Bart and Biff: The Sequel

I love sequels. Not just a sequel for the sake of making one mind you, but when a book or TV series really draws me in with rich and vivid characters who I really connect to, I just can’t help coming to the end of the story and thinking to myself, “OK – So then what happened??”

I still long to know if Angel, Spike and Gunn made it out alive, or if Buffy, Willow and Xander are Facebook friends who send each other video clips of Bif Naked "The Lucky Ones" and The Sundays "Wild Horses" and talk about how it reminds them of when they stopped that Apocalypse those 7 times.

As I've moved through each chapter of my life, I've had to close the book on some friendships and characters (and trust me, some of them were definitely characters) who I really loved or connected with deeply. While I believe in life-long friendships (I've had a relationship with my two closest friends for 35 and 20 years respectively), I also believe that some people come into your life for an expressed purpose and once that purpose is fulfilled, the story ends and you both move on. The book goes back on the shelf.

Still, for some of those short lived, yet intense, relationships, I've often found myself wanting to know - "So then what happened?"

This past week, I had the good fortune of unexpectedly running into two old friends, both of whom I hadn’t seen for any significant amount of time in years, but who 25 years ago, both meant the world to me.

First there was Bart. Bart was the younger brother of a high school friend, but he often seemed like my own little brother in those days.

Little Brother Bart
CPHS Homecoming
1982 - College Park, GA

During my senior year of high school, Bart and our friend Ronnie were my two main accomplices in a series of yard rollings the likes of which that CPHS had never seen, as I went about exacting revenge on those that had rolled my yard after a football game that Fall. Bart was a tennis player, but he had the yard rolling arm of Phil Niekro. Where Phil had the knuckle-ball, Bart had some crazy twisted pitch that could hit the highest tree limb, then spiral down perfectly through the branches, then break off and drop the remaining TP to the ground so you could re-pitch what was left and not have any go to waste (we were Green before being Green was cool.) Of course, what Bart and Ronnie didn't know was that I knew the two of them had been in on the original rolling of my yard, so when we finished to last house on my "revenge list" I used the remaining toilet paper they had purchased and went back and rolled their yards as well. (Sorry Dude :-))

Joni and Bart
(He still has that Miami Vice shirt, I'm told)
1985 in Mexico Beach, FL and 2010 at Turner Field, Atlanta, GA

About the time Bart graduated high school, he fell madly in love (as only an 18 year old can) with a sweet girl from our church. There was a little bit of an age difference, and her parents did not want her dating until she turned 16 and even then didn't want her dating an older boy in college. I remember at the time thinking is all seemed so horribly Draconian of the parents - although now, looking at it from the perspective of having a cute blond 15 year old niece who has every Austin, Dustin and Justin in the greater Newnan area chasing after her, I'm total in agreement. (My niece has already been advised that she can't start dating until after she finishes college and gets her degree. Her PhD.)

Bart & Traci
Relaxing on the pier
1984 - Mexico Beach, FL

With Bart in Love Limbo for the next few years, waiting on Stephanie to finally be old enough to date who she wanted, my best friend Traci and I pretty much adopted Bart as our little brother and tried to keep him occupied and entertained. We listened to his tales of woe and tried to make him feel better as much as we could. And we stood guard for Stephanie, so that some slutty college girl wouldn't get her hands on our sweet Bart and take advantage of his depression at not getting to be with the girl he loved.

Joni, Brother Bart and Traci
1985 - Gatlinburg, TN

We took him with us on skiing trips to Gatlinburg in the winter, and to Mexico beach in the spring and summer. He'd take his truck - he called it "Junnin" - so he could blast his Hank Williams, Jr. while Traci and I would follow in the Shelby so we could listen to our New Wave music and Brit Pop (we never could get Bart turned into a club boy.) To this day, I still think of Bart anytime I hear the HWJr song "A Country Boy Can Survive" on a country oldies station. He was the ultimate country boy, just trying to survive until he could be with his true love.

