Ringer on a Racetrack

Today was another up and early day. The Building Inspector at the Town of Brimfield, Jack Keough, is only there for two hours on Friday morning and I had to make the 1 3/4 hour drive out to the Berkshires, leaving at 7:00AM. No problem usually except for the 4:00 AM gig the previous morning.
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You know me....
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I don't bitch and I don't complain. Those traits are just not in the repetoire of a Mountain of a Man like me.
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But my concern is that these irregular starting hours have truly changed the routine that my body has been used to. In other words, I haven't had a solid waste passing in two days. That's right.... constipated..... damn constipated.
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So by the end of the day today, my last stop was to get to Costco in Danvers and pick up a couple gallons of Newman's Own Grape Juice. This stuff has treated my digestive system like a ringer on a racetrack in the past.
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After three big tumblers in the last hour..... nothing.
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I'm starting to get concerned. No Camptown Races yet. Do Dah.