On French bread, Caydance spread triple creme cheese that had arrived at a desirable temperature. As usual, when her husband talked football, it was like a poetry reading (sort of). On the telephone, Griff was retelling a story.

Griff opened a bag of Fritos and a Hawaiian beer. "My Quarterback River Angelos, looked up at his Father. 'You left my college education in Mom's hands,' he said. He found a window, threw a perfect pass at one of the remaining receivers. Now he faced only one receiver, blocked by five defenders. Angelos senior stepped onto the field, yelled: 'Tony quit, and I need a waiter. You are too short to make the NFL, and this theoretical physics thing is ridiculous. I expect you to join me working in the restaurant.'"

Griff paused for effect, continued. "Although last I knew he was in his office doing President of the College things, Durango strode onto the field. River found a window between the defenders (he had to look through the space between their bodies, because he is too short to see over their heads). He leaped into the air, threw the ball directly into the hands of the waiting receiver; turned to his Father and asked 'when was the last time you talked with Mom?'

"'Three years ago,' Angelos senior replied.

"On the field, Durango towered over River's Father. 'Do you want to repeat that remark about theoretical physics?' he asked."