I'm filling this space after the fact for the sake of posterity.
There was no weekly column on Monday, August 3, 2015, because it was my 55th birthday, and I had a combination party and campaign fundraiser to consider.
It went well. I drank Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Marzen all night, destroyed a medium deep-dish (roundhouse) herbivore pizza all by myself, and raised a few dollars to boot.
For the sake of my Euro '85 narrative, I can jump forward just a few weeks and note that for my 25th birthday on August 3, 1985, I was joined by an Australian named Mark at a restaurant in Leningrad (now St. Petersburg).
There was vodka, with predictable results.
It seems like a thousand years ago now.
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