The Ridge was hot today. The windows and doors were ajar but the heat leaked in and made this seem like a summer gathering. Dan Firestone was holding court for the Program Committee. They were sweating it out but they always come through with great speakers that are informative and entertaining. Kudos to them.
It is fun writing this column as three Rotarian’s approach me as I write notes and attempt to give me Sargeant of Arms money. Being honest, I deferred to Bob Buettner.
I strolled through the gathering masses, 36 in all today, and found a few notable offerings for you. The Empress was a “lil” cranky at first, but then she gazed into Happy Jack’s eyes and all was back to normal again. I looked in his eyes but got no such feelings.
Mark Glass made a bee line to me to tell me something and upon arrival he promptly forgot what he wanted to say. We pinned a note on his chest with his name/number on it and showed him where his car was after the meeting.
Art Bradbury is always engaging and we shared a few laughs about the VW diesel fiasco. In a short conversation with Bill Saunders, he informed (bragged) me about how he had cleaned the house for Bev as she had her bridge group coming in later. What a guy.
If you hadn’t seen it, you must call up the Hartford Courant website and see the lovely article on Sunday about Dan and Betty Russell. What a wonderful couple.
I did make my way over to the podium to see if the microphone was working. As you know from my prior writing, our speakers have found a way to vocalize mud. Upon a proper “test, test, test”, it was determine there is no hardware problem. What next you ask? President Bill shuffled me aside and rang the bell. Like Pavlov’s dogs, the throng of Rotarian’s stand, sings harmoniously and celebrate our freedom and independence with a proper saying of the Pledge. Hope Firestone found a simple invocation that befits our fortunate lives and how we should live.
It was lunch time with a Mexican flare. There were all of the makings for tacos. You could have it with the corn shell, or simply pile the “stuff” on a plate or over a salad. I cannot vouch for this entrée but the throng seemed happy. Cookies complimented the meal.
The Welcome Song was rehearsed promptly at 12:40 PM with the proper key provided by George Schoen. Still no dancers and this is starting to bother me.