ZZ Top or Tommy, Mark, & Bart
Joni & Traci in front of Junnin
1985 - Mexico Beach, FL

I remember aching for Bart in those days. He was the nicest of guys, a loyal friend, and I just wanted him to be happy. I worried Stephanie might not be as into him as he was to her, or that when they could finally be together, they might find they had nothing much in common. I prayed that when it was all over, that it would have been worth the wait for him.

When Stephanie turned 18, she and Bart took very little time in getting together and getting married. Didn't see too much of him after that. But it was OK, as it seemed like the purpose had been fulfilled. I tried to be a good friend and help keep him occupied when he needed it, and he taught me a life lesson about being patient with grace. My book on Bart was closed.

Then there was Biff. We met at church in the fall of 1984. I still remember when I first spotted him across the sanctuary, and I jotted a note to Traci on an offering envelope that said, "DON'T LOOK, but there is a cute new boy at 10:00." (She probably looked. She ALWAYS looked.)

Now Biff is not really his name. One of my friends was always harassing Traci & I by bestowing unwanted and derogatory nicknames on the guys we dated behind their backs, so he christened him Biff. One of the guys before him had been dubbed Lumpy Rutherford, so really, he got off pretty lightly. And actually, Biff completely suited him. He had that whole 80s yuppie vibe with the perfect Brooks Brothers suits, the accounting firm job at the cool building downtown. Think Michael J. Fox in Bright Lights, Big City, Christian Bale in American Psycho (before the killing spree was evident) or Don Draper from Mad Men had it been set in 1984 instead of 1964.

Church Boy Biff
Sunday School Class Skiing Trip
1985 -Gatlinburg, TN
(Cropped version our church friends saw after the trip)

I think I was going for a nice, straight-laced church boy to cleanse the pallet after getting my heart broken by a rough and tumble, rock 'n roll, rebel type. But little did I know what I was getting myself into. I'm pretty sure that if you Google the phrase "looks can be deceiving" it takes you to a picture of Biff (seriously, though, don't try it cause it takes you to some pretty disturbing stuff), because while he certainly dressed the part of a deacon's son, he was anything but what I was expecting. And in truth, what I was expecting was the last thing I wanted anyway.

The Real Biff
(Uncropped version of Sunday School trip photo above that our church friends never saw)

Biff was all about the aesthetics - the clothes, the accessories, the hair, the music, the food and drink. And the bantering - Lots of witty, sarcastic, cocktail fueled bantering. We were like Nick and Nora for the 80s (just not solving crimes). His outings were well planned and executed. The perfect movie with the perfect theme song, dinner somewhere you'd never been, and the right mix of music on the drive to and from. Except this one time when he took me to see Purple Rain at Westgate which was at the time the worst theater in the sketchiest part of town - which, really dude? What were you thinking?

Abercrombie & Biff
1984 - College Park, GA

His clothing choices were well thought out, right down to the accidental missed belt loop or collar-pop at just the right angle. If he had a hole in his shirt or jeans, you can bet that hole was not an accident of fate, but a very well thought out and strategically placed hole. He would call me before church on Sunday morning to see what I was wearing, so he could coordinate his tie. All this is not to say that he was superficial, because he certainly didn't lack in substance, but he was the classic Leo who liked to look good and liked for you to enjoy looking at him looking good.

I myself was trying on lots of looks in those days - from New Wave, to Preppy, to Punk, and he accepted my edge. But he also got me to understand about dressing appropriately for the occasion (like taking out 3 of your 5 ear piercings when we go to meet Grand-mother for Sunday lunch) and introduced the whole concept of dressing for the position you want instead of the one you have. He helped me pick out a suit for my very first "real" job interview, and he got me started on a respectable work wardrobe once I got the position.

