(2004-06-15) I am in a gym at McAdoo High School in my hometown.  A lot of people, both adults and kids, are there working on the hardwood floor, staining and buffing it.  They don't seem to have a system, and sometimes are walking on the fresh stain before it can be buffed.  I also notice that the floor slopes at one point like a swimming pool, and I wonder how it is possible to play basketball on that and whether they are going to fix it.  One of the people sitting on the floor staining it is Sonny Binkle.  When I walk past him, he playfully reaches out with his brush and puts a stripe down the pants which I am wearing, which are light tan slacks about the color of the floor.  It makes me mad that he has probably ruined a good pair of pants, but I try to make a joke about it by commenting on the similarity of the color of my pants to the color of the floor.  But I think about how I can get even.  Carole Warner is also there.  She remarks sarcastically to someone that they are fixing up the opera house with all these people and even me, Phil.  I interpret her remark to mean that I don't like opera.  The woman to whom the remark is directed says, "Oh, everyone loves opera."  I think to myself, "Oh sure, sister."  That part of the gym that they are working on has big logs crisscrossing the ceiling like a log house.