Actually, Joanne Helped Raise Me

The weekend officially started off over at my brother’s new apartment. My family, (both parents even), the brothers’s girlfriend’s mom (one of the best Gumbo chefs I know), Trout’s family, and various other friends all got together to party. The function of the party was three-fold: as a housewarming for my brother and his girlfriend, as chance for everyone to get to meet each other, and to eat some of the best gumbo west of the Mississippi. In addition to the great company and excellent food, the evening included babies, dancing, beer, wine, gin & juice, drawing, impromptu jam sessions on pots, pans, air guitars, real guitars, vocal chords and any other instrument that could be found or invented, and tons of laughter. After the party we all went to the bar. This was probably not a good idea. Some of us were not allowed in the bar for various reasons – those of us that made it were kicked out in less than 15 minutes. Apparently the owner/manager of The Park doesn’t take kindly to grown men dawning some of their girlfriends accessories and acting like they are picking up on him. Getting kicked out was totally worth seeing that grumpy old man’s reaction though.

Saturday I’ll write about sometime in the future. Once some issues get resolved. Or not.

Sunday morning was spent tidying up the apartment. I then went and had lunch with a long-lost childhood friend. Actually, Joanne helped raise me during my first five years. Unfortunately the circumstances were a bit sad as she was in town visiting a very sick relative. It has been about 15 years since I’ve seen her last, but she hadn’t changed a bit (well ok maybe she’s a little older). Exact same laugh and distinctive movements. I could tell it was her when I was while going to pick her up by the way she would walk into the street and look around and pace. We had a great lunch and brought back some great memories for each other from that time in our lives. It seems I can always find time for nostalgia.

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