Ace Reporter—Tommy C
I had my socks “blown off!” It was phenomenal! My guess is that about 30 people were there! Hostess with the most-est, Milanne B, Nan S, Jeffrey, Linda P, Dan B and his wife Mel, Johnny Boy, Dawn P, Pat S and Eric Bvisiting from Arkansas, Peggy R, Nancy C, Barbara S, Pat Sullivan’s sister, former PTC member Kathy E, me (Ace Reporter Tommy) and assorted Tall Club Wannabe’s like Dave S, Gary, Joe and John P, Linda C, Marty, Dwayne, Liz, Pat Sullivan’s daughter Shannon, who was in town from Minneapolis for a family visit, Walter, and Dan were all in attendance. I’m sure I left some people out (my apologies). The place was totally bopping! I chastised several members for not coming to past Tall Club Activities shame on them). My old Tall Club buddy Bob H. wasn’t there. Apparently, the only time I see him is at the Tall Club Weekend, guarding the door. He’s probably at Lynfred Winery sniffing corks again!
I could tell when I arrived, that some type of great gathering in Oak Park was taking place because there were so many cars parked in front of Milanne’s house. I had to park half a block away! It was sunny when this shindig started around 2:00 pm. It was about 30 degrees F. The “Beer Fairy” had visited this place prior to my visit judging by the number of beer bottles stuck in the snowdrift to keep them cold. Things got a lot cooler when the sun went down.
I tried to pin down where Pat S actually lives, which ends up being a pervasive question. The more Pat told me about all the houses she currently resides in, the more confused I got. Pat’s daughter, Shannon is still happily married after six months. I asked her if she was going for the world record in the lengthy marriage record book. Eric B is really proud of his new grandson. He said, “when he loads up his diaper, I don’t have to change it, I just hand him over to my son or his girlfriend and they take care of it, grandchildren are great!”
My sister Linda and I talked about our trip to Florida; tales of frozen Iguana’s falling out of the trees, and the giant boa constrictors and alligators now terrorizing the state, eating dogs and small children.
Meanwhile, the food at this event was terrific. There was so much to eat. I wish I could’ve eaten like the Romans with their vomitoriums so I could empty my stomach and then start all over again. If I took one bite of every dish that was there, I would have exploded! Dave S did a masterful job with the grill. He did very well keeping pace with our demands for delicious sausage and red hots. Fortunately, his pants didn’t start on fire. Liz got a standing ovation for her chocolate creme mint lasagna, a delectable mouth-watering treat. She refused to take a bow.
Johnny Boy doesn’t sound very excited about remaining the President even though the rest of us would listen to his incoherent ramblings about increasing membership at our monthly meetings. I asked Nan and Peggy (on separate occasions) if they’d be interested in running for President. They both declined by telling me to “jump into a lake”. Nix on that idea. If Johnny quotes, guess where that leaves me, the VP?
Inside the garage, we were imbibing in liquor while telling jokes and talking about “the continuing “Butt-weiser flag saga.” I gave these magnificent flags to Dave Sandborn and Johnny Aylward (over a year ago). None of the flags were present at the picnic because they were all attached to various yachts. For some reason, Milanne refuses to ride on Dave’s and her yacht while flying that commemorative flag and she’s the Captain!
I guess my jokes were pretty lame, probably and I wasn’t drunk, but because I was inebriated by joke-telling time. Hanging out in the garage with a huge booze collection and drinking shots was quite challenging to remain standing due to all the drinking of celebratory shots.
There is some interest in upcoming Summer bike rides now that COVID may be ending. I will probably still be the chief honker at such an event if it were held, due to my massive bicycle horn collection (I can’t fit anymore on my handlebars, my bike is now totally “honkified.”) Johnny was taking RSVP’s for his upcoming “not to be missed,” Saint Patrick’s Day Parade event. Dollar Dave didn’t show up (a fellow yachtsman). Johnny thought he’s probably in “Dutch,” with his wife about putting roadkill he picked up in their refrigerator (to be used for meat at a later date). I told Marty that if he was a little older we would’ve gone to reform school together. Marty replied, ”only if it was a Union Reform School.” I asked Barbara why she wasn’t wearing a mask, and she told me that “COVID is ending” and she’d rather use a hanky if she has to sneeze from now on.
Jeffrey filled up his SUV gas tank to the tune of $85, which made him mad, so he kicked his SUV, breaking his foot. Now he walks around like Hop-a-long Cassidy. We also played musical chairs in an attempt to stay away from the smoke the two fires were spewing; everyone pretty much smelled like a cheap cigar from sitting around the fires. Johnny said, “I can now smoke cigars at the Winter Picnic in complete comfort because we now all smell the same.”