As evidenced from the horrible title, I am in Gatlinburg for a few days’ holiday with the family. I’m having a lovely time so far, not least because I am not at work. I’ve read a book and a half so far, MARSBOUND by Joe Haldeman and the second book in the Dresden Files series. Am currently killing time before we go out to dinner.

One item of note: When we were wandering around Gatlinburg last night, I went into one of the many tiny shops selling touristy stuff. There was no shopkeeper at the counter, staring suspiciously at potential customers, which I found unusual. Most of the time that is all they do because it’s not like anyone is going to buy something. Then I went around the corner and nearly stepped on him. He was out cold on the floor, curled up behind a row of tacky t-shirts that bore clever lines like “I am a Princess (My father is the King of Kings).”

I’m not sure if he was dead but I didn’t stick around to find out. I wonder if someone beat him to death with his own shoe?

JAB