Aftermath

Last night, I attended a celebratory dinner for the color guard in which my daughter participates. The event was quite nice, and the location was spectacular. More about that, later.

There were about a hundred fifty people fairly crammed into the room where the potluck dinner was being held. What a pot! The table with the 'real' food was about two feet wide and stretched for about thirty feet, solidly packed -- salads (including our delightful Strawberry Salad with feta cheese and slivered almonds; yum), tons of fried chicken, courtesy of the kitchen at WalMart (who knew they sold that stuff?) , cold cut trays, and four or five different kinds of meatballs, including some that were easily as good as ours (lacking only the cheese that we think makes ours special). That last is what I scarfed up on, making myself two meatball subs to go along with that salad. And, of course, desserts, the good news of which was that its dedicated table was ten feet from us, the bad news of which was that the girls found it very quickly. I didn't have any, but it was not for lack of trying.

They showed videos of the year, and various candids, while people ate, and afterwards they gave out awards. My daughter won 'Most Improved', which, given that she was working with the Junior Guard, the youngest, is sort of like kissing your sister, but it came with a teddy bear, so she was happy - and both my wife and I got a nice little giftie for helping out (I was quite surprised, as all I did was come once, but what the heck). And then, the speeches, about which I will just say the line that I repeated a couple of times on the way home: I love you guys! I love you guys!

Man, but teenage girls can get emotional. Crying and sobbing and gasping... Guys are different. Guys would have just gotten up there and said "Um..thanks. " And then muttered something obscene to the person standing next to them.

Though there was the one girl who said that when she first met the guard instructor, she seriously thought that there was something mentally wrong with her. That's a guyish comment. But by the end of the year, she said, she had three numbers on speed dial: her mother, her boyfriend, and that instructor.

And then there was.... the location. O. M. G.

The event was held in a meeting room of what we call the supermegachurchplex -- a huge building that we'd driven by several times, but never been into. It's owned by a local Evangelical Free Church which used to be in a relatively small building, and decided that they needed room to grow. Right now, they have enough room to grow for the next, oh, four hundred years. Its a massive rectangular building with a central core housing the church proper, and a series of function rooms around the outside, including three different food stations (including a complete kids cafeteria), classrooms, offices, a gymnasium, a large auditorium, a helipad...okay, no helipad. The walkway around the central core is about, oh, a quarter mile, maybe a bit less. All of it gleaming.

It is, if you're a church architect, to die for.

Oh, and this morning? Eyes popped open way too early.... so I DTBd. Again. It would be nice if I lost some weight, but what the heck. Its likely good for me, anyway.