Biff dressing for the position of Indiana Jones
1985 - Dillard, GA

I've had relationships that have lasted a lot longer and have been way more serious, but Biff had an undeniable influence on my world. He gave me a lot of great things that I still have today. And not just material items, although I do still wear the Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses he gave me for my 21st birthday - leave it to Biff to procure an accessory that had such classic style and durable construction that one could retain and use them for 25 years. He introduced me to classic movies from the 40s and 50s, reminded me that Paul McCartney had another band before Wings, and taught me how to mix a cocktail. If my life were a movie, Biff would be credited as the costume designer, musical director, and in charge of craft services.

It's 6 AM, do you know where you are?
1985 - probably Gatlinburg, TN

It was fun for a while, but when it finally ended, it ended badly. I'll not document the sordid details of the final demise of it all other than to say we were young. The fall out from it (for me anyway) could be felt for years, and while he isn't responsible for the walls I've put up in other relationships, he certainly had a hand in helping me secure the construction permits. At this point, Biff's book wasn't merely closed, it was slammed shut and thrown across the room for good measure.

So, then what happened?

Flash-forward to 2010. At a sneak preview party for the new Delta 360 Sky Lounge at Turner Field, as I'm headed to the bar, I hear someone call my name from behind. I turn, and I see Brother Bart. And there, right by his side, was his Stephanie.

Bart & Stephanie
2010 - Atlanta, GA

Their story had the potential to go all kinds of wrong - marrying young, disapproving parents - but it all worked out fine. They have two beautiful teen-aged daughters (I'm betting Bart is understanding his father-in-law a whole lot better these days) and you could just see the love they continue to have for each other in their eyes. It was like Romeo and Juliet had they actually lived - a beautiful end to the story.

And then, same week, while dining at a local pizzeria with a friend, I hear a familiar voice in conversation behind me. And before I ever turned around, I knew it was going to be Biff. Now there was a time when I would have realized it was him, quietly gotten up and tiptoed out of the place as quickly and inconspicuously as possible (and in fact, I have at least twice before that I can recall) but at this point, I was actually happy to see him. And truthfully, even in my anger at him from all those years ago, I have always had a place for him in my heart and hoped he would find something that made him happy and grounded.

Biff & his youngest son
2010 - EP, GA

I've heard enough from mutual friends over the years to know that he's had some highs and he's had some lows, but then a few years ago, he finally settled down and married a girl he knew from high school. It's sort of like he married the cool chick next-door (which is such a Biff thing to do.) They have two adorable sons - the elder of which looks like they just cloned Biff cell for cell. I saw him playing across the way with his little khaki pants and a chambray shirt with that old familiar collar-pop on the one side. The 6 year old little girls of EP better watch out.

It was nice seeing him surrounded by a family he obviously dotes on, and seeing the delight in his eyes as he looked down at his youngest son while introducing us. I've seen him fake and I've seen him real, and this was real. My Biff had found his happy ending.

One of my favorite TV series finales ever was that of Six Feet Under. Through a beautifully done flash-forward in the closing moments of the series, they showed us some key events and final moments in the future of each main character. There were some bitter (Keith being gunned down in a robbery) and some sweet (Claire glancing up across the cemetery during her mother's funeral and seeing her old boyfriend and future husband Ted had come) but when it was over, I knew all I needed to know about what happened next and I was satisfied that in some way they each had found a happy ending.


And for a few moments this past week, I got to flash-forward on two tall, skinny boys from the 1980s and see that each of them found a love and a life that made them happy and fulfilled. And it was a completely satisfying ending.

TiFaux Alert

My friend and honorary cousin via my real cousin, Faith Salie, will be the guest expert featured on tomorrow's Oprah show. The show is about how to handle life's stickiest situations. Faith is a regular contributor to O magazine. She is both brilliant and funny, so I'm betting that it will be a great show. Please watch if you get a chance.

