We’re still in the early stages of a meltdown, however, and nobody knows where the bottom is or how long the trough will be. For now, I’m monitoring the gas plunge and waiting. Because, really, what else am I going to do?

About midmorning, however, we got a call from Ann Cook, who insisted we pop over the hills for dinner. Her son, Nate, was home from Berkeley for the weekend, and we’ve known him since he was 6 (he celebrated his 20th in September), so it was a nice chance to catch up with them. Ann’s two Jack Russells wouldn’t sit still for any photo.

But the meal was terrific, and I’m a little embarrassed to admit that Nate just gets cuter every time I see him. That’s not creepy, right? Morgan just sees the same 6-year-old who wanted to play with his dog, Skye.

Ann’s Brother Ben rounded out the family circle.

We finished up early, because the Cooks were all going to see Transporter 3, and headed home in the early evening. Our local Arco beat out my previous post’s price. It cost nearly $60 to fill up the tank this summer. Thursday, it was about $24. I wonder if people will start buying more Hummers on the short-sighted belief that it’s going to be cheap like this forever.

I thought that was the end of the day, but after we’d been home a mere twenty minutes, our neighbor, Legion (who has the second-coolest name, ever), heard noises through the fence and yelled for us to come next door for pie and cocktails. Who am I to turn down a blueberry-pomegranate martini? The place was full of stand-up comic friends of his, and we had a blast trading jokes until it was late, and we were overstuffed. I think I want it to go just like that next year.