Heading off to two days of golf with my Syracuse buddies, and I had to make an adjustment to the room arrangements. It’s been said that I snore. Normally we go two to a room - based on how the event started about 30 years ago. One year I was woken by my buddy, Rob, who was throwing wet wash rags at me. “You’re snoring!” The next year, my buddy, Tony, woke me at 4 in the morning as he was showering. “What the hell are you doing?” I asked. “I’m going to sleep in the lobby,” he said. “It’s like sleeping with a bear.” So, my buddy Tom called: “I lost,” he said. “You’re my roommate.” “That’s not happening,” I said. “I’m getting my own room.” “But we’re supposed to split the cost,” he said. “Good Lord,” I said. “You have more money than God. You can take the hit.” After I booked the room, I mentioned to Kathy that I wasn’t sharing a room. “You don’t even want to share a room with me,” she said. “I can’t believe the rest of them are sharing rooms.” And it is a little odd, I guess, but that’s