I also found out today that my bestest (and newly retired) work buddy Glenda and her family will be attending a taping of Oprah next week. I hate that they missed Faith by a week, but I am crossing my fingers that the show they are attending will be one of those Oprah's Favorite Things shows where everyone in the audience gets a ton of free stuff, like a refrigerator with a built in TV, a pair of $500 cashmere socks, and a washing machine that criticizes you like my mother does if you wash the dark clothes with the colors.

A Belated Congratulations

Congratulations to my friend Laura and her husband Matt on the birth of Parker.


Isn't he cute? :-)

Memorial Day Remembrance

Every September, at the start of the school year, my father would give me a little talk about the importance of an education.

Part of the talk would always be where he reminded me that as a citizen of the United States of America, I was entitled to receive a free education. He would explain how not all children around the world had this same opportunity, and how little girls in particular were sometimes denied an education simply because of their sex. Finally, he would let me know that while I would pay nothing for my education, many others had paid dearly over the years for this freedom that I enjoyed. He wanted me to be ever mindful of those that paid the ultimate price for me, and how I should never take my education or other freedoms for granted or do anything that would disrespect the lives lost in protecting our freedom.

Each Memorial Day, I think about Dad's yearly reminder, and I give thanks that so many young men and women have given their all to protect our rights, and to help others around the world have the opportunity to grow up with the same right to an education and freedoms that I enjoyed. My great-uncles who served in the Navy and Infantry during WWII, a number of coworkers and neighbors that served in Korea and Vietnam, some friends from high school that served in the first Gulf War and the husbands and sons of friends that currently serve in Iraq and Afghanistan today.

But while so many I know have returned home safely, not all have been so lucky. My friend and coworker Courtney lost her dear son Antoine on April 10, 2004 when his tent was hit by a mortar round at Balad Air Field in Iraq. Antoine was only 20 years old. He left behind a wife and a one year old daughter. Courtney has often said that he just wanted to help people, and make a difference in this world. I believe that he did, and on this day, I honor him.

Thank you Airman Antoine Holt for giving your all so that others might enjoy freedom.

John 15:13 - Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

Day 30 (for real this time)

I thought back to when I first started doing this experiment, just one month ago, and what I was feeling that led me to want to participate in the first place. As I've mentioned (ad nauseum) for the past few months, I've been over worked and sick. Those two things combined have tended to deepen my depression and increase my anxiety, and when that happens, I find myself withdrawing from the world, holing up in my house with the shades pulled down and wallowing in it all. And that makes me feel alone. So when I started this, I was deeply depressed and feeling lonelier than I can recall feeling in many years, and I figured that writing down things that I was grateful for once a day would be cheaper than going back to therapy.

Now that I'm on Day 30, I decided to go back over the last 29 days of gratefulness, in part to prevent any more repeats ala the first draft of Day 29, and in part to see if it helped me at all. And when I did, I began to see a trend. You see, more than half of the gratefuls involved the people in my life - family, friends, neighbors, coworkers. People that I love, and people that I know love me.

Day 30 - 24 May

I am grateful that I am not alone.

Day 28

Day 28 - 22 May

Free tickets on a lower level, company sponsored pregame cook-out, my bestest friend Tony, and a Braves' Victory. Not a bad evening, considering the hellish start to my day.

Plus, as an added bonus, for the first time in Atlanta Braves History, the person sitting behind us at the game was not an irritating ass. Hey, after 20 years of Tony and I attending games together, fortune was bound to shine on us at least once.


Must resist making obvious joke.

I am grateful for my friend Tony.

It would take hours to make even a dent in a list of all the things that he has done for me over the years. But probably the best thing is that he can always make me laugh. And today, I really needed to laugh.

Days 25 and 26

Day 25 - 19 May

I am grateful that my friend Nathan is safe following back surgery.

I'm not sure if it is because my friends and I are all getting old, or if my friends are just an unhealthy bunch, but it seems as though I've had a number of people close to me that have undergone surgery or developed some type of serious illness lately. But no matter what the reason, I am grateful that so far, all have come through safely. While there may be long recoveries and lots of pain pills in their futures, I am thankful that recovery is still an option for all of them.

