September's Magic... Splendiferous!

Well as my beard grows and the day shortens, the Season is still sneaking thru September. Yes, it's true, in anticipation of a successful Deer Hunt, I usually do grow a beard. It's not that I'm particularly superstitious, but every time I have harvested a deer, I also have sported some facial hair. The true reason for this is a combination of just plain lazy, combined with an element of disguise. You see, if I wear a beard then the deer won't recognize me. They still point and laugh, but they don't know it's me.

Another wonderful aspect of this fair and lovely month is the venerated tradition that is College Football. To my foreign readers I must say now that I use the term Football in the Stateside sense of the word, and not in your Footy meaning. I intend no disrespect for your Footy, and do enjoy watching a good match. But, as a red blooded Uhmerrycan, there is no rival to College Football! Oh sure, you can go on about the NFL, and the level of play in the Big Show... but I, and many tens of other loyal Northern Michiganders, frankly wouldn't give a spit for those over paid, whiny, petulant babies. That might be because, unlike Wisconsin and Minnesota, we really don't have much of a pro team to follow here in Michigan. Point of fact, it wasn't that many years ago when the Lions lost each and every game during the season. I prefer to think that it is because we Northern 'Ganders are a much more pure, and therefore honest folk. And so we eschew too much professional success of anything. I assure you that Gordon Gecko could never have been a Northerner!

But as the cider mills open their doors in the morning for warm apple cider, and fresh donuts, and as sure as the Monarch butterflies have already beat their tiny wings away, we live for College Football! These young men are not in it for the money to be made, and most of them won't be seen in the Pro's. No sir, these student athletes play for the pure passion of the sport! And yes, that's my own, rather naive outlook, but then this my blog, and those are my opinions.

Saturday is Game Day, and you dress in your finest school of choice colors. Including skivvies and socks. Women who normally will be seen in a Sunday morning classroom teaching our children about Moses, or the Golden Rule and the like, will don panties emblazoned with their favorite mascot, and warpaint that would surely frighten Sitting Bull.  A few years the kids gave me a Big Ten t shirt as gift (probably Father's Day, since I no longer hafta wear a tie to work) and yes, we are a Big Ten family. Big Ten being one of several College Football leagues around the country, and of course we think the best. But this family is truly a Big Ten family, and we have connections to both teams in Michigan, as well as teams in Ohio, Illinois, Wisconsin, and Indiana. You could say that Saturdays in our family can get rather competitive! The bets usually will involve such massive amounts as loser buys winner dinner and the like. After all, it wouldn't do to actually be so crass as to bet money on a game!

So yes, prepping for the coming Deer Season (which typically includes moving a Game Camera around to see when and where the varmints could be had) and rooting for your fave College Football team, yes, those truly are what stirs the passions of us in the North. Why just looking at  a picture of a fine buck a mere 25 yards away from your favorite blind has been known to make some otherwise taciturn folk weep with joy as this year, yes, this year he knows he'll finally bag the buck. And when the weekend rolls off another dreary Friday, then everyone cheers up as they just know in their of heart of hearts, that this week, oh yes this week, our team will be prevail against the Goliath of an opponent that we have no idea why we are playing? So we drink some beer, and snack on some munchies, and wear our school colors, and dream of deer, and then for a moment, just one small, bright moment of time, we are truly ecstatic in our hearts, and we forget to be dour, and we yell like we were really there in the stands... so for a brief time we are transported away, back to a gentler time, or just a different place. But time and a place where it doesn't matter that my beard is white (?!), and that you're overweight, and the car needs a repair, and so does the fence. For one afternoon, we all come together and share in our mutual victories and defeats, and that, my friends, is the true magic of College Football!

Suddenly September!

Yes, it's true! Suddenly it's September, and the air is fresher, the grass greener, and we're back to wearing jeans instead of shorts. Our days are a bit shorter to go along with the much more pleasant temps, and generally everybody up here is happier as a result.

You see, we rather tend to not like really beautiful weather. Especially days, or even weeks of it! All those hot, sunny days just mean that something bad is likely to happen because we're enjoying ourselves too much. Something bad can usually be translated as Blizzards, Ice Storms and Power Failures. Now those we cheerfully endure because we know that something better is coming. It's not easy living up here.

