Pat and Bill's 25th wedding anniversary celebrated with Bollinger champagne (we made them pay for it) and Indian food, with Caleb on their left as designated driver. Also Doris' birthday (at right, with If-Only-She-Were-Thirty-Years-Older Maggie on the left). In Canada, birthdays are celebrated over several time zones, so Saturday Doris has invited 200 people to a bar holding a maximum of 60 while telling them to expect 20. I am arriving early enough to have my Guinness well in place before the fire starts. Also my first introduction to the Reverend Doctor Erika's beau and new fiancee, social activist Mike (shown here with beard and Opti-Grab) which makes, at last count, seven or eight Michaels of various ages, consanguinity and sexual proclivities in our circle of friends, with myself and Michael M., one of us Marvel and the other DC, Batman and Spider-Man, gay and straight, cozy as a pair of gargoyle bookends. So far the record is five at one table during the Medieval Congress. The single photo of myself at this fete will not be posted. It was taken by Patricia in that lovely Guinness moment when you're delighting yourself with a profound poetic or philosophical insight even if no one else thinks so, and my face looks like Billy Gilbert as Joe Pettibone in a performance of Ionesco's "Rhinocerous".

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