Sarah and I had breakfast with Jeff and Michelle at Varsity Inn where we all had some variation of pancakes and eggs washed down by endless rounds of translucent coffee. Across the street at Gasworks Kite Shop they sell $250 kites and have a staff that's anxious to demonstrate every new toy. Jeff splurged on a $3.50 classic batlike kite whose stick-on bloodshot eyes spelled Gayla. The paper bag it came in could itself be turned into a kite and even without tape or scissors to cut along the dotted lines it probably would have fared better than the flimsy cross on which the bat was crucified. It was blustery and casualties hung from trees just past the reach of climbing families. Ours didn't even make it that high before its wings tore and it nosedived. But since it was windy enough to fly a hubcap the mangling of the bat didn't stop Michelle from racing up the hill where the flapping sheet of tattered black plastic shredded the wind and turned jerky loops just over our heads.