 miles from the Saratoga train station—just in case, y'know, I need to meet someone at a train sometime. (The answer: 38 minutes, platform to front door.) The trip takes me through the red neck of the woods, and brings home the social duality of upstate New York; the Saratoga town boundary marks a steep econocline. I saw a man standing outside the hospital holding a stop sign above his head: "STOP ABORTION NOW," with charming little pictures taped on. On my approach, I first thought he was standing there gripping a real stop sign for some reason; I wonder if he causes traffic trouble. I am tempted to make my own sign and stand next to him—"IGNORE THIS GUY" with an arrow, say, or "ACTUALLY, GOD SAYS IT'S OK"—but probably won't. "IT'S NOT A REAL STOP SIGN—KEEP ON TRUCKIN'!" You know.

I also bought strings, and was apparently pegged as a kindred spirit by the kid behind the counter; he was very keen on getting me to come to the Saratoga Guitar Show in mid-September. 50 dealers, 50-75 guitars each...oh dear. And I do need to get an electric at some point. Just for the sex appeal, of course.

Discovery of the day: SoBe's Black & Blue Berry Brew is really tasty. Yums.