My son and his wife are visiting my ex and her "real man" husband for the Thanksgiving holiday. Today we had a nice lunch then headed for the local indoor shooting range. He had some neat stories to tell re: Daredevil and Jessica Jones. Mind you, this was the child that my ex would rather have had aborted from her innards back in 19 ought 81. I pity her real-man husband. Oh- and they both recently retired at the age of 60. I may not have jack shit to my name, but I have my sanity. It was written into my contract with God. I'm not sure it's worth much, because as we all know, sanity claus isn't real.