Apple Cider! Apple Cider!

Earlier tonight I was sitting in a Yellow Springs beverage establishment, reviewing and taking notes on some video footage from my recent six-week trek back and forth across the United States, in hopes of putting together a good sneak preview for Aimless. At about 6:30, in walked Mr. Dave Chappelle, along with the wife and kids.

While the Mr. and the Mrs. were busy discussing what to order, the boys had clearly made up their minds already. They meant business, too. With the indecisive adults pondering away, the two youngins marched around the small room, chanting in unison: "Apple cider! Apple cider! Apple cider!," as if the supergroup "Apple Cider" was about to take the stage for a reunion concert or something.

It was pretty funny. Dave has some garsh-darn cute kids.

About 15 minutes later, as they all headed toward the door, Dave pulled up the hood on his sweatshirt. When one of the boys asked why he put on the hood, Dave said something about his ears being cold. It occurred to me a minute or two later, though, that Dave probably pulled up the hood to guard against the possibility that I might point my camcorder at him.

Dave, if you ever end up reading this: I wouldn't do that to you, dude, just as I wouldn't think of invading your privacy in any other way, either. You don't need to worry about me, OK.

Aimless