I love Fridays.

I know I am not alone in this sentiment, but I really love Fridays. Ever since my son went off to college in 2007, Friday has been my standing date night with Peggy. Since the first seven years of Friday occurred when we were living in Texas, those Fridays pretty consistently involved two things, chips and salsa and margaritas.

Now, I know what the non-Texans in the audience are thinking. “That’s three things,” they will say. And the Texans will laugh. Chips and salsa are not two things in Texas, they are one thing, joined in the holiest of matrimony. Perhaps you can have one without the other, but why?

Friday means Mexican food, a frozen margarita (no salt — sorry), and conversation that lasts as long as we want it to. And typically then we go sit on the back porch around the firepit and hang out as long as we want to. Because it’s Friday and we can.

This has been our utopia for the past ten years. Even when we are traveling we try to find a Mexican place that will have the essentials and not screw it up too bad. When we went to Santorini for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, we found the one place on the island that served Mexican food and made frozen margaritas. It was called Senor Zorba’s, and the name alone would have made us forgive them for any shortcomings. But seriously, if you’re drinking a frozen margarita on a Greek island what possible shortcomings could there be?!

Tonight was no different. The Mexican food in Baton Rouge is not too bad, and the margaritas are excellent. The weather is cool and perfect on the back porch and the firepit looks beautiful.

If this is life at 54 I have no complaints whatsoever. If this is still my life at 74 I will count myself as the luckiest man ever.

Long live Friday!