Debriefing

Cicadas:
     Another PattyPalooza is in the books; this year's edition had some things missing, and a few new things added. I'm aware that by now you're bored to death with my incessant yammering about this understandably breathless with antici......pation, longing to hear of the goings-on at the latest edition of this time honored ritual of summer's end. Thus, without further ado, a recap of PP11.
     Long-time subscribers to this interminable screed are quite aware of this event's back-story; those new to these annals will simply have to read past editions to catch up. Suffice it to say that the 2012 event had a different feel about it - this owing, no doubt, to the absence of a number of key revelers who found themselves trapped in outposts like New York, North Carolina and Singapore. Technology has sufficiently advanced to allow check-ins from these rovers, via Facebook and Skype; so while they were absent in body, they joined us in spirit (ethereal, not liquid).
     I want to take this opportunity to provide a PSA about Skype; actually, this is more a warning than an announcement.
     I caution users to remember that this is a big world; just because you can see someone's face half a world away, doesn't mean they're right there with you. Additionally, some of our clan were confounded by the time difference between Southeast Asia and the East Coast of the good ole' US of A. Although they are 12 hours ahead of us, THAT DOESN'T MEAN THEY LIVE IN THE FUTURE! Asking them the scores of sporting events yet to be played is futile <although time travel is apparently possible; cue the Twilight Zone theme music and check these out..>.


     While those absent from the festivities were missed, additions to the agenda were offered in an effort to fill the void. This year saw the inclusion of the Animal Charades, Pool Hoops and the Milli Vanilli Lip Sinc event. Channeling my inner Patsy Cline, I helped create a weekend-long earworm - Crazy. I've told you in the past that I love cowgirls; this performance should have removed whatever doubt remained about that. The woods were alive with the sound of music.
     As is so often the case, Mother Nature crashed the party. Although she cooperated most of the weekend, she pretty much wet on us on Labor day, letting out whatever air was left in our collective paerty baloons. If breaking up is hard to do, packing up is even harder. Leaving revelry on the table is never pleasant, making the ride home a somber one indeed.
     So there it is, dear efts; the above recap is intentionally bereft of details that might cast your author in a negative light. I do, after all, have an image to maintain, that I'll again burnish with my upcoming trip to Sierra Leone. I'll post once again before winging my way to the Dark Continent, providing those of you who can't seem to get enough of my tripe, with a nauseating level of information regarding my preparations for said pilgrimage.
     Cur non omnibus sit similis mei?