The Fourteenth Monster Blowout
By Phil Palladino
August 13, 2008
Mid-summer nights become more mysterious at the time of the MONSTER BLOWOUT, an event held annually for the last fourteen summers at our house. About twenty thirty-something people come to our house in the country to celebrate nothing in particular, but especially friendships that date back more than twenty years.
This was the year when Dave and Meredith brought two month old Charles Jonah to the party. Phyllis and I took turns holding the precious little bundle of life, and had our pictures taken. The anxious parents guarded the child from sun and bugs while they enjoyed the repartee of the party, and the great food before they had to leave so they could put little Charles into his own bed for the night. He has just begun to sleep through the night, and the parents did not want to mess with his schedule.
Dan brought a keg of LaBatts, sort of a tradition since one of the founders of the MB is named LaBatt. He tapped the keg an hour or so before the scheduled opening time of the celebration, and the three of us, sat around, relaxing, and enjoying each other and a beer until the "crowd" came. This was a very good time for us. We traded stories of past MBs, counted several times the names and numbers of those who were coming, caught up on events in our lives, and on the world scene.
Soon, the private moment passed with the arrival of Dave, Meredith and Charles. Then, Scott, Paul and big Dan arrived. (We call him big Dan to distinguish him from our Dan who is also big.) They set up their tents in the field, and the party was underway. A young man named Greg came with two ice cream pies for dessert, and soon, Amanda with salads and steaks. More came, Mindy, Andy S. with confections from an Italian bakery in Pawling, NY, Mike and Carrie, Elizabeth, Heather and James and, of course, Pat ambled over from her house.
Dan and Andy found time during the day to test drive the "Sapsucker", a welded trike powered by an old snow blower engine. It had been a labor of fun for many years. Dan and Andy worried little about things going wrong with the apparatus, but they did install a chain guard, just in case. The "Sapsucker" made a few laps in the field with Dan and Andy taking turns, and then the chain broke. The trusty guard prevented a bigger calamity, but ended the day's fun with the "Sapsucker." Eventually it was unceremoniously hoisted back into Dan's truck for a redo in Albany.
In the early hours of the evening, as Phyllis and I relaxed in our den, Mindy came in with a request for a hammer and a number 10 nail, She explained that she was going to do a trick which she had practiced and was qualified to do. I showed her the nails that I had available, and she selected a bright, clean nail, that she said she would wash before she used it. I did not get all the details of the trick, nor did I want them. It involved "hammering the nail up a nostril…." I turned off the explanation at that point, ascertained that she had not drunk too much, advised her to be careful, and she took the hammer and nail cheerfully and eagerly skipped off to show her skill. About half hour later, she returned the nail and the hammer and reported that it went well, and from the reaction of others later in the evening, indeed it had.
As darkness fell, the traditional bonfire was lighted, obeying all the rules that the forest ranger had relayed to me through fire control. (Some lighter fluid like kerosene was used to start it because the wood was damp.) Sparks flew high in the air, and spirits seemed to be just as high. Memories, stories and laughter filled the field. One chair was broken, but no one stepped on any nails this year, nor were there any rose bushes in the pile. When the fire died down, Dan and Andy remembered the old swing in Pat's yard that was slated for burning some time; they carried the swing with great fanfare, and to the delight of all to the pyre. As the fire died down again, the embers provided a warm glow for roasting marshmallows and s'mores.
A few people tired from the days activities and the grog, went off to sleep. As early morning crept in, a strange blast woke me from a light slumber. It was soft, not harsh like a backfire. It did not have the finality of a gunshot often heard in the early morning during hunting season. I quickly donned my robe to investigate. There was nothing stirring outside, just soft voices and laughter from the few stalwart MBers… I thought. I turned to go back to bed, and there was another mild blast. I wasn't sure where it had come from, but there was no commotion, just continued talking and laughter from outside. I assumed all was well, and finally got back to bed.
In the morning, I found out what was going on. Someone had brought a revolutionary war style musket to the party. It was used in re-enactments of that conflict, and was going to be part of a demonstration of the sound and light produced by the musket in the late evening hours. Apparently that demonstration took place at 1 a.m., disturbing my sleep, and that of untold others in the neighborhood. Phyllis and I let it be known that this should not happen at that hour, and declared a sound curfew for next year. There is talk of fireworks after sunset to augment the bonfire.
After explanations, talk of strange dreams, bagels and coffee, and a quick but thorough pick up, the several who had stayed the night dispersed to their homes, still tired, probably with headaches, but with happy memories of the 14th annual Monster Blowout. Will there be a 15th? Time will tell.
