I had myself a wonderfully enjoyable birthday weekend. Friday after work was marked with the consumption of tasty liters of German beer at the Hofbrauhaus. Not only did I behave myself, in accordance with the stateliness of my advancing age, but I returned home when I told the Puddinette I would. It seems that in the past, I have occasionally had…issues…accurately reading a clock face while simultaneously consuming tasty malt-based beverages. As a reward for being a responsible person, my children met me in the dark with a pan full of delicious brownies and glowing candle.

Did I forget to mention that the power was out when I got home? Luckily, electricity returned shortly after I made a wish and blew out the candle, and we all enjoyed fudgy, chocolaty goodness.

Saturday was chock full of constant activity. I got up early to have the hair on my head (and yes, at this age, I seem to have enough hair in other, less favored locations that it is important to be specific) shortened to a respectable length, submit my car for its periodic oil change, and take care of a few basement-related things at Home Depot. The errands at those three locations, all of them within a handful of miles from my home, somehow took all morning. I’m sure the Puddinette was silently cursing my name as each quarter-hour passed without my return. Either that or she had to have worried that I had been swallowed, along with the second son accompanying me, into the gaping maw of some nefarious Northern Kentucky trans-dimensional time warp.

Turns out I was just waiting to schedule a carpet installation, but it sure seemed like the time-vortex thing to me at the time.

After finally getting home and having a nice family lunch, she went with the Daughter to a school friend’s birthday party while the boys and I worked the daily To-Do list.

Later, in the early evening, my parents arrived to watch the kids so the wife and I could spend the night out with old friends, of whom we see far too little. We met at the local watering hole we’ve been meeting at since before we collectively had any children or sense. One of our group had gotten a bit of an early start and was determined that I consume 15 or 20 Irish Car Bombs to “catch up” before dinner. I successfully deflected his persistence, although I was roped into drinking something call a Cherry Bomb, which left a cloying sweetness in the back of my throat I can still taste.

We dined at PF Chang’s, which was tasty, as always. Sure, it’s not Le Bernardin, but for a group of old friends out for a night without their respective young ‘uns, it is a very dependable, enjoyable spot for dinner. Also, did I mention the lettuce wraps? Mmmmm, tasty lettuce wraps.

After dinner, we proceeded to another local bar/club, where I witnessed a mix of people among various social strata all enjoying the hell out of themselves with reckless abandon. If you had told me I would see a dance floor populated with college girls, middle-aged, blue-collar ladies showing the tell-tale signs of more than a few years of hard livin’, motorcycle enthusiasts, young professionals, a lady sporting Tina Turner’s golden perm and shirtless suit (circa 1984), and someone with a hairstyle that can only be described as a “poodle-fro”, I would have suggested that maybe you should stop doing whippets with the bottles of compressed air for cleaning your keyboard at work. But it was all there, and I didn’t embellish any of those descriptions. In fact, I could probably spend 400 words doing nothing but painting you a picture of the wonder that is Muggbees, but I’m too tired. I think I summed it up nicely in the facebook status I set while we were there; “this place is people watching magic”.

It was a wonderful experience, and a fantastic weekend all the way around. Sure, I accidentally picked up a slight hangover from some place like a lost puppy, but the good times I had more than make up for it. And then, a shiny cherry to top it all: my hockey team skated to a playoff win tonight, with only 6 skaters, in an epic battle that will be recounted as a legend to children for centuries to come.

It was a very good weekend.

I’m tired. G’nite.

pud’n