I have a vision of a Europe united under bad music and too much liquor. That’s what happened last night in Rentukka, and I believe it just might be the key to a better tomorrow. In other words, I spent the night dancing to the most horrible tunes of the 1990’s. In my friends words, I forbid you to dance to this song, spoken out loud when Tom Jones’ Sex bomb was playing. The way I see it is that if I’m on the dancefloor when Macarena is blasting out of the loudspeakers, there’s really nothing left to lose.

That night I bid farewell to all but one of my exchange student buddies and dancing to silly Eurodisco was probably the best way to alleviate the sting of separation. ’Tis been a funny old spring, and I still rate my first chance meeting with the guys the best thing to have happene all year.

At least now I’ve got someone to fall back on if I ever get lost in the UK, Germany or Estonia. Could’ve been worse, could’ve been much worse.