A commoner drinks (and dines) at Mickey’s Tavern, Madison, Wis.

While I was working in Madison, Wis., last fall, I was fortunate to discover quite a few great old-fashioned neighborhood taverns and dives.  But in the case of Mickey’s Tavern in particular, I sought it out based on a recommendation from my future wife.  As fate would have it, Punky knew one of the bartenders who worked there, and from all accounts she felt Mickey’s would be my kind of place.  As usual, she was right.

Scenes from the Wurst. Wedding. Ever.

My few faithful followers have probably noticed a scarcity of blog posts in recent months (with the most recent exception of last month’s rant against crappy airline service).  The good news (depending on your point of view, I suppose) is my blogging days are far from over.  On the contrary, I’ve been hoarding ideas for future posts over the past several months.  I’ve simply been a little busy and preoccupied with planning a far more important chapter in my life.  

Yes, as evidence that one should never say never again, The April and I got married.  And, indicative of our collectively warped sense of humor -- as well as a play on our last names -- we dubbed it the Wurst Wedding Ever.