Question

Can an evening be memorable if you can’t remember it?

There are some parts I recall reasonably well, notably herculean efforts to start a fire in the windswept barbecue grill with pages from the Jesus pamphlet (no harm intended!) and then later, interviewing the karaoke-jay at the Boxcar and I even have some images of the Nickerson spread out before me like biofilm on my brain matter, but a lot of the specifics sort of pale in comparison to the generalized delightfulness of the afternoon that became the first daylight meet-up for me of the season and perhaps a precursor of what’s in store during the months ahead, even though it’s clear, from this morning’s perspective, that a person oughtta pace himself especially when drinks with strawberries attached are being handed around.

The advertised theme was “Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash,” a phrase I only knew from the Pogues’ album title, but which I now have learned was Winston Churchill’s quote about the British naval tradition, and while nobody wore a sailor suit, I guess all three were more or less on display in one form or another.

Still, I couldn’t tell if the direct route through the alleys and wrong-way one ways straight to the wrong side of Fremont counted as the second or the third, even though there was no question about where the first came into the picture, even if it was mixed with juice and vodka and spiced with vanilla, I think.

In any case, the fancy drinks put everyone in a festive mood eventually—at least as memory serves—and the wind acted as a gentle reminder that walls are a pretty great invention, so despite the fact (or perhaps because of it) that it was the sort of night when a route from Magnolia to Magnolia went the long way around, it was also the kind you’ll certainly never forget, (no matter how hard you try) if only you could remember.