Good morning. Barely.
Third Sunday’s belong to Geoff Sargent, but Geoff gave his slot this month to Lucy Smith in order that she might use the space to report on the CBA’s IBMA involvement this year, Lucy being the Czarina of that activity, but the dear woman wasn’t quite ready with her report (which will be posted on Tuesday instead) and so Lucy passed the ball to me, who’s been sicker than a damned dog since Monday with a throat so infected that it’s swollen to the size of a telephone pole, diameter, not length, which in turn meant that I could not attend the Fall Campout, my absence breaking a fifteen year perfect attendance record, which in turn meant that I was not ABLE TO VOTE, which broke a decades long perfect voting record (woe is me) and which also meant that I was not at the organizational meeting last night where results of the election was officially reported, (Maria Nadauld…with whom I was next door neighbors, she being the sister of Brooks Judd, from age six months until I was old enough to drive away…and the ten incumbents won the election) nor was I able to attend the board’s first meeting of the Association’s new calendar year (we run from October to October, more or less), which (pardon me while I dab the tear from my cheek) is finally proof positive and beyond the slightest doubt that the California Bluegrass Organization can do JUST FINE WITHOUT RICK CORNISH, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!
In other news, I’m told that the camp out was one of the best ever, huge turnout, great dinner last night, jams up the wahzoo and…I’m sorry, I just can’t go on. I must lie down and grieve for a while.
Bert’s up tomorrow, folks, have a great new week.