Day 26 - 20 May

I am grateful for unplanned gatherings.

If you know me, you know that I watch too much TV. I'm working on that, but this week and next are all the season finales, so sue me if I don't start until after next week's episode of Lost. Tonight was the final competition on American Idol, and by 7:59, I was in my PJs, settled into my big comfy chair, with my Diet Coke in my left hand and the remote in my right. And then another hail storm hit, my power went out, and the TV with it. Within moments, the power came back, but it appeared that it was going to be at least a half hour until my satellite came back up and rebooted itself.

Cue my neighbor's Kirk and Randy, who have a back up power source on their TV and satellite, and opened their doors to me and the other neighbors who were in the same boat. Next thing I knew, I was crowded onto their couch in my PJs, with a fresh drink in one hand and American Idol on the TV. And really, it was so much more fun to watch it with a group than it would have been to watch it alone.

Day 15

Day 15 - 09 May, 11:13 p.m.

I am grateful that my best friend Traci made it through surgery OK.

Days 9, 10, 11 and 12

Let’s see now – where was I?

Oh yes, being grateful.

That is, until I got too busy at the big D, had to work 14 days straight (the last couple of those being 10 and 12 hour days). So now, let me see if I can catch up on my gratefulness.

Day 9 - 03 May

I am grateful for the upcoming raises my company announced this past week.

Trust me, after working as much as I have in the last little bit (and as something that repeats every 3-4 months) I am not paid nearly enough.

Day 10 - 04 May

I am grateful that I survived.

Day 11 - 05 May

I am grateful that I got to sleep undisturbed until noon on my first day off in way too long.

Day 12 - 06 May, 11:05 p.m.

I am grateful that my true friends and most loved family members do not give me grief when I disappear from their lives for weeks at a time when work gets crazy.

They understand that I love them, care about them and send good vibes to them even when they haven’t asked (or maybe they have asked, but I just haven’t gotten around to reading all of their emails or catching up with their blogs to know that they have) and that I would much rather have spent the last three weeks enjoying their company, rather than spending all of my time at work.

Day 8

Day 8 - 02 May, 11:14 p.m.

I am grateful that I have kind neighbors.

As I mentioned previously, I've worked the last 12 days straight, and will probably have to work tomorrow and Sunday too. But when I got home tonight, my grass had been cut, my yard edged and my hanging ferns on the front porch had been watered.

In the game of good neighbors, I'm currently 3 for 3.

Day 6

Day 6 - 30 April, 11:59 p.m. (OK - I'm cheating, so sue me.)

I am grateful for truly good friends I have made at past jobs.

Although I've only worked for 4 different companies over the span of my work life, I've held 15 different positions in about 10-12 different departments. And at each job, I've tended to make a close friend or two along the way. You know, the person or people who you share lunches and breaks with, discuss who got booted off whatever reality show last night with, complain about the office crazy person/awful boss with, celebrate good times with, bond over bad times with, play secret Santa with and for the most part, spend more waking time with than you do your own family. These coworkers are like your second family.

And then you get a new job.

In most cases, after promising to keep in touch, you slowly lose track of them, only occasionally bumping into them at the mall (especially if one of the former jobs was at the mall), then seeing them only enough to recognize that they look familiar, but not really remembering their name, until they are completely gone from your mind, other than maybe vaguely recalling that sweet guy who worked on the shipping dock who you use to go to each lunch with down at the lake by the nearby cemetery (for real - it was pretty and peaceful) back in the early 90s.

But then there are the ones that you never forget. They are people who move beyond the place of being a lunch partner because they are convenient, and become one because you genuinely enjoy their company. People who you still make a big effort to see or keep in touch with, even when it becomes difficult because they quit the company, moved out of state, or had kids and just don't have a lot of free time.

