Whee! Hee! Hee! (Actually, Jeri, what I said was,"Jeri, you're drooling." You took it for the straight line it was, wiped your chin and continued shmoozing.)
What a place it is, where you have to choose between the pleasures of contra dancing, living-room style singing with the Patons, barroom type singing in Creature Comforts (the staff eatery), the sheer variety of music at the 'Chuck's enclave, the (I'm running out of adjectives, folks) variety at the Dharmabum/Kendall/Peg et al (keeping it alphabetical) camp...
One of the treats people forget to mention is Jake, the sign language interpreter for the concerts. He doesn't get any hint of what lyrics are coming up, but he doesn't turn a hair, even when they're singing a round. He could probably handle the sextette from Lucia di Lammermoor.
Hey folks, at least the rain wasn't cold. BTW, the way to get a hot shower at Old Songs is to take it on Monday morning, after breaking camp.
Sandy, you silver-tongued scamp, you said just the right thing when you said you liked my singing. I was never agressive about shoehorning in to lead a song, and I've been out of singing in front of witnesses for too many years; you gave me the courage to actually lead a song with a chorus over at Creature Comforts.
After an *interesting* year, I needed a laugh, and thanks to Artisan, the Arrogant worms, the Berrymans, Joel Mabus, etc., I spent most of the festival laughing my ass off. I don't know if I was delighted, startled, or impressed by the age range of fans for the Worms, but I'd pay admission to be at the preschool program where the innocent grownup has some of these kids; s/he'll say "What does the pig say?" and get a rousing shout of either "He's dead!" or "Shaddup!". (This is from a song about an actual roadside attraction in Ontario called "The Mounted Animal Nature Trail"; think of it as a very low maintenance zoo.)
The only problem I had was that all those workshops and concerts got in the way of my visiting. I didn't hear nearly enough of Peg or Barry Finn, either.
I'm still riding high, but when my soul catches up with my body in a day or two, I expect I'll crash like a ton of mackerel.