Bagels, Y'all

Hard to say what it is about Sunday mornings that just cry out for bagels and lox and the newspaper; the closest I got today was whole wheat toast with cream cheese and some coffee, but at least we have jazz playing, in an attempt to seem cultivated.

Gene suggested that if I needed to read the New York Times, I had a computer within arm's reach, but there is just something about having the physical reams of paper strewn around the floor, being walked over by the dogs and chewed on by the Bean. If I had been more organized, I would have picked up some bagels and lox yesterday, but the real problem is, there is just nowhere nearby that actually carries decent bagels or lox. It's a bitch, but there it is. There are many fine things about living on the Peninsula, but Sunday morning bagels and lox isn't one of them.

We did get to talking about how nice it would be to be able to walk down to the bagel shop on Franklin Street in Chapel Hill, grab a dozen and some coffee, stop at the bookstore on the way home for the paper, and then spend the day appropriately. It's not quite the Manhattan experience, but perhaps we could make it Manhattan of the South, at least in a small way. Just to have some sidewalks and shopfronts would be pleasant beyond measure, and I'll even take the drunken undergrad component on Friday nights to be able to walk to get ice cream.

For those of you we haven't told, we're thinking very seriously of buying a place (maybe land and building, but that's a big maybe) in Chapel Hill this summer and then gradually moving our base of operations eastward. It's not happening tomorrow, but a few more lazy Sunday mornings sans bagels and the paper, and I might have to ramp up the decampment a bit.