All about that sheepskin

A few weeks ago my wife did a favor for a colleague. I'd tell you what that favor was, that is if I could remember. But like many husbands I only retain 10% of what she tells me.

5% if I've been taking my cough medicine.

In any case, the favor was returned when that colleague gave my wife a bottle of G.H. Mumm Brut Cordon Rouge champagne, which one reviewer on Vivino described as...

"Crisp citrus acidity and bountiful firm bubbles with good length."

If I've said that once, I've said it a thousand times.

This week we have good reason to pop that sucker.

Not because the 2nd proof of my new book came in and it is almost ready for release.

Not because my white trash neighbor seems to be inching closer and closer to self-destruction.

And not because my dance card has been filled to the brim with well-paying clients.

The reason for celebration is simple -- we are over the hump.

Thanks to the rigging of the system, we have two daughters attending out of state colleges. Scholastically speaking, they were good enough for the state of Washington and the state of Colorado but somehow not good enough for the state of California.

Out of state tuition is almost double that of in state tuition. I could cry Foul or Bullshit or "Attica!" but I'd be wasting my breath.

Last week I made the payment for my first daughter's first semester. I don't need to get into the numbers or show you the picture of the Bentley I could be driving, suffice to say that we have passed the halfway point.

It's all gravy and depleted IRA accounts from here on out.

Of course my wife doesn't drink champagne, and unless one of you want to come over,  it means I'll be drinking it all by myself.

Might be a good way to wash down the prescription cough medicine.

Woo-hoo!