Thanks, gents, but no cake for me today. I'm going down to New Trier for St. Michaels sausage dinner. You could call it the German Catholic version of lutefisk. They will tap a keg in the church basement and have the Vikings game on.
I guess I won't ride the motorbike, as winter has settled in early. Later on, there will be a cigar and some rye whisky on the menu.
7:16 p.m.
p.s. It all happened just as envisioned.