I’m really a happily garrulous, agreeably “C’mon, let’s just do it” kind of guy, but I’m starting to feel like The Mountains’ version of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. Last issue, your favorite magazine chose to do an edition all about love and friendship. So, what do I write? That I don’t like eating out with a lot of people all at the same table. This month, the publication’s big theme is music. How can you hate music? It’s more bizarre than gagging on mountain air, refusing Joel Robuchon’s butter drenched mashed potatoes or putting on Janis Ian albums for…
