Memories from the weekend;

The timing of this year’s event was a first, with early summer being well ahead of our usual annual summit meeting for aging assholes.  This year’s well planned event, organized by Scott Cruise, was our 29th, and like all before it, had its own unique twists and turns. Accommodation was at the lovely Whitestone Lake Resort 

http://www.whitestonelakeresort.com/index.php

Starting Thursday nite as has become the custom for those who have control over the lives, were the Chairman, Mowbs, Scotty M., Beaups, and Leo.   Other than an illegal ice machine raid at main lodge, there was no reported  nastiness and judging from the state of the main party cabin and the number of empties – including the ¾ dead Captain Morgan bottle which became an important prop throughout in the weekend– it was par for the course.  

Speaking of golf, the boys spent Friday having a nice game of golf at the local high end course while the rest of poor saps  were winding our way north –  geez, I guess some guys are (1) smarter,   (2) better organized,  or (3) just plain lucky.  Meanwhile later that day, Floyd and  I were patiently waiting back at base camp, hoping the seven of us would have dinner at the lodge, but little did we know that we were competing with the young lovelies who were serving them back at the 19th hole.  In the end, it didn’t matter as we had drink, smoke, and mosquitos to keep us company.  At this point we learned that Cookie was unfortunately a last minute cancellation due his father’s illness.

Eventually,   Daryl and Gary rolled into the resort and we were officially underway.  Skinny Pirates (Captain Morgan being the 10th attendee at this year’s event) provided the lubrication for debriefs on the previous 12 months, including discussions of getting older, and various ailments now been endured.  The rain made for a fairly sad bonfire – or at least a slow starting one – but in the end, spirits were not dampened as, like all Friday nights, there is plenty of fire in everyone present (one too many metaphors?).

The plan for Saturday was to partake in the main event which was a scenic tour of the surrounding area with Rainbow Airways. in a 4 seater 1940’s Beaver aircraft. The aircraft is owned and operated by a former Air Canada captain of 35 years. http://www.rainbowairways.ca/ However, weather was touch and go so it was put off until the next day.  Instead,  it was off to the golf course for nine holes of torture (from my point of view) although the winners (Daryl,  Cruiser, Beaups) I’m sure enjoyed the outing.

That night we had our group dinner at the lodge, which was uneventful until a couple of perky young things came over to flirt with us.  We were unsure of whether they were there because of a dare (“Try to get a rise out of the old men over there!”) or were  temporarily bored with their muscle-bound, male friends.  Whatever, we all intrigued, and even more so when they showed up at out bonfire later that night.  And the timing was perfect because droopy eye lids suddenly became wide-eyed as these two bubble-bottomed teens – Erin and Mackenzie - started to prance around the fire.  Problem was,  their conversation was hard to follow, as the subject matter was stuff that was either too technical (how to do certain stuff with your smart phone), too teepy boppy  (“want some tits and ass toast?”), or simply clouded by all the beers they had before working up the nerve to come over to our place.  But one thing we did have in common was a fondness for Captain Morgan.  Mackenzie later did honour to the Captain and struck the iconic pose for a photo shoot session whilst admiring our tacky trophy.  We also learned that night about the potential dangers of social media (aka Facebook), especially when the smart phones – with cameras – come out.  Fortunately,  it was all innocent fun,  and we all learned more about the importance of privacy settings.

Later that night,  the girls’  men friends came looking for them (and some free beer), but didn’t hang around long once it was determined (1) we were no threat to steal their girls and (2) no beer was offered.  All in all, though, it was a fun night, and Gary Dines missed all the action, having done himself in with tea at dinnertime...a decision that almost earned him AOTW honours, but not quite (see below).  But it did spawn a discussion of a bedroom activity called ”tea bagging”,  which, in hindsight, could  have pumped up the campfire conversation and earned us a little more respect from  the boys.

Sunday morning came through with great weather, which meant out scenic fly-over with Rainbow Airways was on.  This small vintage float airplane, still used to hall lumber and drugged up bears as well as tourists, took us in groups of three for a 15 minute ride over the surrounding lakes, nooks and crannies.  Aside from the good fun, it also impressed our camp fire visitors from the night before who were gathered around the beach watching the proceedings.  We might be old, but we’re still a good time.  (Plus we had better cars than their boyfriends)

Since some guys had to get going, we paused during one of the fly-overs to cast our votes.  Turns out  it was quite close as, noted earlier, Gary’s antisocial ways had  earned him a not insignificant number of votes (5),  but in the end the trophy and responsibilities went to the hands-down best organizer for the next year which is to be our 30th  - Mowbs.   Again,  well done Cruiser and we know we are in good hands for next year’s historic event.   Rod,  start saving now!   John,  Guy, Rob, Steve, Mel...attendance is mandatory.

(p.s.  This summary comes seven months after the fact – and my memory is very average -   so please submit any corrections/ missing terms/elements to the Webmaster.)

Attendees:

Cruiser, Adam Ant, Mowbs, Beaups, Boomer, Freud, D,  Gare,   Harps

Video Of the weekend