The BBQ shots begin. Here, my dad runs the 'que. He was unhappy with both the charcoals I picked and 'que he had to work with, but as the true professional he is, he perservered. Though he arrived almost 3 hours late, the food made up for it all. Never underestimate the palliative abilities of "the secret sauce."
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Near the end of the bbq, this guy came hunting around our party, looking for bottles and cans to recycle. Unfortunately, he'd been beaten to the punch by a woman who'd arrived twenty minutes earlier on the same mission. It was enough for me to just watch and wait, but my stepmom, god bless her, thought to help the man, "nuh uh, sorry, somebody beat you to it, it's all gone!" To which I had to add, "gotta get up pretty early in the morning to get our bottles and cans".
Yet I applaud this man, his most likely daily search for enough recyclables to make a living. We all gotta make a living.
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I can't even remember how long she's been dating my dad. No, wait, I can. Four years. Four years ago she started dating an old man trying to not be a criminal, with two rascally kids who resented her. And I'll be damned if she didn't pull it off. Oh sure, she's a great mom, keeps a clean house, holds down a full-time job while also looking after her elderly, near invalid mother, never has a bad word to say about anybody, embraces new members of the family, friends, strangers.
But best of all, she can cook like the devil himself, and I'm damn glad to know her. That lemon cake she brought to the bbq? So moist, so tasty. And when some of my friends realized they'd forgotten to bring meat to cook, she jumped right in, offering up chicken. Really good chicken, smothered in my dad's secret sauce.
Mmm, yeah.
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Barbara, my occasional model, showed up with Marcy, my other occasional model, both of them sporting their trademark bubbly demeanors. But of course, on the day I bring three cameras and seven packs of film, neither of them feel like being photographed. So I wait, hiding behind trees, under tables, popping out when I see the chance for a good candid. My efforts were not in vain.
Also, I believe I was the only person Not wearing sunglasses. Only problem with great weather on my birthday, the sun is too much for my friends. So you'll be seeing lots of "people wearing sunglasses" shots from this bbq. Get used to it. I had to.
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This was Megan's first time at the annual bbq. But she didn't have any pie, or any bbq. Matter of fact, there were several people who arrived having already eaten. People, I can't stress enough, when you're going to a bbq, be prepared to eat bbq. You don't go to McDonalds and ask for a taco, you don't go to a basketball game and yell "Touchdown!" when a team scores, and you don't go to a bbq not wanting to eat. Because rules are rules.
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