OK, before I tell the VERY INTERESTING story of our recent stopover in Medicine Bow, a town of about 200 souls where I once covered the senior prom as a fledgling reporter (between visits to both local watering holes), I want to remind everyone that the cultural event of the year — and perhaps the century — is still going on at your nearby theater. I just can’t get enough of the premise of this movie. Go see it and tell me how great it is (that means you, Josh Yeagley).

Tomorrow (Wednesday), we’ll have the long-anticipated tale of Riley and his surprisingly forward-thinking philosophy of energy usage, as well as his somewhat scientifically suspect theory of the abiotic origin of the world’s oil supply. Riley works at The Virginian, named after the famous locale in the eponymous Owen Wister novel, where they make a killer martini. Plus we’re going up to the Snowy Range with Lisa’s dad in the morning, not coincidentally to the very spot where, more than six years ago now, we were so happily wed. As I tell Lisa frequently, it’s six years but it feels more like 16. (I say it with a great deal of charm, though, which is why I’m still alive.) Plenty of photos will no doubt follow.