photo by Blandy Snorhal

Hopped up on the Giggle Water.

As one by one my friends leave alcohol behind for the world of nuts, mashed yeast and carrot juice, it falls upon yours truly to ensure that local ale producers remain able to meet their financial bottom line. In other words, I don't remember the above photograph being taken last evening.

Yesterday began with a mid-afternoon harbour cruise to Shelbyville to look for previously worn dress shirts that fulfill the rigid requirements of "Business Casual". Along with said shirt was found two previously worn slacks of varying shades of brown, a large 4-month day planner on which I can record my busy schedule with a marker, and a tie for which I may or may not have paid for.

As I tend to enjoy hosting parties during which I reveal things to my guests, the highlight of last night's pre-gig event was the opening of a sealed envelope containing my RCMP criminal background check. Luckily I assumed correctly that for something to show up on my permanent record would involve some process that would not be easily forgotten. So, while I would be lying to admit I have not behaved in ways that would cause a checkmark to be made in the box beside "There may or may not be a criminal record in existence", I have until this point in my life at least, firmly remained in the box indicating that "there are no Adult Criminal Convictions as disclosed by the National Police Information Centre computer search."

As for the show, the photo says it all. I was on a toot and obviously quite zozzled, being hopped up on the giggle water by the time I arrived. I was, if you don't mind my saying, putting on the ritz. Hip to the jive in my new bow-tie and previously worn dress shirt, I was a floor-flushing heeler. The crowd was mixed, with a face stretcher or two amongst the skirts, but that didn't matter since the Bank was closed months ago. All in all it was quite a copacetic time, perhaps a little too copacetic. Today, you can call me dewdropper, daddy-o.