Septuagenarians Know How To Bust a [hip] / by LD

"Taylor Swift? Who is Taylor Swift? I'll tell you what's swift - my IBS!"

I realize the true hilarity in this post lies in the incongruity between the subject at hand (old folks) and the fact that this is a blog, on a computer, and that in order to recap my weekend I have to break character to admit that, yes, I know how to surf the Internets. I'd write this post in painfully florid longhand that only grandchildren know how to read, would take too long. Plus, my arthritis is acting up in this cold weather. Bah! Where's my G&T when I need it...

If you couldn't gather from the title, this weekend was filled with prunes, Milk of Magnesia, Fox News, sensible pumps, and too, too, too much rouge. The dearest and estimable B.W. McCracken turned 27 last week and rather than the usual cloistered-hipsters-swilling-PBR birthday party, he opted to invert those numbers and throw a 72-year-old's party. There were game and puzzle stations, as well as a Complain Station wherein folks could gripe about Obama and Kids These Days. Jessica Kemp [chef!] was in charge of food (think manchego-and-pecan-stuffed prunes, covered in chocolate and sprinkled with bacon, meatloaf sliders, and a very special chicken fried steak dish), and I was in charge of beverages (I'll write separately about this). The whole thing was a riotous good time (as rambunctious as a bunch of old coots can be, of course), and a perfect way to celebrate Mr. McCracken's 27th.