Saturday coffee.
The first time I ever went to Springfield, Illinois was in 1975. Anne, our daughter and I were heading out on a road trip to Los Angeles. We had planned to leave early in the morning, but by mid-afternoon the day before we were all packed and ready to go.
“Why not leave now,” I asked?
“Why not,” said Anne.
By 6PM we were in Springfield. Enough time to check out the Capitol, rub Lincoln’s nose and find a motel.
In the years since, particularly over the past ten years, I have been to Springfield way too many times. That’s