Friends,
The Damp Dog Lodge is a deceptively large place and can accommodate throngs of guests. With the July 4th holiday falling on a Wednesday this year, the onslaught was more of a trickle, dribbling in all week. It started with a visit from a beautiful girl the weekend before last, my parents stopping by in the middle of the week for a parade, then my sister’s family arrived to cap off the week. In the past, I haven’t dealt well with crowds in my solitary and very secret Alpine hideaway, but over time it seems natural—almost organic, to have a pile of people here laughing together and generally enjoying the place. I almost feel robbed by the randomness of the calendar this year, but there’s plenty more summer left to get people together for happy funtimes. Let’s get on this right away.
While you all are making your travel plans, let’s get on with the picture show!
Here’s another scene from the parade. In this photo, you will see Randolph Mantooth and Kevin Tighe towing the Ghostbusters down North Circle Drive. I had a creepy feeling that the Ecto-1 needed service. Call it a hunch.
You may think we didn’t have bands in the parade, but that’s because you limited your definition of “band” to groups who are marching. We’re here to smash your preconceived notions. Also, thanks cheap oil!
“Vee are from Chermany!” she shouted as she trained her expensive video camera rig at the unwashed yokels gawking at her driver’s preposterous tricycle. She’ll have footage to show her European friends that Americans are weird and perpetually astonished. We now have a picture of her dopey ride to show them exactly why we were astonished.
Robert’s Jalapeño Creme sauce is, if this banner is to be believed, what we always wanted. When he tapes Tums to the jars, I’ll be convinced. I don’t think my esophagus has truly recovered.
These guys make my Mom cry. And by “my Mom” I mean everybody.
I’m going to go ahead and call this a parade float. It was unsponsored showmanship just for the sake of it, which I applaud. I’m going to also go out on a limb and call their display really nutty.
Unflinchingly patriotic, but wow. Just wow.
The Quilting Club had an entry in this year’s parade, as they have for many past parades. This year, however, they quilted their pickup. I don’t know if I’m the first to say this, but I’m kinda digging their winch cozy and I see opportunities here. Hello, Kickstarter!
They at least did a better job of replicating a mid-80s Chevrolet C20 fender than the cheap knock-offs at a cut-rate body shop. (Look, these are the jokes, folks. I will gladly refund the purchase price if you’re not fully entertained.)
This scene is from last weekend, where my niece recreates the historic moment when Teddy Roosevelt threw a saddle on a brown bear and charged up San Juan Hill. As you do.
And this scene suggests my nephew’s adoration of Philippe Petit. Amazing.
One of the sections of the climbing wall at the new playground is called Suicide Rock. In this reenactment, my niece attempts to convince my brother-in-law that all hope is not lost.
And in this picture, I end the post. Thanks for stopping by.
Your pal,
– bob