Bachelor Party, Norse Style.

I actually don't remember much of it. Not because I drank all that much. Just that there wasn't a lot to remember. I was mostly lost in thought and a little on guard the whole time.

We took in the Cubs game. They lost. No surprise there.

When I'd mentioned to Aisling back in Berkeley that we were going to watch the Chicago Cubs play, she blurted out "Oh! That's the team that actually makes the sorry Houston Astros look GOOD by comparison, right?!?"

I chuckled nervously and looked around the room for Gunnar, who I caught glaring at the both of us. He balled his fist and made a punching motion, catching it in his other open hand.

Whaddya know, Aisling was right. Astros actually won one on Wrigley Field that night. Nate was clapping Gunnar in the back, who was crying into his beer a little..."Tough break, man...I thought for sure your boys were gonna rally in the 7th!! That triple play was BALLS, man...that ump should be fired!"

Jack was playing with his smart phone and looked up and announced to me..."Hey, Brendan...Red Socks beat the Yankees on the road."

I did a little fist pump. I can't help but cheer for Boston teams. Still a lot of Irish on them, even in this day and age. Lots of Irish (well, Irish-Americans, anyway) in the stands at their home games, too.

We went to some obscure nightclub way out on the edge of town that was a little surreal and very Norse themed. I jokingly asked if they had Mead for sale and was handed a brimming mug of the stuff before I could refuse it. I choked it down then ordered a respectable beer...to my delight they had not only Guinness but Harp and even Beamish on tap...but when I found they had Killkenny on tap, that was pure heaven...Killkenny is an Irish red ale. Killians Red, the American brew, is a pale imitator, but Killkeny, from Ireland, is the real deal. I think I even had a few Belhaven Scottish Ales for variety. I got pleasantly intoxicated but still (mostly) in command of my faculties. Gunnar looked over with mock disapproval and asked incredulously "...what? Celtic-only beer night?"

"Something like that.", I said "...helps wash away the memory of that gawds-awful Mead you folks quaff by the stein..."

Jack went off with some scantily clad woman but came back alone...and didn't want to talk about it. "Wasn't a dude, was she?", I asked. Never can tell with these Greek types. "Naw, just a little...misunderstanding. It's cool.", Jack said, nursing his next beer.

Nate and Gunnar seemed to be having the best time, trading jokes, clapping each other on the back, etc. Makes sense, those guys go back further than with Jack or me both.