Rockford was built around a gigantic river, covered in bridges and filled with boats, parks lining up and down, everywhere you look, and much larger than I’d imagined. We took our places on a bench next to the river, and as I watched the ducks bobbing up and down, a hot cup of coffee in my hand and numbness through my body, I was disappointed to find that I had become a cantankerous old man much faster than God intended. The rest is a muddled, uninteresting bore, which I won’t bother to repeat.