Tomorrow I travel to the midwest, cornfields and all. A great plains state. The new job's duties are almost in hand, and the child is recovering well from her Ailment that Required Antibiotics (not serious, but still), along with much sleeping in mommy and dady's bed. Little Parnell was milking the care quotient on that last one, but hey, it's nice.
But just before all this, I felt like the title to Tom Waits's new single. Which might be old, coming from a label-satisfying collection of unreleased (to the general buyer) odds and sods from wayback to now.