I know, inveterate sleazy single guy finally finds a woman who thinks that she might like to endure his annoying tendancies and pretentious ponderings for the rest of her life.

So - I sent Frank Sinatra down to do a singing telegram to Steph:

Of course, parking was hell and he had to call for help finding it, then Steph uncharacteristically actually went out to lunch, so I had to call her and tell her to get her ass back to work, but I guess it all worked out.

He sounds really good over the cell phone - Steph said he was a good looking older guy.

…
But here’s the good news. You fix this thing, you’re the next greatest generation, people. You do this—and I believe you can—you win this war on terror, and Tom Brokaw’s kissing your ass from here to Tikrit, let me tell ya. And even if you don’t, you’re not gonna have much trouble surpassing my generation. If you end up getting your picture taken next to a naked guy pile of enemy prisoners and don’t give the thumbs up you’ve outdid us.

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