I spent New Year’s Eve with a buddy from college. We weren’t super close while enrolled, but we knew each other. He was a little older and I had a bad reputation. We somehow ended up in the Twin Cities afterwards and became good friends. I sang and played at his wedding, we recorded music together and played terrible golf at a nine-hole course. He’s a genius or something — understands how things work and can replicate that sense of things in craftwork, computation, and the fine arts. He photographed and designed my Patheos banner. If I ever start a creative collective, he’d probably be my first choice. I was going to go and hang out for a while and come back later that night, but my wife didn’t want me driving while the drunks were commuting. So I took some pajamas. I wore them under my clothes. It gets cold up here. He bought some ginger beers and made a spiced wine reduction that took some getting used to. I brought tobacco and papers. In the morning, he made a delicious breakfast — crêpes included — and also mixed together a natural remedy for my ailing hands. I just got back from a hockey game.