XXX

     Earlier this week, Michael, Sterling and I were checking out some potential locations for the driving school that we want to launch in the next couple of weeks.  After visiting the first rental space Mike explained to Sterling and I that "Triple Net" is a term used in leasing commercial space that refers to the real estate taxes, insurance and building maintenance costs (garbage service etc), which are either included in the lease agreement, or added to it as an additional monthly expense.  We drove to the second commercial property that we wanted to visit, and while we were discussing the monthly rental cost with the leasing agent - and wanting to appear like I knew what I was doing - I confidently asked him whether this amount included the Triple X costs.  There was a long pause as the agent racked his brain to figure out what in the world I was talking about.  After a few seconds Michael came to my rescue and said, "I think he means the triple net cost."  Of course, there was no way that Mike and Sterling were going to let that one go, and the rest of the afternoon we laughed till we cried about what that guy must have thought about this church that wants to open a XXX video store.  Somehow, I'm certain that "Triple X" will find its way into our staff meetings these next couple of weeks.

     Yesterday, Daphne and I drove Karine to the airport for her flight back to Birmingham, and with mixed emotions said goodbye as she joined the line to go through security.  I know every other parent goes through the same thing as their children one-by-one leave the nest; it just feels strange for us that we've reached this place in our parenting.  I feel sorry for the eldest children in the family because they have the dubious honor of bearing the brunt of all our mistakes as they smooth the way for their younger siblings to follow.  And we've made more than our share of mistakes with Karine.
     After dropping her at the airport we went by the hospital to visit Cortland and Tiny and the newest addition to our team - Zeke Michael Coffey.  He's a beautiful little boy - not a shriveled up pink version of Jimmy Durante like some babies I've seen.  You know the awkward moment when you first peer into the crib and think, "wow, that's an ugly baby!  I think he needs to go back into the oven to cook some more"  But you say, "Ohhh, isn't he gorgeous!"   We're all liars at some point.  But, like I said, Zeke is a perfect little Gerber baby.  He was born precisely on his due date, as was Emily's baby. Which proves, once again, that the women on our team like to do things on time.  We bought some pastries for Cort and Tiny at a French bakery run by Americans, and then had lunch at a Lebanese restaurant where the waiter is from El Salvador, and the kitchen staff are all from Mexico.  The food was great, but we missed the opportunity to speak French again and to share stories about Lebanon.

     The last stop we made before heading back up the hill was to the home of an official scorer for Boone and Crockett - the designated keepers of all big-game hunting records - to have my bear skull measured and scored.  And sure enough, it's big enough to get in the record book.  B & C have two categories of records:  Award level, and All-Time records.  When it comes to black bears, anything over 20 inches (length plus width) is big enough to qualify for the award level and possibly as an all-time record.  My bear was 20 9/16 inches, so I will get my picture and score in the next official record book that will come out two years from now.  Pretty cool.  My bear should rank somewhere around the 14th largest black bear ever harvested in Colorado (which isn't known for producing record-sized bears).  I can't wait to see the bearskin rug when it's finished three or four months from now.