I prefer to remember the times I spend alive and awake

I’ve been hearing lately that the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving is the booziest night of the year.  That seemed really odd to me (isn’t New Year’s Eve the booziest?), and maybe it’s not empirically true (is that a thing you can say?), but apparently, it’s enough of a thing to have its own rather charming really off-putting name: Blackout Wednesday.

John and I are about to brave the wilds of downtown Annapolis to find dinner.  Wish us luck dodging the overeager drinkers!  (It’s early yet – we’re probably safe.)