From the Jill Schwartz Memorial Library here in the wilds of Connecticut, this is obscure

season two, Frankenstein.

I am your host, your friend, your ear lover, your literary mansplainer in chief and

Georgianologist, back with, you know, more, more of the same, more of Mary Shelley's

Frankenstein as we plot along on our way to Geneva, and we begin today with, I guess, an

alarming observance on my part.

I've had an alarming observance and its allergies season, and so you can probably hear that I'm

about 33% towards a sneeze, but it's not quite emerging.

So if I sound a little nasally and weird, you know it's because of the gathering sneeze

storm that is accruing in my Sinai, and I just made a Sinai as a plural of sinus, even

though I know it's sinuses, okay?

Just go with me.

The alarming observation is this.

You know, if you've been paying attention the last couple episodes that my mood has been

somewhat topsy-turvy because of events that have been going on in my life, and that

remains somewhat unresolved, although maybe more resolved than it has been.

And the other night, we had dinner with a couple of friends.

My wife made a friend several years ago when she was in school, an interior design school,

getting, you know, degree.

And she met a woman, and we subsequently became friends with her and her husband, and we

hadn't seen him in about six months.

We went out to eat in this.

...