A Bohemian Birthday

Or: Adventures at a Billionaire Sleep-Away Camp

Foie gras cookies

I hadn’t fully recovered from the shock of waking up to a naked Clint Eastwood when all those Republican governors started singing “Happy Birthday” to me.

I was spending the better part of July as head waiter and bartender to a small group of rich, white Conservative men up in the redwood forests of the Russian River at a secretive litt…