"Just an upset stomach. Trust me, I'll be fine. I probably just need some pepto or something."We get into the car and drive off to the store."Can't ge... enough of me can you?" He asks with a smile."Me? I felt that little squeeze back there." Store first." He says and I nod in agreement. "You have your bag with you?" Right here." I say as I hold it up."Good. My naughty niece needs her Uncle to show her what that toy of hers can really do." I take a little longer in the store than he does so he. Coach Kennedy was my high school football coach and was constantly pushing me to do more. One day at practice he told me was riding my ass over a dropped pass. He told me to start running laps and not stop until he told me to stop. When practice was over, I was still running. My teammates hit the locker room and I was still running. I asked Coach could I stop and go to the locker room. Coach Kennedy said "Did I say stop running?" I kept running laps. I was worn out and about to pass out.. He removed the cinder blocks and dragged the gate once more over each plot to cover the seeds with a thin layer of soil.He also decided that this would be the opportune time to investigate what caused the bell to ring and where it came from.Shortly before noon on the third day, he took his shotgun and hunting knife and headed for the highway, his shadow pinned close beneath his feet. The leaves on trees and bushes were in full bloom and provided the best cover for him to go unnoticed and scout. You even see short-haired, buff chicks in guy clothes. You see all kinds of guys too. Nerdy Asian guys, alert, suspicious white guys and cool, laid-back Arab guys. You spot the studious Hindu guys, always looking vaguely uncomfortable for no reason. They need to learn to relax, seriously. Drink a beer and get laid or something. Anyhow, the one guy who always gets the stares is the Black guy. As I walk through campus, wearing my Obama T-shirt with pride in the aftermath of his successful bid.