I have to say: baths are amazing. When I think of simple pleasures and the finer things in life, baths now come to mind. Last night, in Houston, when I got to my hotel room I was stressed from a rough day spent working with my boss. I was eager to shower, change out of my monkey suit, and hit the streets for some exploration. While playing with the mixing valve for a steaming hot shower, the notion of a bath entered my brain. Why not? I was at a 4 star hotel, and the tub was spotless after all (I'd never take a bath in my tub!). So I dedicated the next 30 minutes to some much needed me-time. I propped my iPad up and played some Explosions In The Sky, grabbed a few extra towels and filled the tub. The next half hour was spent soaking, contemplating and reminiscing of the times when my 8 other brothers and sisters would take turns bathing in that old brick house outside of Pittsburgh. It was then that I realized it had been over 22 years since I last turned all pruney in a giant porcelain trough. Vivid memories came flooding back to me of evening sunsets and the sound of my siblings still running around outside. I could hear them through the open upstairs bathroom window . I remembered a time, I must have been 7 or so, when my older sister Molly shampooed my hair making me giggle as she lathered my noggin comically. And the water; oh the water! Grey with a day's worth of playing in the woods, catching grasshoppers in the garden and baseball with my friend Cody, down the street.