Tonight I had a call from one of those friends. Cynthia and I worked together at SunTrust. We were in the same work pod, had the same break and lunch schedule, and even carpooled for a while. Then she got a job at Delta, but we still remained friends. And once I went to work at Delta, it became easier again. While we never worked in the same building, we would still make a point to get together for lunch, take an occasional day trip or go to a hockey games. (She had season tickets.)

Then one day, I had to cancel plans to go to a hockey game with her at the last minute. Another friend suggested she take a guy the friend knew that loved hockey. And the next thing you know, Cynthia and this guy were married, moving to Florida and having a baby. See - sometimes me flaking out on a friend has a happy ending after all.

Anyway, the point is, I'm glad that I still have friends like Cynthia, and Bonnie, and Connie, and Laura, and Stacy Aylse, and Glenda and Kim. People who made the days at those various jobs bearable, and who are still worth remembering and holding dear, even if it has been way too long since I've seen some of them. I love them all, and will always appreciate what they brought to my life.

Oh - and just so you know, I still remember shipping dock/cemetery guy's name. I could never forget shipping dock/cemetery guy.

Heeeeeeerrrrrrreeeeeesssss Tony!

You remember back in the olden days, when Johnny Carson would need to take a night off to tend to something, like a divorce or something, The Tonight Show would have a guest host? Well, tonight my blog is being hosted by one of my oldest and dearest friends, Tony Mc. He's like a combination of David Letterman and Joan Rivers without all the plastic surgery. Well, other than the JLo shelf booty he had installed a few years back.

So ladies and gentlemen, here's my week according to Tony.....

"Guest blogger speaking for Joni.

She had an okay week. Getting up and going to work sucks. If it weren't for the fact that she enjoys life, she would kill a few co-workers. Not a few maybe just one. But as you all know Joni's too pretty for jail. The last thing she wants is a girlfriend on the inside plus there is no tivo in the big house.

Joni caught up or watched her fav. reality shows on tivo. American Idol, some fashion/modeling/cooking competition show, and a show or 2 that has a celebrity or multiple celebrity trainwrecks. She considers herself to be in much better shape than the celeb trainwrecks but then again who doesn't. Cause no one want to end up like Jeff Conaway... EVER!!!

Joni will be celebrating Easter by sleeping in, then joining the family for dinner at her parents house. It will be pleasant. Thankfully Joni will have her niece and nephew there to amuse her.

Joni hopes that we all are doing well and have a great Easter. And remember to wipe and stay off the pipe cause she's chilling!!"

March 23, 2008 11:41 AM

Thank you Tony - Amazingly, that was fairly accurate, although FYI - the Celeb Rehab program is over , and I have no desire to watch aging musicians spread STDs to strippers or Z-Listers lose weight. But nevertheless, you are a worthy substitute. I promise that when I decide to retire from my blog, I won't give this gig to some pointy-chinned loser instead of you.

Love to all and Happy Zombie Jesus Day. (tm Tony Mc.)

24 Hours in Vegas

Anyone that knows my parents knows that they love going to Vegas. Over the years, Vegas has hosted many of our best family vacations. Mom and Dad saw Elvis there in the 70s. I was too young to go to that one, so my consolation price was to see the Osmonds - from the front table no less. We've also seen Wayne Newton (he kissed my Mom, it was a hoot), Bill Cosby, George Wallace (the comedian, not the politician) and various versions of the Supremes and Temptations with at least some of the original members, and at least one show that featured some topless showgirls which was horribly embarrassing to be seeing with my parents. This summer, my nephew and I even got to see the one year anniversary performance of the Cirque du Soleil show Love with Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr in the audience too.

One would think that as often as Mom and Dad go that they are some type of high rollers, but that really isn't the case at all. My Mom is more into playing the penny slots, and Dad just likes to enjoy relaxing in the spa area or enjoying a cup of coffee while people watching.


