By now, Will, Chuck and I had become as close a friends as
you can get. The first evening we pub crawled Charleston. If you've never been
there, make it a bucket list item. Sometime that evening we were in Will’s car
and there was really funky contemporary bluegrass on the radio. I asked who was
playing and Lynne chimed in with “This is ‘Leftover Salmon’ and we’re seeing
them tomorrow night, wanna come?” Umm, can I think about that for a second?”
The following evening began with Marguerites at Wills house
and grew. The band didn't come on until late, we were well pickled by then which
made the music all the more enjoyable and great to rock to.
Chuck and I were
dropped off at the marina in the wee hours of the morning only to be confronted
by large locked gates…. “Sorry Chuck, we’re going to have to climb” I said and
so we did.
Pickled as, we somehow managed to get over these huge gates and into
the marina. Chuck went one way, I went the other. I climbed into bed wondering
where Chuck actually went when it dawned on me. We had moved the boat during the day and Chuck had no
idea where we had moved it to. Ah well, he’ll figure it out… zzzzzz
When I finally woke late morning, I noticed something
written on my hand… 1247# and it all came back to me.... Really sorry Chuck!
My final exam was written over a greasy hangover curing
breakfast, Will drove me to the airport and I flew home having had the most
amazing experience, just as Phil Berman had promised.
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