Steven (unzeugmatic) wrote,

Lolling About in Our Whites

It was a beautiful evening last night, warm and pleasant and long. Ramsey's Braggarts Morris Men danced out at the Lake Harriet Bandshell, before a concert of a local community band. This was pleasant enough, but then just before the concert began the conductor granted us permission to go right in front of the stage where we danced "Black Joke", a rousing stick dance. The acoustics of the stick clashes were clean and crisp and it was just a great time.

Oh, and we learned that Ironman Matt did not just sprain his ankle at the Ale, he actually broke a bone in his leg -- his fibula, I think. Remember that he danced on it the next day, and then again last night. Douglas said this makes him more Titaniumman than Ironman.

When the band began to play we walked over to the nearby trolley depot, a small stretch of the old trolley line that is maintained by volunteers and enthusiasts who run a car between Lake Harriet and Lake Calhoun. We danced some more, then rode the train. We do this every year we can. More fun.

Bob W. was in charge of the evening (the team is relieving me of such duties as I prepare to depart for Australia). Traditionally we go out to Dave's Barbecue after this particular gig, but Bob wanted us to go where we could sit outside and drink beer, to take advantage of the superlative weather. No idea we came up with seemed right until Bob did the cartoon head-slap with palm gesture and said, "I have beer, and a deck in the backyard!" so we went to Bob's. I stopped on the way and bought some fancy dips and pate and chips and crackers, and others stopped and bought non-beer drinks. Our plans to order pizza fell by the wayside.

So we sat in the yard and talked Morris. We imagined a summer playing around with new traditions, just for fun. We talked about the Toronto Ale. I reminisced about Australia. I mentioned that bearfuz ordered me to take lots of pictures on my trip but of course I don't have a digital camera. Matt and Deb pointed out that they have two, having purchased a newer one of greater pixel resolution to take action photos of the bike races they help organize. Friday I'm going over to their place to pick up their older camera and get instructions and maybe I will be able to photo-document my trip after all.

At one point it struck me with an odd sort of smirking pleasure that all of us were sitting around Bob's yard clad wholly in white, head to toe (except for the yellow socks and suspenders).

Time is moving strangely as I prepare to depart for Australia. Last night was both a split second and an eternity. The ghostly garb contributed greatly to that otherworldly feeling.
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