But, since they have been going to Vegas and staying at the Flamingo Hotel exclusively since the 1960s, they are elite level members of the hotel frequent stayer/player program, and therefore they are offered all kinds of free rooms, free entry into slot machine tournaments and many other assorted comps. So - they can get there free, stay there free, eat free and play free. So it is basically cheaper than staying home. (Here they are enjoying the free breakfast buffet.)


They left late Christmas afternoon on their most recent trip, and I decided that if I took a vacation day Friday, I could leave after work on Thursday and join them for a 24 hour mini-vacation. I was a little worried about getting there, as there were no standbys getting on any of the earlier flights to Vegas, but I lucked out and arrived in time for the one flight that had plenty of room for us all. I even got the coveted bulkhead seat and an empty seat next to it. Which was great, because my knee was killing me after walking all the way to Gate A2 at the end of the concourse terminal. (Why is my flight always at the last gate?)

By the time I arrived, I found out that my parents had run into my best Delta friend Glenda and her husband Larry.


Glenda and I have talked about making a trip to Vegas at the same time for years, and it never worked out. And yet, without knowing it, we both ended up there at the same time and stumbled across each other randomly. We were even on the same flight coming back home, where we all got in first class (YAY!) which hardly ever happens anymore.

Mom won $50 in the tournament, but that was about the only luck we had gambling. But, you really aren't gonna get rich playing penny slots anyway. But it is still nice to dream.

We took the midnight flight home, and arrived in Atlanta at about 6:30 in the morning, and I was fast asleep by 7:00. And for the most part, I've pretty much been asleep since then. So maybe this post should have been named "24 Hours in Vegas, followed by 24 Hours in Bed."

New Christmas Tradition??

This year, most of my friends and family have had a tough time financially. Between divorces, new business start-ups, pay cuts, new home purchases, etc. taking the time and money to go out and purchase Christmas gifts for each other was a little tough to think about. So one of my friends (either Scott or Doug, not sure which) came up with the idea that among our group of 7 friends and neighbors, we would instead all get together, go out and have a fabulous meal at a nice restaurant and that would be our gift to ourselves and each other.

The restaurant chosen was The Hil at Serenbe. Serenbe is a new (way swanky) community about 35 miles south of Atlanta. It has sort of a Stepford Wives feel to it. But in a good kind of way. If that makes sense.

The road down to Serenbe is completely dark and foreboding. And it was raining. So of course, we would end up making a wrong turn and find ourselves on a creepy road, complete with a small, dark church, which only freaked us out a little more. (Shades of Peters Road and Devil's Church from my teenage years.) Doug kept talking about how if this was a B-Movie, that the audience would at this point be shouting "Turn around, turn around." So, as would happen, almost the minute those words were out of his mouth, we suddenly hit the end of the paved road and found ourselves bumping along on a dirt road in the woods, all frantically searching for one of three cell phones in the car that hopefully still had a signal. (I won - yeah Cingular/AT&T).

Fortunately, we all made it out alive and dinner was awesome. My steak was done to perfection, the dessert fabulous, heck, I even partook of wine and cocktails - something that I rarely do. (Thank God for Photoshop - I was able to tone down the red in my nose in this shot of Todd and myself.)

Yes, a wine glass was broken by someone in an overly enthusiastic toast, but really, with this group it isn't actually a good party until someone breaks something. And while I'll not say who broke the glass, I will provide a hint.

Our total bill was over $400, which I think may have been a record for the group. But, it was still cheaper than trying to find 6 gifts for a group of people with exceptionally good (and expensive) taste. Plus I still have leftovers, so tonight's dinner was covered.

Anyway, here is the group following dinner (minus Scott, who took the picture, but is pictured above, giggling with Doug.) It was raining and we were outside in the dark, so the quality sort of sucks. Someone may have had too much to drink - can you guess who?

If you guessed all of us, you would probably be correct.