It’s National Mint Julep Day, and let’s be honest, they aren’t just for Derby weekend. Mint juleps deserve a place at the summer table right next to cold beer and grilled bratwursts.
May 2025 came in like a lion and is heading out like a slightly hungover jazz singer. We saw the world shift in every direction: politics, conflict, markets. South Side’s own Father Bobby Prevost became Pope Leo XIV, proving you can take the boy out of Chicago and can end up in Vatican City. George Wendt finally heard his last call, and Warren Buffett is packing up his briefcase for the last time.
School’s out, the pools are open, and the Summer of 2025 has officially kicked off. If I’m lucky, I’ve got about 25 more summers left in the tank. That number doesn’t scare me, but it does remind me to soak it in. Bryan Adams ought to write a song about the Summer of ‘25 before it slips away in a sun-drenched blur.
Today offers 15 hours of daylight... a far cry from those endless January nights. As May winds down, I’m headed into the weekend with a cup of coffee in one hand, a crawfish in the other, and a rugby ball under a scrum of big boys. Crawfish Fest at Shanahan's, their 35th annual and Chicago Hounds against NOLA Gold Rugby Saturday night.
Go find something astonishing.
Be happy.
June is waiting.
