Hockey Dad lamentation
I am a hockey dad. Forget about this book tour stuff, or politics: I was with Son One at a game on West side of town to almost midnight (we won). Then, up way too early to get Son Two to goalie school on the East side (he’s not bad).
If you are unsure who I am, look for the guy wearing combat pants and boots, leather jacket, and a DOA T-shirt.
Asleep in his truck.
Over and out.
						

