It's all there. The scratches, the dings, the too much, the not enough, the burn, the freeze, the rough, the soft, the thing, the opposite of the thing. Et cetera, bruté? Then fall, Lo-Fat Buttermilk Ranch. It's like a friggin map, if I had but eyes to see. And if I could read maps, I'd know where to go.And if I knew where to go, then I could tell everybody else where to go. This morning I got a stock tip from Jesus. No kidding.