I saw a countdown clock to St. Patrick’s Day recently that had days, hours, and minutes. I realized that it’s counting down to Midnight on St. Pat’s. I may be a bit of a prude, but I suspect that if anyone is in a bar at 11:59 on an weekday, they’re not waiting on the holiday to start drinking. I mean, I get that it’s a big drinking day but I think there’s time enough to not have to be up to the minute.
Also, please don’t yell “wooooooooooo” right outside my apartment. What? You’ll yell “woooooooooo” wherever you damn well please? OK.
Of course, my sympathies go to the Reagan family on the death of their matriarch, Nancy. But as the national media gears up for another round of fawning eulogies and bullshit mythologizing, I’m reminded of the post I wrote 12 years ago on the death of her husband.