Dreams made flesh

I'm listening to Jason Bentley on the web and he keeps saying my name in thatvelvet voice of his.

Because it's the season, I was thinking about the best work-sponsered holiday party I've been to. I decided that it was way back in the late eighties when I was in high school and doing paste-up at the local newspaper. Super-rad job.

The party was at the publisher's fancy house and included a santa, an open bar, and The Doobie Brothers on the stereo. I thought it would be yawner, all those adults, but it turns out that old people (because all the writers and editors seemed old to me at the time) do the same things as the cool-kids did at parties: get drunk, get naked and get in the hot tub.