But living at the 45th Parallel does have some advantages. One of the more pleasant activities that we do to ward off the evil spirits of melancholy and despair (which really only serve to remind us of our true plight as humans) is the venerated tradition of Date Night.  My WonderLuv Wife, Barb, suggested that we go to a nightclub that featured dinner and dancing just a couple of weeks past. So we actually do a "dress up" date, and trundle up to the big city. Traverse City is an actual city, but nearly as large as they would have you believe. None the less, to Stephens Place Night Club we trod, and we were delighted! From being greeted at the door by John (everybody's favorite old, Italian uncle) to the wonderful server, Chris (she knew all about the place and it's history), including Chef Harry (who came out and had a lovely chat with us, explaining how he created such mouth watering dishes without fat, or butter) all the way thru to the entertainment of Doc Woodward who tickled the ivories at just the right volume, this date night was a sterling success!

Go ahead and click on the link above, but it really doesn't do the place justice! Barb and I were treated to some of the best food we'd happily noshed on in an age. There was no rushing thru dinner just to start tapping out toes either. Chris the cute waitress simply would bring out each wave of our Topas for Two (we both highly recommend) while allowing us to have a turn on the dance floor in between. No hurrying, just a relaxing evening being truly pampered. Also, I must give kudos to the bartender (sorry, I never got his name) who serves an ice cold Martini, straight up, and made with perfection! I am rather a Martini snob, and his were the equal of my own. No higher compliment can I give.

And yes, Doc Woodard, in between sets would come and sit and gab with us as well. He would ask about our musical preferences, and could play almost anything from the 50's to the 80's. (Except for "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" -Wha?). Barb occasionally labors under the misguided delusion that she can't dance. Oh contraire, my darling! You can, and you will... and you will enjoy it a well. She actually moves rather well on the floor, all I need to do was supply a bit of a lead, and off we went to traverse the white pines floor, and swaying in time to the beat. At first, we were the only couple there, but soon enough we were joined by another couple, then more people started drifting in. By far, the couple with the most polish, and that seemed to just flow together naturally as they would Tango to almost any song was a nice surprise. Seems the gentleman in question was completely vision impaired! Watching the two of them was a treat for our vision, I assure you!

The genuine warmth of all who worked there was a charm. At one point, as I was heading out for a breath of fresh air, I opened the door for a man who entering and  pushing a wheelchair occupied by his handicapped son, with wife (dressed to the nines) in tow. As Barb and I finally were leaving, he approached us and introduced himself as the owner, and thanked us for coming. What a delightful evening! We will be back, and next time we'll bring friends. And as for the Cosmic Balance of enjoying ourselves too much, later that week we had a Power Failure, so it all works out in the end... 

As a small post script to this adventure, today when I started writing this blog a gentle soaking rain was blessing my lawn. Soon enough, as I was paying more attention to the words on my screen, and not to the pretty twinkling lights on my Satellite modem,  yes, my ISP was out! So you see, Life does balance out rather nicely! 

Oh, and the pictures of the Pileated Woodpecker were taken from my deck this morning. He's a regular customer at our fine eatery!

Can You Hear It?

Shhhh... listen very closely.... can you hear it yet? There, ever so faintly, like the fog creeping in on kitty cat paws, it's the end of Summer. Oh yes, Miss Autumn is approaching, inching closer by the not-as-beastly-hot days and cooler nights. Not that Old Man Summer is completely gone yet, but his gnarled grip is loosening like a sailor's hand on the rope when his ship comes to dock.

Right now my lawn is drinking up a much needed gentle rain, and the air is a cool 75 degrees. Yes, cool compared to what it's been here of late. All of us in the Hundred Acre Woods By The Inland Sea agree that this has been the swelteringest Summer ever! Due to our Northern proscriptions of living, we are really constitutionally unable to handle many days above 80 degrees. (ok, for you fans that are metricificated, 82F = 28C, take it from there...) My lovely, and loved, and loving wife turns the most endearing shade of corpulent green after a couple of "daze" in the heat. As for me, my usually adroit, and sometimes clever, articulation rapidly degrades to that of a snarling animal caught in a trap, that is in the process of chewing it's own leg off. Really, we do much better with cold than heat out there.

