It’s nearly picnic season again.
And suddenly we’re reminded of when picnicking was a bona fide event: your parents would pack snacks and drive the whole gang to the park, or the beach, or whatever breezy venue felt most appropriate. You’d munch. You’d enjoy the sun. And you’d fly some damn kites.
Good times were had by all.
Soon enough, it’ll be you in the driver’s seat. You’re probably not entirely there yet—what without the wife and the kids and the station wagon and everything—but there’s still nothing stopping you from a little high-flying glory of your own. Because the game’s the same: just run like hell until the darn thing stays aloft. However, your old box-kite might not cut it anymore.
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