If such a thing is possible, I have had too much fun during the past three days and am still trying to process everything that went down. Some kind of a Coachella report will follow, once I understand how to type again. (Already, I am far too loosy-goosey and relaxed to tango with Mr. QWERTY. This entry serves as a rather rough stab with the keys.)

I would be remiss if I didn’t report that I recently took up miniature golf, my first foray after a three and a half year hiatus. To my great shock, there were a few holes in one and I scored five under par on the intermediate course. This augurs well for a rather silly (and hitherto unannounced) desire I’ve had to be good at some kind of quirky sport that really can’t be qualified as a sport. (And in golf’s case, we’re talking about a particularly silly idea that involves up far too much land and consumes far too much gasoline for ridiculous-looking vehicles traveling at bradykinetic speeds up and down grass that is more well-tended than most palatial mansions. In other words, extravagance for extravagance’s sake. Mini-golfing, by contrast, involves playing on a strip of land occupied by windmills, castles and other pleasing and colorful landmarks that only a heart of anthracite could say no gracias to. It takes up far less space than a country club and, because of its quirks, warrants the same kind of attention afforded to bowling, air hockey, frisbees and the like. And if such fixations trouble you, there is nothing here I need to apologize for. I am, after all, a Californian.)

I didn’t do quite as well on the “masters course” (a few shots over par), in large part because I still need to work on putting the ball up anthills. But I think a bit of practice should get my drive down.

On this particular course, there were even some lovely peacocks, ducks and lizards running around the green, which I suppose might have provided sufficient motivation and awe for me to concentrate.

The conclusion to be drawn: animals can be counted upon in a pinch to improve your game. Perhaps if various forms of wildlife were to be let loose into AT&T Park (ideally during a Dodgers game), the San Francisco Giants, who are currently at a 13-11 standing, might be counted upon to rush past the Colorado Rockies and secure their rightful standing on the National League West roster. Of course, it’s still early in the season. The important thing to note is that the Giants are ahead of that disreputable team based in Los Angeles, which gives me a small if shameful bit of pleasure.

In any event, there seems to be a good deal of conversation going on at the LBC, which warrants your attention. There is also a planned litblog function in the works scheduled in tandem with BookExpo America. Your faithful correspondent will be there. And, of course, the Tayari Jones drinking offer still stands. If you were photographed with Ms. Jones at Busboys and Poets during her recent stint there, produce the photograph to me and I will buy you a drink.

Much more to come. But I’m hoping you are all feeling as fantastic about May as I am. And if not, I have a maypole specialist and several florists who I can happily refer you to.

[UPDATE: Tito and I exchanged numerous voicemails and text messages and never quite met up, save through two unexpected skirmishes when we were both respectively scampering to different locales. But he has several Flickr photos up.]