For the first time in I don’t know how long, a decade or two, I don’t have to drive anywhere on New Years Eve. No, I get to walk next door. Tonight I get to act like a real writer. I know hundreds of dirty limericks. OK, I don’t, but I have a big bottle of pomegranate rum–in a Martinelli’s apple juice bottle–in front of me. Rum in an apple juice bottle…life keeps getting more and more 1930’s. Let us now praise famous men.