As loyal Northern Michiganders, we eschew certain modern contrivances, such as central air conditioning, in our homes. Our pioneering spirit barely allows the use of indoor plumbing (only for sanitary reasons, not because we enjoy it) and we'll probably be asked to leave the neighborhood when the scandal of having a bedroom ac unit is discovered. At the very least we should be shunned by all polite, and sweaty, company as befits our particular sin. But we have also discovered that now, in our slightly-after-prime years, if we don't sleep well then we function at a level comparable to, at best, an amoebae.

Another portent from the Autumnal Goddess is the behavior of our favorite bird species of all, the charming and vociferous Hummingbird! When they first arrive in late Spring, cheerfully announcing their presence by flying right to where uh hum the feeders are supposed to be, our little ADHD driven buddies happily consume the nectar we provide. As the season progresses, and more flowers bloom, our hovering hummers tend to be rather more picky customers at the feeders. Just a week ago you would see a single male or female perch on the little feeder and sip quietly and contentedly. But now, they greedily perform acrobatic dog fights worthy of Snoopy and the Red Baron!  With the shift in time, each hummer has his, or her, own fave spot, and woe to the intruder that thinks to steal that sweet solution of life. And especially just before a storm, the antics really escalate! We have espied as many as seven hummers all juking and dodging each other just to make sure that someone else doesn't get "my" spot!

Other changes include watching the juvenile male Cardinal get his sinister, black mask and proud, red chest. Now if only his wings would turn all the way from brown, he would have it made. Also our beloved family of Rose Breasted Grosbeaks are no where in sight? Nor are the sporty Gold Finch family much evident now. Oh, and the In Laws have come and gone, another sure sign that Autumn is approaching. Our trees are just starting contemplate turning a new leaf, and the corn is sweet. 


So listen very carefully... hear it? Our delicious planet is grooving around the Sun, and Life once again goes thru the complete cycle. How we love each other is truly the sweet part of Autumn.

 Oh, the sunset picture is one I took, the top bit of art is from the Interwebby, and the three wonderful Hummingbird shots are from my dear friend Diane Land Cooper. She's a treasure!

Dancing and Dipping...

It was a marvelous, magical evening in the Undred Acre Woods By The Inland Sea this Saturday past. Two of our nephews were coming up to camp, and brought some girlfriends and other buddies. The nephews enjoy coming up here to hunt, camp, and just get away from their daily stress. Steve and Edward are both brothers and friends, and a couple of wonderful young men as well. Whenever they come up, they always think to invite us along, no matter the events. When some of your family are also your friends, it makes for a great relationship!

Steven Claus

This weekend adventure saw Edward flying solo, and Steve with his girlfriend, Tiffany, and her BFF Casey with hubby Dave. What a fun crew to hang with! We declined the invite to go tubing down the river, but did meet up with them for dinner. Rosie's Place is an unassuming Northern Michigan eatery of the finest kind. Knotty Pine walls with mirrors that proclaim the bestest ever NASCAR drivers, and the obligatory beer posters complete the decor. The service is only moderately slow, but always friendly, and the food is quite tasty. One of the many reason reasons why we enjoy Rosie's is their typical "Up North" portion control of the foods. In other words, if you don't take home some for another complete meal, the portions are way too small! Any wonder why I'm so overweight then?

Rosie's is well known for making a great pizza, and walloping huge wet burritos, but this night was Prime Rib night! Oh yeah... nothing like a huge hunk of cow on my plate to me smile! As we tuck into our food, amidst some pitchers of beer, and laughter about the day's adventures, it was a very enjoyable time. And then the magic begun...

Edward Ho Ho Ho!

There is a Dance Stage at one end of the room, complte with a DJ setup. Happily it wasn't Karaoke Knight (for which we were extremely grateful), but it time to trip the light fantastic for a bit. At first Mr DJ played some Hip Hop stuff, and Tiffany and Casey stumbled a bit thru a couple of songs. Mr. DJ, however, wisely switched to some more Classic Rock., and I got up to join the girls. So yup, me and two beautiful babes on the Dance Floor, how awesome is that? Mr DJ even has special effects and a light show to make the mood more conducive to moving your bod. And the aforementioned spin master had the very good sense to not blast our ears as if we were at a concert. Sure Rock is meant to be played loud, but I don't need my ears to bleed afterward.

