
Dear 97,The world would have me think that you’re all that. I know better.You are reckless and unpredictable, in fact I’d venture a guess that your middle name is Danger…I think it’s time the truth got out there.Last night you came to visit just as my son was going to bed at 9:23pm. Admittedly, a visit from 54 or 398 would have been a bit more disconcerting, but the pinnacle intention of this letter is this: you are just as dangerous. You lull us into a feeling of comfortability and then, without warning, drop.And drop hard.It’s a cruel cruel joke.I know that the possibility of you staying 97 is slim to none. And even...