I managed to pull a newber-blooper - with that post to Jeff sent to the list. Though I'd bet it coulda been worse, sorry about that, guys....
[Ed. Note: None of us have ever done that ;-)]
I felt truly honored to share a plush abode with the Silverdustska queen herself...and her equally enchanting Hubert, ze connoisseur of fine cheeses. Since Rev Bob did such a fabulous job recounting the events of Sat, I'll only add a few misc comments. Once Sonia and I caught up with the rest of the gang on Fri nite (they'd tried in vain to replace us at dinner with some Baptist folks also in residence at the inn), we were treated to stories and photos of Canadian and Texan vacations...and even learned of Libby's hymn.
Saturday brought the arrival of Tom and, after a bit of logistic discombobulation, Pat and Tim. We descended en masse on Media Play for some credit limit bending. Then, after losing Rev Bob and Kelly in the stacks, Tom took Tim, Sonia, Pat, and I on a tour of the highways and byways surrounding greater Gnashville in seach of the best Hooters (though he tried hard to convince us he was looking for The Great Escape).
Once back at the Inn, Tom and Tim treated us to a mini jam of original tunes, some L. Wainwright III (in memoriam), some Zappa...and some fine singing and playing. After the whole gang got organized again, we headed off for the bash with Jeff et al. Rev Bob recounted that event pretty well - though he forgot to mention that he demonstrated the proper way to receive a licking.
The arrival of the morning's sunshine meant the departure of all but the DC delegation. After bidding farewell to Sonia, Tim, Pat and I struck out on the town. I regret too tell Marc that we were unable to find an Elvis on velvet that he didn't already own. But we did find other treasures thoug... among them hip-swinging Elvis clocks, fine indian pottery, a hemp camoisoille (which finally did Tim justice), a pretzel baseball cap, an amazon goddess, and, of course the famed goo goo clusters. As the great black panther winked over the Nashville horizon, we found ourselves entranced by a film of rodeo disasters set to the 'quick, quick, slow, slow' entreaties of a boot scootin' instructor. Once I tore the guys away from the allure of two-steppin' women and convinced them that the town wasn't ready for their appearance in Le Cage aux Nashville, we dropped in for a set or two of 'backroom' blues. And though the music was nice and the singer even nicer, the herbal cigarettes eventually drove us out once again in search of noncountry life forms. This last place was kicking. The houseband, Koolbluez had everyone polishing their seats ...and the food and forms weren't bad either! 'Tabatha' worked her magic in a guest appearance with the band as did a couple of other audience members. Tim and I were momentarily married (the nubian guitarist was a witness), and Pat had to be snapped out of Tabatha's trance. Unfortunately a boisterous and rude cigar puffing convention crowd arrived, making it difficult to enjoy the music, much less breathe. So, under the panther's one eyed, cockeyed stare we found our way home.
Many thanks to Chuck and Libby and Jeff for all their arrangements. I trust everyone made it back home safe and sound...(Sonia? Tim?) and hope this is the beginning of a more regular 'tradition'.
-Helen