After the three of stumbles thru some more songs, and some more beer, we took a short break, to drink more beer. *chuckle* Then the magic truly was kicked up a notch as the music became perfect for some nice slow dancing... I grab Barb by the hand and she begins to protest that she doesn't know how... pwah! Hey, I'm Old School, and you'll be just fine my dear... and she was! We must have been on that floor for another hour or so... not really sure who else was, or wasn't with us... just Barb and I, bodies next to each other, swaying in the breeze, or I would gently guide her thru a few easy and fun steps... just looking into her eyes, and my heart melting all over again.. yes, this *is* magic my friends!

But soon enuff we both have to pay homage to our bladders, and then drink more beer... well, time to wrap up a lovely evening with old, and new friends, and homewards we head. When we get there, Barb announces that she is gonna get us some towels, and we're going swimming! It was well past dark, and quite warm and balmy out, so how could I resist? So quickly down to our beach, shuck off the clothes, (well completely off for me, Barb stayed in skivvies n bra) and into the warm, inviting water. Just as we start to splash a bit, and feel like teenagers at the prom, I spot some headlights coming down our drive! Ack! "Barb, headlights!!" I blurt out as I try to scramble back towards to shore in a soon to be thwarted attempt to get my clothes. "It's ok, it's the nephews and their friends" she quickly retorts. "You'll be fine. Besides, you're Old School, remember?" this as she smiles and starts to laugh a bit.

I breathe a sigh of relief, then decide what the heck? There's no Moon out, and we are having fun after all. Sure enough, soon there a splashing party of naked and mostly naked bodies in the water, all enjoying themselves merrily. So I guess you say that we all truly bared ourselves to each other that festive night, and what a way to do it! After some more merriment, Barb and I wade back to shore, and towel off to redress. The kids weren't too far behind, and they even invited us to stay and (can you guess?) drink more beer with them. As much fun as that sounded, we knew it was time for Mom & Dad to go upstairs, and let the kids play by themselves *chuckle*

So yes, another late Summer's eve of magic, with family and friends, love and laughter. These are the events that bring such joy to us all.

A Steak Fry, and Fruit Flies...

Yes, it's true, a Steak Fry at the local fairgrounds, and a plethora of fruit flies in your kitchen, can mean only one thing. Those hot, hoomid, sweltering "daze" of Summer is coming to an end. Oh sure, Old Man Summer still has us in his sweaty grip, but make no mistake. Those fingers are getting more and more arthritic by the day.

It's now August up here in Northern Michigan, and the days still deepen into a long evening that only truly becomes night well past 10:00pm. But August also heralds the arrival of a certain local fair, and Onekama Days has the best Steak Fry ever! My beloved wife and I make this annual trek to the Fairgrounds with my brother, and enjoy some of the best cow ever served. Yes, we truly are Meatatarians!

The Onekama (go ahead, try and pronounce it, I dare ya) Lions are well known for this celebration of carnivorous catering. The proceeds go to the local Lion's Club (which does a wonderful job of supporting the community), and you see people from all over. And all kinds of people. Oh yes... our local village has many different local characters, and they *all* come to dine together this evening! From the table of Mohawk Hairdo's (Dad and Mom, all the kids) to the local gentry, and even the few Northern Michigan Dufus  that you just can't believe are really out of jail. Yet, here we all sit, behind a paper plate, merrily sawing into a quite tender steak, with plastic knives and forks.

The steak is roughly the size of the state of Rhode Island, and you can barely squeeze your baked potato (roughly the size of Delaware) next to it. Oh sure you also get a cuppa salad and a roll, even dessert if you wish. But here, for this evening, it's all about the steak! As we happily masticate our meat, we all agree that it must have come from a very happy cow. A cow that was proud to give it's life for such a noble endeavor as helping our Onekama (no, it's not One Comma) Lion's to raise muchly needed dollars for their various projects. In this time of a depressed economy, every organization is feeling the pinch. Most people are cutting back on their donations to charities, just like the governments have cut back on their services. But this magical evening, people come from far and wide, all to help a local charity, and (mostly) to eat a really good steak, at a really good price!

Ahhh.. with our paper plates polished off, and in the trash, we bid a fond adieu to the Onekama (ok, it's pronounced Oh-neck-a-ma) Lion's and drop my brother off at his apartment. Homeward we go, and home we arrive. I saunter (well, after all that steak, I really waddle, but who's to say?) over to the fridge to capture a cold beer, and that's when it hits me. Look at all those fracking Fruit Flies! Blech.

