TNR Report

It has been a long time since we visited the Junk-shon. It was nice to be back. They are good to us. But we know it is only because we show up with the Cricket. They love the Cricket. We love the Cricket too. We may even go so far as to say we love those who love the Cricket. Which would mean we love the Junk-shon. There was a lot of love flowing around last night. It was dizzying. But it was all held together by the glue that is Cricket love.

Speaking of the Cricket, he was loving the pink ice palace.



He also loved riding on the newly opened river trail.



So did we. But it was pretty slippery. So we mostly stuck to the walking portion of the river trail. Slippery as the icy river was, however, the most treacherous portion of the ride occurred on Wolseley as we made our way over to the klubhaus. We arrived after the snow plows had done their work but before the sanding trucks arrived. This meant that the road, while much wider than it has been in a while, was essentially a sheet of polished ice. It was sketchy. And we almost survived it. But exactly two inches from where the road ends, just before the drop down into Omand's Creek, Jonny G hit the deck. It was not for lack of sufficient light.



The klubhaus was awesome, of course. The Secretary treated us to a passionate rendition of his first encounter with Metric. We discussed the newly initiated sweetest jersey in the world do-over project. Is it possible to make it even sweeter? We believe it is. So confident are we that we are adding shorts to the equation. Jonny G explained to us what comes up, other than our old hard-rocking friends Bernie and Ron, when you type the term "thrillhammer" into google and hit return. Lest anyone get any funny ideas, Jonny G agreed to dig up the video of Bernie and Ron and post it for our viewing pleasure.

As for tunes, one could make a compelling case for regarding last night as the all time best night for tunes we've ever had at the klubhaus. Notice it says "at the klubhaus." By that we mean that it does not include the times we used to sit in the Secretary's Civic in the Crosstown parking lot, after retiring from the klubhaus, eating Big Macs and listening to some U of W late night dj whose name, I think, was Andy. In any case, Ozzy received the most audible series of oohs and ahhs last night. But it was Steely Dan who received the most explicit attention. We lost the Secretary for about five minutes when he became immersed in the Wikipedia article on them.

Good times. Until I lost my keys. But they got good again when I found them stuffed into one of the back pockets of my Nordic Cross jersey. What a strange place for them to be. But better there than inside of the locked up F&H where, for a time, it seemed they might be.