guys night
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
I had dinner and drinks with my old boss from EDS, who's now at a firm that makes software that my employer sells.
He and I and another of his current colleagues, with whom I'd met recently before cycling in the rain for more than fifteen kilometers, chatted about work and wives and children and -- for two of us, anyway, how we'd never regained interest in professional hockey since the strike. Guy stuff to be sure. But being good dads we all three of us were making for home before nine. It's sure not 1996 any more!