I’m sure I’m misreading this, but every time I see John Henry’s young bride on the town with her mister, I get the vibe of a woman living the desperate life of the “reverse vampire”—longing to stay out in the daylight, begging for just one more drink at the bar or one more after-hours party or another limo ride up and down Comm Ave. Ever fearful of the setting sun and last call.
Because she knows that when darkness falls and she finds herself trapped inside the four walls of stately Henry Manor, it’s all old man testicles, all the time.
A small price to pay, she may have once thought, for a life of leisure and sweet friggin’ box seats for every Sox home game. But in practice, how much grandpa-shaggin’ can a young lass take?
Ah, I’m sure I’m way off with that assessment. I mean, just look how happy Tom Werner and his wife are:
