We safely returned from the soon-to-not-be annual family reunion. Yes, most every July we head to beautiful Pennsylvania to mainly eat and chat, because we're old now. I volunteered to drive my Dad and brother, somewhat because we don't do much as a family unit, but mostly because I get to leave when I want to if we do it that way. Of course, these drives deteriorate into silliness for a couple of hours each way, and you can't have enough of that.

On the way down, we observed the "No Peeing Until Pennsylvania" rule, because I passed the last one in Ohio without even thinking. We found out later that the other two cars from Cleveland also observed this rule.

Highlights on the way down included an aborted sing-along of "Los Angeles" by X, with appropriate head-banging. My Dad did not want to participate for some reason. Sheesh, like he doesn't know the words. Not even on the "Get out" part. Then there was the inevitable backseat driving incident when said driver is in complete control of the situation, albeit at a high rate of speed, while someone checking the newspaper looks up and immediately sees a potential crash. Sorry, not on my watch.

We pull in and it's a beautiful day, nary a cloud in the sky. Not too hot, just right. Part of the deal for this thing is you have to bring food. My Dad made some cinnamon cookies. My brother made a Snickers dessert that has Snickers, apples and other stuff in it and it was a fine effort. Whereas others were making beelines to their local bakeries and grocery stores, I made the world-famous "Jim's Friggin' Ritz Bites". They were known as "Savory Ritz Bites" until one of the older folks called it that. It was determined with her language, she would fit in at Alesci's. Anyhow, how did the "Bites" go over? Oh, testimonial upon testimonial are just pouring in. What's that you say..."I'm going to serve these to the ladies who come over and play cards." "Wow, what's that recipe again?" "...hit of the party..." Never doubt the power of the Ritz Bit.

Unfortunately, we had less than 25 people show up. That means major inter-family brownie points for those who attended. Alas, the second and third-generation folks just don't have the interest like they used to. People die, people move and some people don't care. So, a plan was proffered to have it every other year and to be frank, I'm not sure it's gonna work. They are doing an RSVP with payment due early, thinking that might give some pause if they want to cancel. Hey, I've blown off events that cost more than this, so that's not a large issue. It's also held in a park where there is no alcohol allowed, so I'm not sure if that's an issue, because I drink on the way. They also said if you wanna have friends come down, bring 'em along. Hey, my family's gotta a lot entertainers in it, but I don't see that happening either. My sense is it's a lot easier to blow off an event held every two years, instead of an annual one. So, it's a perplexing issue we'll have to deal with. The lure of the Ritz Bit may not be strong enough to spike attendance.

I actually liked the smaller crowd. It's more intimate that way and it's easier to hear my jokes. Someone asked, "Now how close do all of you live in the Cleveland area?" I said, "As far away as possible." That was Shelby Lynne's drummer with the rim shot.

We left around 5:40. Highlights on the way back included said driver stopping for gas in Y-town at an exit that did not have an appropriate entrance going westbound. Somehow, I made it to 422 without asking for directions and reconnected to the highway. And in a "you had to be there" moment, we heard an awful song by some band named Renaissance. And I asked when did Streisand do rock? My brother than recounted a scene from "On a Clear Day, You Can See Forever" which had us both in hysterics, while my Dad was moved to say, "You're both nuts." This from a man who was having phone problems, then decided to call everyone he knew to ask if they had called him.

All in all, a most enjoyable day, but I have no idea what I will be doing the third Saturday in July 2007.

Meal of Links

A little bit of publicity for our friend, Les, the "Beer Guy". A nice guy who really knows how to vend.

Scotland Yard admits they made an error and shot the wrong guy. An oops of major proportions. And for the "wrong place at wrong time" theory, uh, the guy was on his way to work. That doesn't constitute wrong place to me. Oh, it'll get ugly before this is put to rest.

Nothing like little kids cussing. Of course, there is a message.

Exercise Yard

Lance drinks and rides...again.









A great chat with Eddie Merckx, who ruled cycling (and probably still does) when I was a kid. Lots of stuff about Lance, who won his 7th Tour in a row.

Visitor

None, it's Sunday.