

At the age of 73, Monty could still drink me (at the age of 23) under the table. We went to Chicago where, at 4 in the morning, we headed back to the hotel. I thought, hoped, prayed that we were going to sleep, but instead stopped off, at Monty's insistence, in the hotel bar for a pernod nightcap. Funnily enough, it's a similar story for his 80th birthday.
