Weekend Upon Us

I have written in the past, I would say eloquently, others would probably say psychotically, about the importance of celebrating the First Friday of the Week. That august day is once again upon us and I’m waiting with semi-baited breath to discover if our primary target location, Brew City, will be open this week. My Favorite Panamanian was asking this morning how far a drive it was to the Wrentham Outlet Mall so her attendance is probably not in the cards.

Celebrating the First Friday of the Week has been a staple of my eclectic adult work history as far back as my second lieutenant days in Panama when a group of rowdy, usually fragrant infantry lieutenants would storm the Howard Air Force Base Officer’s Club. We felt it was our constitutional duty to show the para-military zoomies what the real military looked like. We wore their disdain like a badge of honor as we wound down from a week in the Panamanian jungles (hence the fragrance). It was also an educational system as lowly second lieutenants rubbed elbows with senior officers without the formal trappings of the regular duty day. I tried, somewhat more successfully than I anticipated, of carrying that tradition into civilian life. I’m just wondering if there’s a certain age I’ll reach when I no longer want to party/celebrate such innocuous events. Hopefully I’ll be dead by that point.

Great Aunt had a very tough day down in Rhode Island yesterday as the accumulated medical acumen could not figure out why her new knee was spasming so regularly and painfully. They did ween her off some of the more potent drugs and we had a lucid phone conversation late yesterday. She remained in the hospital for another night although she did make it up the stairs, the final requirement for discharge. During that exercise there were some complications that required additional testing which she passed with flying colors. I just spoke with Soxfather who was heading to the hospital – hopefully to extract her this afternoon.

The First Blog Reader had a very good day with her dad, Wingman, yesterday. As demonstrated in the attached video she’s inherited some of her dad’s rock and roll genes and is already playing a mean air guitar. Her good spirits didn’t last through our nightly FaceTime call though where she engaged in a spirited tantrum. The last straw for her parents was throwing a large piece of watermelon at the video screen (her not me) which ended the call summarily. Apparently, she’s ready to party on Friday as well (genetics once again in play).