Coffeehouse Chronicles …and is This Where All the Cool Cats Are Hanging?

Whaddup Chroniclers?

How are all my cool peeps? Razmataz. Skiddlybeebop. We’re kicking in Jazzland, and I’m feeling a bit nostalgic. The HB won't let me get up on stage and help out, even though I insist I’ll probably be pretty good at it, even though the last time I picked up an instrument was about 45 years ago.

What’s the big deal? It’s like riding a bike, isn’t it?

Yesterday started out slow-motion. I was worn out from getting an early start on Thursday and the trip up. I decided to sleep it off. It turns out that the HB and I needed to sleep in. McCroc waited patiently until 6:43 to see if I was awake. Then he would send a text every 15 minutes or knock on the RV door to see if I was awake yet. At 9, I relented and got up to see what had him so excited. He wanted to show me the Crocs he had bought for the occasion. They were black, adorned them with some jazz-themed jibbitz; music notes, a trumpet and a sax.

I have to humor him; he is my best friend. “That is so cool, Cmdr.”

Thursday night, the HB laid out a spread for everyone: spaghetti, garlic toast, and all the fixin’s. The Right Rev and Tenille didn’t want to be outdone, so they put their heads together and brought out their smokers and grills. These guys turned it into a competition.

It started off slowly at first, then escalated. It was much like watching a storm develop. Tenille asked, “You hungry?”

The Right Rev said, “Ya know? I could eat. Maybe I’ll make a PB & J?”

Then the groundswell. Tenille said, “How about some smoked baloney?”

The Right Rev sat up, “Maybe some tri-tip?”

Then Tenille piped in, “We could get the grills going and put some dogs on!”

It was like watching a tennis match. McCroc and I watched them volley ideas back and forth about what they were going to cook. When they decided, they both clapped in unison as if in a huddle on the gridiron.

“REDDD-EEEEEE?! BREAK!!”

I’m sure you’ve all watched one of those cooking shows on TV, right? It was a lot like that. McCroc and I meandered back and forth between the two RVs, chatting with the chefs. They would each tell us what they were cooking, careful to disclose some, but not all of their secrets, and hint at to us how they proposed to do it.

They each carried small briefcases with their cooking implements. The Right Rev has a monogrammed set, and Tenille’s set is gold-plated. These guys take the RV grilling scene to the next level. All McCroc and I could do was watch. I was not just impressed—I was mesmerized.

Not to be outdone, McCroc pushed his meager offering of a Coleman camp stove over next to one of the Traeger smokers to help in any way he could. The Right Rev openly scoffed, but I don’t think McCroc saw it. He was busy, excitedly running back to his rig for a replacement propane canister.

Some 45 minutes later, there was so much food on the picnic table that there was barely any room for us all to sit and eat.

—-

Time to roll to the fairgrounds.

We head out, park, and jump on the shuttle. Guess who gets on after us? McCroc’s church crew! Yep. Mo, Winnie, Dwayne & Teddi are here too! Mo also worked at our step-sister agency, but McCroc and I let him hang with the cool cats because of Winnie. She’s one of us. He can’t be all bad if she likes him a little. He also gets some cool points because he can tell a story. He is not quite as good as your hero, but his stories are mildly entertaining. Mo has a crazy memory and can detail names and addresses as if reading them from a blotter. Although I am moderately impressed by this, if Mo really wanted to impress me, he would rattle off the license plate number of the car the bad guy was driving. Then I might be moved.

Surprise! Mo already knows the First Lady and the Capt from work!

We were able to locate the Professor and Yoko in the crowd, who drove down from higher ed to hang with the crew. The HB and I had to go out on an expedition to locate Dot (only I can call her that) and Jackie. They’re Jazz Fest Vets, so they helped us navigate.

The Capt saw that Dot and Jackie were Delts, so she sidled up next to them to do some elbow rubbing.

Ahhh…what a nice evening. We all sat back in our rental chairs to enjoy the music.

Wait! Do you wonder how the Professor could decimate not one but TWO of those nice little chairs? That story will have to be told around the campfire soon.

Drink ‘em if you got ‘em!

#coffeehousechronicles