Playlisted

In my old age, things are simpler. Bacchanal happiness comes easy. One part near-freezing cider. One part tunage. And one part comradeship. Of course the cider must be plentiful. (Too many pints tonight, though.) The music has to be loud. (But we playlisted too long.) And the comrade must be trusted and honest and forthright. (Hard to find.)

Post-work adventures at my favoritest super dive, Rooney's. 90s jams on TouchTunes. Plates of smoked brisket from Murky Waters. And not a sign of seriousness or responsibility or obligations to be found. Just a couple of hours of catching up and decompressing.

Cheap. Easy. Simple.

Keeps a man 95% happy. And helps steel him for the remaining 5%.