High Drama

Now, where were we?

Ah, yes. The Bisque Fest. And ensuing High Drama.

Before My Girl Nancy and her Blondetourage -- the lovely Coreen, Kelly and Jody -- arrived, we entertained ourselves hangin' by the Westy, listening to the music, enjoying snacks and drinkie-poos.

We had boys . . .

. . . lots of boys . . .

(Aren't they cute?)

. . . and we had girls . . .

. . . including the lovely Jennie . . .

. . . the lovely Constance . . .

. . . the lovely Dawnie with her Tommy . . .

. . . the lovely Elizabeth with her Dibble . . .

. . . and the lovely Eileen with her Ricky.

The one and only Carl Kelly even came by for a visit.

And then, all of a sudden, we heard a faint voice. A quiet cry for help. The voice came from a car of women of, as they say, a certain age, and they were stuck. Stuck.

We descended upon them en masse.

Eileen called AAA for them . . .

. . . and seemed to have an awful lot of fun doing so . . .

. . . Jennie gave Joan the driver spiritual advice . . .

. . . Mr. Dibble and I tried to jump Joan's car . . .

. . . we're jumper cable pals, ol' Dibs and I.

The drummer from one of the bands came over with a hammer and a towel, and got under the car and banged around. It didn't do any good, but we were impressed.

And finally, the AAA guy came. And determined the five Ladies Who Lunch were, indeed, stuck.

We could have told him that.

So he called for reinforcements.

And what a reinforcement it was. A gigantic flatbed tow truck. This thing could have hauled a school bus out of there.

The problem, though, was the truck couldn't get to the car. There was, clearly, only one thing to do.

Push.

Push, Jennie! Push!

I had the very important job of steering Joan's car out of its spot.

And Mistah had the even more important job of photographing the whole endeavor.

Thar she goes!

And thar they go. We put all five of them in a taxi and sent them up to their apartment building in Norwich . . .

. . . and they blew us kisses goodbye. They were so thankful they even called us "young people".

And the Bisque Fest? How did the Bisque Fest handle the invasion of a Blondetourage? And the infusion of High Drama? And 8 hours of pure unadulterated joy?

Well, the Bisque Fest just kept on rocking...