Here are the minutes of the Summer Solstice™ Annual Meeting that took place on Feb. 24, 2003, at Puzzles Fine Dining and Beer Joint.
The meeting got off to an abrasive start when Brothers Mulligoon and Old Folks Smyth said they wanted to discuss this year’s venue. The Chairman, Brother Malanuke, and his sidekick, Yours Truly, said a decision had been made and the Summer Solstice™ would be in Lake Placid.
“I’d like to discuss that,” said Mulligoon, a bit petulantly, I thought. Then Old Folks agreed with him, as I believe did a couple of others although I didn’t make a note of whom because they are of no consequence.
Chairman Malanuke said it had been discussed and recommended, rather rudely, as I recall, that Mulligoon and Old Folks fuck off, or something like that. Mulligoon in a rare display of congeniality said “I’ll have an Ex” and Old Folks took a swig of his Orange Juice and the matter was dropped.
Then the Chairman in a masterpiece of political manoeuvring said that Special Ed would not head any committees or be a member of any committees. Special Ed merely laughed good naturedly and continued to organize the 2003 Summer Solstice™ although from my vantage point it seemed no one was paying any attention to him.
Then a brilliant riposte: He delivered three jugs of beer and he was persona grata again. Even Chairman Malanuke decided he’d switch to draft and referred to Special Ed as “friend.”
Not too long after that, Rookie Luciano, (call me Luche), ordered three more jugs and jumped immediately to the head of the Rookie of the Year Sweepstakes. Should he be invited to the 2003 Summer Solstice™, I suggest you watch this young man for two reasons: Buying beer is a trait one loves in others and he says he’s a 12 handicap. Let’s get those bets down, boys, another Liberal is about to be outted for the fraud that he is!
I thought Big Head’s reminder to Rookie Luche that “we’re drinking quarts” was a bit over the top, but Big Head—whose noggin now appears somewhat out of proportion to his newly reduced body—nevertheless gulped down a few glasses of the draft. He managed to survive the evening with his status as Tenured Solstician apparently intact and, more noteworthy, his bill at the end of the night was $5.50. For one who appeared to become noisier as the night wore on, it surely was a cheap drunk.