Report from the Peanut Gallery
Went to my wife's work-holiday party at a dinner-theatre on the east side of Columbus.
The food was delicious. And free. And the alcohol was free - as much as you could drink. I got a rare whiskey on the rocks - a double shot of Maker's Mark. And also an Amber Bock (they had no Guinness or dark beers) because: "I'm a double-fisted drinker when the drinks are free." (Which is a corollary to the famous saying "if it's free, it's for me!")
I must say the hug thing has *really* caught on. I'm always taken aback when some new cultural practice comes about without my knowing anything about it. I expect new things with kids and 20-somethings, but it's disconcerting when the middle-aged have glommed on to a new practice and I had missed the memo. It makes me wonder what else have I missed the memo on.
So back to the hug - two really tight bear hugs from the secretary of my wife's bosses' boss. I don't know her from Adam (or should I say 'from Eve') having met her not two or three times over Steph's career and having said all of three sentences to her. But it seems it seems the new social lubricant is the extravagant hug, making any awkwardness go away. Seems to work reasonably well.