Porching.  v., from porch, n., an exterior appendage to a building, forming a covered approach or vestibule to a doorway.  To sit, usually accompanied by a book, laptop, music, beer, cigars, and/or companions, on one’s porch in the summer.

Porching is an essential summer activity.  Right now I am with my roommate Brendan and our friend Colin on our front porch, watching the Tuesday rush hour tool on by.  Usual Ann Arbor fare: pedestrians almost getting hit by cars, people stopping at the intersection where they should keep driving, a lot of Volvos and Volkswagens, and sweaty runners.  It’s not as hot as it was yesterday, and certainly not as humid.  I actually needed blankets last night.  I am blogging (obviously) and they are leafing through Recording the Beatles.  We are all sipping on beers.

“Life’s the shit.  Can I just throw that out there?” Brendan asks, moving one of the broken bikes out of the way.  He’s going to get the hookah.  Sure.  We can all take more of life if this is what it’s like.  It’s generally not all that easy, though, but summer in Ann Arbor is basically the closest thing to perfect that I’ve seen yet.

We are going to Washington, D.C. in on the 26th to protest the apparent death of my friend and yours, habeas corpus.  The ACLU is organizing buses from most major cities and the trip is free, as long as you are prepared for an exciting day of lobbying with likeminded individuals from around the country.  I guess my problem is that most of these guys are what you might call “bleeding-heart” liberals.  It is the ACLU, after all.  They aren’t exactly likeminded individuals, at least as far as I’m concerned.

That’s the other thing about Ann Arbor.  It’s not easy to be a conservative in this town.

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