From the Jill Schwartz Memorial Library here in Sultry, Savannah, Georgia.

This is Obscure.

Season 4 in American Tragedy.

I'm your host, your friend, your earlover, your literary mansplainer in chief Michael Ian Black now firmly

ensconced, ensconced? Is that right? Back on American soil. After a month abroad,

O'France, great to be back, and I'm putting the word great

in quotes for all of the mixed motions I am experiencing upon returning to this land.

Obviously, this is not a place for politics, and so I see no reason to talk about

politics, but suffice to say, the political environment, I don't know when you were listening.

It could be years from now. The political environment at the moment is tenuous at best.

Not so tenuous is my mood, which is surprisingly upbeat now that I am returned to my native soil.

I don't know that I'm upbeat because I'm on native soil or because I am, you know, consuming

all sorts of American goodies that were denied to me across the pond.

And when I say all kinds of American goodies, I really just mean I had an ice cream

sandwich last night.

And that was terrific.

I've gotten into the habit. Maybe we've talked about this before. Maybe we have not.

Of eating an ice cream sandwich each night. It's a great way to celebrate being alive,

the ice cream sandwich. And so after we arrived home following, you know, whatever it was, 18 hours of travel, the

cupboards were bare because my negligent son really didn't do any grocery shopping during

the month when we were away.

And so really the only thing in the household

...