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The annual summer invasion of the Rock has begun. There are creepy, curious, voracious creatures everywhere, and I’m not talking about tented caterpillars littering our footsteps. Squish, squish, squish.
My friend Bill Dyer died recently, just shy of his 88th birthday.
What is it about life on the Rock that makes all of us so contented most of the time? Can’t be the weather — too wet. Can’t be the booming economy — it isn’t. Can’t be the scintillating night life — um, let’s not go there.