One year ago I had a massive hangover and a plane to catch. Twenty-four hours later I was dashing around London on an empty stomach looking for shoes and planning travel arrangements for a train, ferry and taxi that would land me in Normandy on June 4.
To celebrate this momentous day I got offered a job that I refused, visited some sites from the “Jersey Trilogy,” drove along the beach, saw the Stone Pony in Asbury Park and paid a late afternoon visit to Monmouth Battlefield.
I do not know if I have another free calendar day to devote to commemoration. Amongst days like March 17, June 6, September 17, December 13 and all the rest, June 2d as a personal holiday seems pretty pitiful. I suppose it will all depend on what the future brings. If there’s un-ending adventure and excitement like there has been for the past three hundred sixty-five I’ll be content with what the future present brings. Otherwise, June 2d may have to be a lifelong commemoration.
Hopefully the beer will be colder.
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