Pants on Fire

This is what I get for cheating. I was so pressed for time Friday night I took a limp old rag of writing and tried to make it snap like a flag in a stiff ocean breeze; took words  I wrote three years back and tried passing them off as fresh. What can I say? We were hurrying to  beat the traffic to the Cape.And I get tired sometimes.And that’s my only excuse.Also the fact that when we got down here we went out on the town so I didn’t proof the post and out it went into the world at 5am. I should explain that I schedule these posts so they appear on their own at that hour. So up it went, a great fat fib from beginning to end and chock full of typos too.God got me good though: in the post I talked about how my phone was dying which it in fact had been doing 1,000 days ago when I wrote the piece but then it did die, right during dinner Friday night. This fancy new i-Phone just went black. Wouldn’t reboot, wouldn’t take a charge. Just shut its eyes tight and took the 5^th.So let that be a lesson to me to tell the truth every time out!Another truth is that we had one gorgeous day on old Cape Cod. I ate too much, then drank too much, then came back to our hosts’  breezy cool house, climbed the stairs to the guest room, looked out over the waves of that rocking dish of an ocean and was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Sooo no phone again today. AND a big head from the Crown Royal. AND a guilty conscience for being a liar. I've learned my lesson. Never again will I write here what isn't true and real for me in the moment. And here's what's real right this second: these two views captured an hour or two after sunrise on the third-to-last weekend in August.  

Bar Talk

I had a daunting to-do list Monday and got through most but not all of it: I didn’t get the Tinker Toys. I guess I didn’t get the wine for that big 50-person party either, but why do that before it’s time to set up the bar? Which leads me to brag that after decades of providing alcohol to our friends and fellow citizens, we have finally figured out where to put the drinks when a crowd shows up: There's this six foot wide “alley” in our front hall not 20 feet from the front door. Block it off with a long skinny table and boom: there's your bar.It's works so much better than having the bar anywhere else. Put it in the kitchen, the dining room, the living room and you get your instant bottleneck, with people in a state of mute despair because they’re too nice to elbow their way past those two clueless ones up front who are just standing there running their mouths instead of getting their drink and moving along.But once  people get their cider, their pop, their belt of whiskey you are golden - because you’ve already put out the snacks, the sweets, the wee napkins smaller than a preemie’s T-shirt. Then if people want to step outside and smoke it’s fine; rock back on their heels and bore everyone to death with their political views that's fine too. Who cares if they even go in to the bathroom and inspect the contents of your medicine cabinet? Once you’ve yelled your hellos from behind your front hall bar and set them to circulating you are done baby done. People are responsible for their own fun every other minute of the day so why shouldn't they be at your house too? Here pictured: my old man and his big brother showing how this bar trick works for us. And below the kind of bouncy fun that ensues one you get that party started! (And no, you temperance types, we did not serve liquor to a child.)