There I was, sitting at the brass-railed open bar with a posh knot of gents in blazers and bowties, jawboning the culture wars. By the third Tanqueray and tonic, a warm haze of nostalgia had swept me away. Drinking top-shelf gin on somebody else’s dime and discussing the Great Ideas stripped off ten years and twenty pounds… I felt like an undergrad again. I’d met these fine fellows through a highbrow conservative journal, and for hours felt right at home,... Read more