Dinner at the Lobster House in Cape May. Actually, it wasn't at the Lobster House but on the schooner American moored to the dock behind it. And it wasn't a proper dinner. It was martinis with platter after platter of oysters Rockefeller and clams casino.
The uncreated conscience of my race will just have to wait unforged until I get back from vacation.
Above: Marianne, also suffering.