Me and J. McD. are sitting in period 1980s lawn chairs, smack in the middle of center field of some Little League game. (H.’s Little League game?) We’re drinking whiskey on the rocks from these crystal tumblers and talking about how such-and-such NBA player on such and such a team is going to help take them all the way to the Stanley Cup this year. But we’re not actually talking, we’re sending text messages back and forth to each other–quiet as two old men at a golf tournament. John points out that such-and-such NBA player (not Dennis Rodman) has really entered a gender-bending phase during his on-court appearances by wearing that feather in his hair.