Aye yup, another sure sign of this August month... the bountiful blighters breed like bodacious bunnies in heat! Sigh. There's just *nothing* you can do! Maybe if we had central air conditioning we could keep them at bay, but like most true Northern Michiganders, we only permit one AC unit in our bedroom. Which means those tiny harbingers of doom and disease can simply flit thru the screens and invade our kitchens like a horde of ravenous porn stars in search of lube and a flat surface! Oh gawd, they are just disgusting. (No, I mean the fruit flies now) No matter how clean you keep the place, they just always overpopulate, every end of Summer. And they will claim your kitchen as their very own, until just before LadyBug Season.

Oh sure you can make sure there are NO dirty dishes, glasses, cups, or forks on the counter, and still they will find a way to permeate your favorite room. You even move the kitchen trash container out to the deck so the ugly little blighters will filthily procreate out there. Until you want to sit out and enjoy the sunset. Yuck.

But, ok. There you have it, don't you? You just figure out how to deal with them. It's just another annual event, much like steak night in Onekama (you do know how to pronounce it now, don't you?). And really, you realize that, it's alright. Sometimes Life gives you steak, and sometimes you get fruit flies. But really, it's just good to be alive, and be in a position that allows you to be thankful for both. Oh sure you really, really hate those little blighters, but in the end, are they really so terrible? They'll go away in a bit, and hey, you just had a great steak!

Fantastic Falcons Fly Forever

What? Another boring High School Reunion, that serves only to remind you of the people you didn't like, and still don't care for? Nope! Quite the opposite in fact. Yup, I just went to a very fun and festive picnic, where a few of us from the very old days got together and had a terrific time!

Yes, that's me in my finery on the left...
As usual (at least for me) it starts with a rather lengthy journey, by car, to drive down and across my state for a bit over four hours, to meet up with this gang. I'm not really sure how we all found each other (lo these many years later) on FaceBook, but I have a sneaking suspicion that our dear Faye was behind it. They do refer to it as "FayeBook" after all *chuckle*.

So downstate I go, check into the hotel, and then Faye picks me up to continue on to the picnic. The picnic was at Stony Creek Metro Park, and we had a beautiful spot on the lake. This was mostly due to Faye, who camped out at our spot since the wee hours, and refused to let anyone else in! She even had signs made up, and organized the event. Yup, our dear Faye is a mover and shaker for sure!

Upon entering the park, I was rather amazed at all the various signs for many different functions! Guess the last Saturday in July is a busy time there. But she expertly guided us to the correct picnic site (after expertly guiding us to every red light on the roads to there), and voila! Tables of food that would have impressed visiting Royalty, and a Margaritaville table as well! Plus, with a 100ft extension cord going to the bathroom, we had a blender, and a music box. (Thanx to Mark & Sarah!) On the right is Jerry and his bride Debbie, better folk you will never meet!

As soon as I clamber out of her large-as-a-living-room-sized van, I am greeted by a bevy of beautiful women, and hugs all around. Oh yes, it's good to be the Jamie :) Some of the group I had seen recently, some I hadn't seen for a few decades. My gawd, are we getting old or what? But no matter what our bodies tell us, we all feel quite young and energized on this fine day.

I was put in charge of grilling the hot dogs, so naturally I had to have a beer first ;)  And get caught up with some folks. But after Faye nearly had an apoplectic fit at some unsuspecting driver which had the nerve to run over one of her signs, I wisely decide to start the fire and get the dogs a roasting.

So yes, the food... what a glorious spread! The gals really outdid themselves this time. We had at least three tables laden with a banquet, along with the Margaritas, and plenty of beer all around. In other words, we had a great time! We all kinda milled around, swapping stories, and laughing along with each other. Really, rather amazing as some of us didn't  hang out together back in the day. And some brought their kids along, which was a wonderful surprise. All the little, and some not so little, ones enjoyed themselves as Mom, or Dad, was busy with the other so-called adults.

