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Where do you have Hairball, which has been around almost since the birth of 24-year-old twins (nonbearded), plus 57th and 30th B-Days (with beards), and even throw in a nine-week-old puppy (with much more than a beard)? I call it a party!

As PepperFest and its rapid-fire-pepper swallowing contests unfolded, there was even Hairball broached, courtesy of a young pet who was all decked out early for the holidays, and not just his birthday. Plus, two twins at 24, and me celebrating my 57th B-Day,  added to such a celebration by a young-looking, just-turned (and decidedly non-grey-beard) 30-year-old, as well as that nine-week-old puppy with (ugly before Xmas) sweater … hey shower us all with birthday drinks:

— Word traveled locally that the popular band rock Hairball was playing the Minnesota State Fair for the first time, as a headliner. That claim could have been made many times over at the former local rock club Dibbo’s, with the needed costume changes being spread out all over both ends of the stage.

— But back to my 57th birthday, which was brightened by meeting two women less than half my age at Dick’s, a pair of 24-year-old twins, Heather and Hailey. The main difference, one with purple hair and the other blonde. And then there was that 30-year-old celebrating his birthday, but only looking about the twins’ age, although his bushy red big beard was in part a giveaway. Had he heard the you-look-no-younger-than-legal-drinking-age before? “Yeah, yeah, yeah, ” he responded, adding that when he occasionally got in a bit of hot water in high school, some questioned whether he really should be junior-high-aged. But when he got as far as the principal’s office, he was met with “yeah we know you.”
— As the garage sale season comes to a close, I had a neighbor buy her new nine-week-old puppy a doggy sweater — but he would have to wait, as this was to be a Christmas gift. Two thoughts on that: (1), as Christians will tell you, Advent prior to the holiday season is a time of waiting, although this would be a long time, and (2) this gift might truly be appropriate later for an ugly sweater contest! That evening, one of my favorite bartenders and I joked that I could have sold my whole estate for a dollar, but only received 99 cents.
— This was a creative approach by a member of a bachlorette party. Rather than the over-the-top stuff as far as an attention getter, she chose something more subtle, a pretty purple flower placed in the drink of people like me. She likely was part of a limo ride that later took patrons into the Freedom Valu Center lot by going in the back way, after a jog down Sommers Street North, or the one that for some reason was seen heading down that very street through a residential area. Now that would be a house party!
— While we are on flowers, here is proof that fertilizer works, at least for a short time, but then craps out. Out for a late night walk to The Village Inn, I noticed that about 20 tiger lilies shown brightly under a street light. They were only about 20 yards down from a “no dog pooping” sign, which was only another 20 yards further away from another such sign. Apparently, there had been some poo that helped the lilies to grow all-of-a-sudden, even though it would require such fertilizer to run uphill! Alas it didn’t last, as the lilies died out — but were replaced in a growth spurt shortly thereafter with a string of yellow flowers, which also died out shortly.
— I didn’t think my Minion shorts were that skimpy. Even a bit more coverage than a basic swimsuit, so I thought. But the clerks at the Freedom Value Center in North Hudson, who can flow with almost anything, teased me with a bit of a bite that I had shown up to buy something wearing only my undies down there. I wonder, would it be viewed differently after midnight if I could blame it on one to many stops at The Village/Kozy Korner/Guv’s Place?
— Speaking of Freedom, it was the last stop, after being downtown, that I saw of a car with what looked like bug-eyed headlights. It turns out there instead were two big ones on each side, complete with what looked like squinty eye corners. This shortly after other eye-catching moments, of a server who sported Frampton Comes Alive-ish, long frizzy orange hair, a patron with a like colored big beard, and a bar manager with bright orange leather pants!
— A guy at one of the last local summer festivals was wearing a boot cast and bandage as he hobbled around. Was his problem something like gout, created in part by be eating too many cheese curds and cotton candy?

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