A calendar never tells you the good stuff. There could be acres of space in the little blocks on the pages and the Fourth of July in Swaziland will be listed but never Prince Spaghetti Day in Boston's North End.
We get all the important stuff from the Internet, fast, fresh and occasionally very foolish but still sporadically factual. Which is how I know where I'm going to work to be later today, catching the breeze off the Norwich Harbor while nibbling a sugar cone filled with ice cream covered in sprinkles at the Friendly's Scoop Shack.
Today, says the Internet, is National Ice Cream Day and it's because we have and celebrate holidays like this, Al-Qaeda, ISIL, Boko Haram and your evil (but very musical) cousin, Procol, and all you other nit-wit wackadoodle crazies, that you will never win. With my apologies to Ben Franklin, ice cream is proof God loves us and wants us to be happy.
If you're in New London, Connecticut and don't go to Berry's Ice Cream and Candy Bar, LLC, you have wasted a day and will get no pity from me at all. Actually I'll be fine if you skip both places. More for me; a lot more for me. Happy National Ice Cream Day!