So here we are, some 35 years or so later, around a picnic table, sometimes huddled under umbrellas, and just enjoying being with those people. I doubt that any of us back then would have predicted such a thing. Some of the gang didn't stray far from home, and settled down, post college (or not college) and entered the time honored tradition of having families. Some of us went afar, looking for our fortunes across this vast land.  Yet here we all were, for just one afternoon, together after all the years and miles. Together after all the anguish, and the triumphs. Content and happy to merely enjoy being with such select company, and share stories. Yes, the stories were all what you might expect to hear. But they were stories of a real, identifiable, person, not just words in a sentence to be discarded after reading. Sure we shared our pain as we felt appropriate, but mostly we shared our joy, and our love. I think that honestly sharing love, can be even more of a challenge than sharing the pain, but this group was well up to the task. These are the afternoons that make a rather mundane day become so brilliant! This day was one to be enjoyed by us, and just for our time together, to be loved by each other.

Chicken pecking, and scratching, and dropping... Oh my!

Considering that it's still a quite beautiful Summertime in The Hundred Acre Woods By The Inland Sea, every quaint and bucolic village and town is still hosting our Northern Michigan variety of Arts & Crafts Shows, or Farts & Craps depending on the subjective level of quality of the items.

This weekend past was no exception, and being the loyal Michiganders that we are, Barb and I obligingly set off to wander thru a couple of them. It was a hot July mid Summer's late afternoon when we hooked up the team of gerbils to our wagon and set out. Tally Ho! ...and off to Frankfort, for a lovely time of looking at all the various styles of "Beach Jewelry" each piece different, yet all alike. As we promenade along the concourse, dripping sweat and wishing for a breeze, we happily run into friends and acquaintances. Dear Phyllis from Church wastes no time as she buries her nose in Barb's bags of goodies, and happily squeals "I just hafta see what's in there!". After passing inspection of our purchases, and the requisite chit chat, we amble along. We did manage to get some fun stocking stuffers for the kids, and even a birthday gift or two. That, combined with a nice, cold, ice cream treat pretty much made our time there worthwhile.

Thus we head our wagon home to drop off the goodies, and refresh ourselves (and the team of gerbils) before our next adventure.  Earlier in the day, Barb and I were at Krista LeAnn's in Bear Lake to get our hair trimmed (in my case) or cut and styled (in her case) and dear Krista filled our ears with stories of tonight's festivities in Kaleva. In most small villages, the local Hair Stylist is not only the best source of information, but usually is to be regarded as a type of rock star, for all her misadventures in life. And Krista is certainly the rock star of Bear Lake! The fact that she is as beautiful as she is friendly only helps to make her more so.  So, she simply insists that we go to Kaleva Days tonight, to hear her boyfriend's band.

Well, who are we to decline the offer of a rock star? So it's evening and off we go to Kaleva! Woot! Woot! Upon arrival, I decide that since it's my date, we would dine in the splendor of the local Lion's Club trailer. And gnosh well we did. I feasted upon a Sloppy Joe Dog (with chips!) while my bride made little work of a hot dog with sauerkraut. Yes, I pull out all the stops for my lovely wife. Then, into the Beer Garden we happily go... I offer to support the local Fire Department and purchase some wonderfully colf beer, and a non beer but had alcohol drink thingy for Barb.

We run into our dear rock star, and my goodness me, she certainly has been supporting the Fire Department as well! I am truly impressed with her level of devotion to civic duty, and her ability to form words without slurring. *chuckle* Hey, it's a Saturday night, and she can kick up her heels a bit if she wants too. Her boyfriend's band is playing, and so far no one has thrown anything at them, so Life is good. And then we turn around... and see the caged board. And the chicken coop next to it. And then the fun really begins!

I've seen a lot of things in my life, but this one refines my experience of living in Northern Michigan! Oh sure at every Festival is some way to win a Raffle, and the proceeds go to a local not-for-profit organization. sure the Fire Dept sells beer, or the local Lions Club raffles off a kayak. Sure those are nice ways for a group to raise money to continue to serve the community. But this, this my friends truly was the amazement of the night. The head of the Kaleva Beautification Team (which takes run down houses and renovates them) has a 3ft by 3ft board, and divided into squares. In each square is a number. You can bet on what number the chicken is gonna crap on! Oh. My. Gawd! Really! If the chicken craps on your number, then you win. Oh. My. Gawd. This was just too incredible! So imagine about 20 or so people standing around a cage, telling the chicken which number to drop it on, and other various remarks.  And of course, most of the aforementioned good folks were also verdant supporters of the Fire Department, so that just added a bit more, should we say colorful, commentary to the scratchings. I don't think we've ever enjoyed an evening quite like that in our lives! How long before it comes back?