Go here to read last year's over-researched post on this Norwegian high holiday.
Normally I wear something red on Syttende Mai. Today I'm head-to-toe in fetching shades of gray. But I'm wearing a new shirt with a collar that seems to have been sewn on with sharpened fishing wire, so a big chunk of my neck is turning all red in a scratchy, scabby kind of way. So there's that.
Of course, my true Norwegian nature would have me suffering in stoic silence. But instead I'm whining about it here like Tom DeLay with no homos to shoot.
Anyway, despite my abject failure as a son of Norway, I hope all of you have a