Image via WikipediaI'm an old man. I hit the big 3-0 last Friday, and celebrated with the wife and some friends in Chicago. I wish I could say it was like the old days, but 1) I can't remember a lot of the old days and 2) lately I feel more old than old school. It was good times though. We hung out with the Mizzi at a punk rock bar on the north side called Delilah's. Any place that has Bad Religion on the jukebox and Maker's Mark on special is just fine with me. We really should have stayed longer, but like the old-timer I am, I did the responsible thing and stayed sober so I could drive to the hotel. Five years ago I would have gotten drunk, passed out on Mizzi's floor instead. I tell myself it's better this way: no hangover, no bar fights, no embarrassing stories about me that start "so Joe was drinking bourbon straight out of the bottle one night..." I tell myself it's better, but it's not. It's less fun. So yeah, Friday night was uneventful. Dinner at a fancy bistro, beer at the Mizzi place, bourbon at the bar, then off to the Holiday ...