Calling an End To the Week With Fish-n-Chips, A Friday Night Ritual That Seems To Be Timeless (and Surreal)

There's a Friday night ritual that has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, and that is the habit of Fish Fry Fridays. I guess it connects to the Catholic influence of Central New York, and it is one that was carried forward to my Louisville life, where most Fridays were spent at the Irish Rover.

Last night, I met friends at the Windmill in Stratford and I decided I'd do fish-n-chips for ol' times sake, thinking fondly on Fridays with my friends in Kentucky and even more profoundly of picking up Fish in Syracuse to reunite with my parents, sisters and their families. The American Legion in Cicero added a whole other layer to the memories.

Of course, Casey got into old VHS tapes and started sending me videos I used to shoot for her birthday: outrageous, youthful, and totally insane. I sort of remember making them to relieve stress, but seeing them, I was like, "Man, I could never be elected President."

It is surreal to see videos that you didn't really know existed (me with long hair and foolishness) and I went to bed feeling really old and freaked out by time (Holy incriminating, Bat Man).

And now I have to deal with a stomach ache from eating the fish. But, man, last night's dinner was good. Now it's time to problem solve and get things done. Zoom. Just like that and you realize how much of the universe has changed.