Happy Labor Day! Did you know that we celebrate Labor Day in September and not May because Grover Cleveland didn't want to give in to those damn Socialists? Now there was a president you could hang your hat on.
This is just a quickie... we're hosting a grilling-and-dominoes gathering this evening, which means that my responsibilities for the next three and a half hours include, but are not limited to: preparing two side dishes, making salsa, getting all of R's camping gear to fit in the guest room closet (cut to hilarious cartoon sequence of Katie attempting to fling objects into the closet faster than they're falling back out onto her head, finally getting the last one in, hurling herself backwards against the door to close it, bracing herself as the door starts to burst back open, etc...), weeding the front path, and getting dressed. Thus far today I've managed to wash the dishes, eat some fruit, decide not to do any of the city-wide free yoga classes being offered (my tender little recovering nose still can't be upside-down for extended periods of time or unfortunate drainage issues take place within the confines of my skull) and re-learn the chords to "Lakes of Pontchartrain." Clearly I'm on a roll.
(Interlude: Oh hey Sheldon, I don't know if you read this but if you do - um, R stole some of your pictures for our convention flyer, because you take the best convention photos posted on the internet. Please direct all complaints and threats of lawsuit to the graphic designer; I'm just the messanger. Here's the damage:
Some of you may notice that some of our "Texas" singers bear a striking resemblance to your "Western Mass" singers. This is, of course, purely a coincidence.)
Okay, friends, I'm off to party like it's 5768. (Nerdy Jewish joke. Which isn't actually funny at all because it's Labor Day, not Rosh Hashannah. And I won't actually start partying for another several hours. Well, this post ended with a bang...)