In Praise of the Midwest

Each morning I wake up and go to the beach1, without crowds or sticky salt water. After a short swim, because I’m not much of a beach person, I leave for a ten mile walk on small shaded roads through forests and fields. Then in the afternoon I read in the McDonald’s, or in a park, or the library, and then at night I either go to a dive bar (I’ve got five excellent choices where I can get twenty five ounce drafts for five or less), or one of the six craft beer places nearby.