Went to my first art crowd bash in many moons.

80 people in an 1800' open space. It was a mid-city residential-block car garage with a 14' roof.

Host bought it years ago, made it all clean and nice inside.

I asked about the lack of stuff in there. Why was one 60' wall lined with used commercial refrigerators?

Why was there a shelf, neatly crammed with 20 gal bin boxes, running on a shelf, 9' off the floor.

It's his mancave, I was told. What the hell does he do with all this space?

It's mainly his home brewery (1800 sq.'!!)
Oh, and when he has time (he's a British merch. marine) he makes wooden kayaks. OK, then.

Typically artsy crowd. Age range from 24-73. Fashion-era range, ditto, though not with any correlation between the age of the wearers. Same for hair.

Live music from Nashville session guitarist, Peter Parcek's band. (He's very Les Paul.)

Open bar. Joints on the dessert table. That's a party, kiddies! Hostess recalled that 30 years ago, that party would have devolved into an orgy.

Where does the time go?

WTF is that supposed to mean?!?!

Sounds like a real scene, Bob. You have an impossibly glamorous life.

In Suburbia yesterday, I stopped at the Target on the way home, then had pizza and beer for dinner before falling asleep on the couch while watching TV.

I win.

My wife jokes that she's gonna have to install tack strips in my recliner since I fall asleep so often in the Tuttle style - in the living room chair, watching TV.

Hijacked already, Bo(b)Kay.

Not sure whether to respond as et or al....

Bob, sounds like the kind of thing that you would really enjoy and I'm guessing you had a great time.

As far as the joints on the table go, was it uncomfortable for the really tall guys to participate and virtually impossible for the really short guys, or was it a multi-tiered table to accommodate everybody? And was there a time limit, minimum participation time or (wait for it)...... no minimum length?

Your timing is interesting as we just went through a complete battery of tests for my wife who doesn't last for 10 minutes after sitting down to watch TV at night, so here is a heads up for the benefit of our experience.

Turns out that as she has gotten older, she has developed the medical equivalent of a slow motion "Off" switch in her butt. Activates on contact with the sofa, but apparently operates in the same manner as one of those slow closing toilet seats.

Haven't explored treatment yet. Since her talking mechanism also shuts off, I am dragging my feet to find any type of countermeasure.

I DO know that any solution will NOT include a joint on the table. I've tried that in various ways over the years and she doesn't respond well to it.

Interesting how the disparate subjects in this thread have converged here.

Now THAT'S funny, Ray !

How can you just waltz in here once in a blue moon and make us all laugh when the regulars try and fail daily?

Well, it all has to do with "old guy nap cycles". The sleep time is getting longer everyday, and then there is the cleanup time for excess drool. Then you add the lucid vs "I don't remember" part of the equation.

Applying strict algebra to the above, the answer gives me about 3 minutes every 4 months to rally with a post. Thank God I can spell pretty well or the correction time would wipe out the 3 minutes.

Of course having Bob post by drawing from his rich vein of seriously abstract twistedness is a real benefit in being able to find humor.

Sorry - nap time!

It wasn't really about the party. It was about the brewery. I thought Tom, Peter, and "others" (I can't remember every person here who's made mention of home brew) would be jealous.

I always get excited when someone gets jealous about something I don't care about---like parties or brew, or young & pretty people.

As for the dessert table favors, well who in Satan's red abyss do you think they called, Honey Badger?

Honey Badger doesn't give a bleep. He's badass!