Saturday morning is, arguably, the single finest time of the week. When we were kids, Saturday morning was the time when you would race downstairs, fill a mixing bowl with a sugary cereal, and camp in front of the TV set, sitting cross-legged in our PJs and watching cartoons for hours — always looking forward to the time when our favorite, Johnny Quest, would come on. In college, Saturday morning was the essential recuperative period after the long, late, Friday night festivities. These days, I often work on Saturday mornings, but even those times are more relaxed and enjoyable because I can play baroque music on the internet radio and am not interrupted by telephone calls.
No matter how old you are, Saturday mornings are irresistible because the school work or work week has just ended, you have no immediate obligations, and the weekend yawns before you, pristine and full of promise and possibility.