Tonight we went down to the terrace to see Yid Vicious, Madison's punk Klezmer band, whose Irish fiddler, Daithi Wolfe, is one of my sweetheart's old running buddies.

It was a perfect night to be by the lake, at least once the sun had gone down. It was quite charming to watch all the dancers - who I am sure all thought they'd have to wait for the next bar mitzvah before they could do those line dances - stepping in time to Yiddish folk music.

And, oh yeah, brats for supper - somehow, Mark's was a lot better browned than mine, but they were tasty brats (not sure what brand the Union uses), and even though there wasn't any horseradish, there was a good condiment assortment - spicey brown mustard, sweet pickle relish, and even BBQ sauce and sauerkraut, for the County Stadium (oh, er umm, I guess that's Milller Park, now) bratwurst.

As we left, with an almost full moon in the deep blue sky, and a soft breeze blowing by our faces, two thoughts filled up my mind: a throw away remark Lyle Lovett had made on Sunday night at Overture Hall - "we love coming here in summer - we understand why you put up with those Wisconsin winters, when we come here in summer", and Man, those Union chairs are hard.