The rockets red glare

Stacey has started officially at the hospital. So far so good. We're starting to not see each other very much too. No good stories yet, but oh its just a matter of time.

I spent my fourth of july at two different parties. The first was a family barbeque that didn't involve any of my family. The staff chef at the church is a southern Georgia African American gentleman who has become one of my good friends. He invited me to his annual fourth celebration to partake in the chowing down of 60 pounds of ribs, another 20 pounds of burgers, dogs, and chicken. Yes, that's 80 pounds of meet. I also ate some macaroni and cheese. It was awesome.

So that was the afternoon. That night I went to one of local malls to visit some members of the church who own a production company that was in charge of the event. They let me come backstage to take in the live entertainment and watch the fireworks. The fireworks were about 15 minutes long to a fantastic patriotic soundtrack. It was awesome. 250,000 people descended on this particular party. That requires a lot of porta potties. I used one backstage. It was nice and clean. Its nice to know connected people. When I asked them what their highest profile gig was they responded with this: in the 90s we produced an event with Michael Jackson. Yeah, that'll work.

The beach countdown is on. Low country boil night has been set for Wednesday evening. The only thing I'm worried about is this growing trend of breaking elbows in preparation for the beach. I just don't get it. One would think that a broken elbow would not be ideal for the beach. But after two cousins have done it weeks apart, I'm wondering if I'm missing out on something. Even if I am, I'm going to just say no.