 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
|
|
That North Countrinians like to party isn't headline news. The discovery of a double yolk in a frying pan is cause for a major celebration, including multiple kegs of beer and a band. Such a healthy party spirit is requisite for good North Country living, a spirit, I confess, I like. Syracuse folks like to party, too, but they're different. In Syracuse I once attended the popular Party in the Plaza, where once a week smartly-clad revelers gather to pontificate on the latest in style and coolness. Briefed on a half dozen or so of the latest trendy expressions gleaned from Men's Health and GQ magazine, I prepared myself for a sophisticated evening of chic and swank at the Party in the Plaza. But my trendiness soon began to spiral out of control, when after the words "albeit" and "oeuvre" issued forth from my mouth in the same sentence, I suffered an acute sophistication meltdown, and like Cinderella, I instantly reverted back to my dull and uncool self. I was thereupon banished from the party unceremoniously. But I suddenly remembered that Bobbi was having a party yon North, and I hastily composed myself, donned my flannels, and immediately struck out for No Law (North Lawrence) to enjoy some good beer, good friends, bad singing, and, oh yes, a good time. It's Bobbi's college graduation party. She's celebrating her amazing ability to work full-time, take care of two kids, bake pies, and finish college all at once. Dimly reflecting on my college days, when I served admirably in the fraternity Tappa Mega Kegga, I enthusiastically shared Bobbi's celebratory mood. Bobbi's heroic accomplishment was grounds for serious merrymaking, requiring lots of beer, a roasted pig, and live entertainment. In the gallery below the foxy-looking babe in the first box is Bobbi. Next is her country-crooning Uncle Gary, who runs the Karaoke. Next to him, sporting the suspenders, is her Uncle Joe. To Joe's left is her Uncle Donny and his family. Next to Donny is Bobbi's mother, Linda. Finally, below Bobbi, in charge of the pig is Mark (Tinker), who nobody mistakes for his brothers, at least nobody who can legally see. Sit back, pop open a Genny beer, and check out the party. Don't be alarmed by the wild looking guys in black. There's a reason they look so alien—they're Canadians! |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Party
on!
