NostraD - Pumped!

Pumped!

I was stoked, pumped, jacked! For the first time in a long time I had good news to report as I waited for the Boss to show for our 9:30 at Peet's on the Hill.

Here he came. You could say commanding presence just by the way he dressed: Southern California de rigueur - shorts, t-shirt, and flip-flops (but curiously, socks?). Ignore the socks, Dr. Michel de Nostradamus is indeed The Man.

"Boss, Boss," I yelled in a curiously higher pitch than normal before he could even sit down, "Your numbers are in! The base is loving it!"

"Hold on there, Hoss," the Boss said, "Slow down. What do you mean by the numbers and the base and loving what?"

"The new you, the old you, back to basics, predicting, man, predicting!" I was beside myself. "We took a dive when it was reported you drove a Dodge Dart but after the sleek black Mercedes limo the sleeper cells went wild! Your numbers are way up!"

"Mon dieu." I could hear the maestro mutter to himself but I don't speak Italian or Latin or whatever so I don't know what he was saying. But that was not what was important.

"So," I asked, "What do you think?"

"Number One," Dr. N said, "I'm not feeling well, can we reschedule?"

"Sure thing, Boss," I replied, "Whatever you say."

I was disappointed but nevertheless, this was a good day! A very good day indeed!

Dixi