Three Caves Moon Juice

Moon Pie seat cushions. Huntsville Land Trust. Tabled with Dennis, Phillip, Kathy, Henry and the Handi-Ride manager. Table #7. High-power lights, pillow cloud cover and one star peeking out to say hello.

Canvas tents. Grasshoppers and katydids getting free rides. Limestone caves, social strata, aged rocks rocking, silent auction, tiki torches.

Dancing geeks, no togas required.

Fans of southern hues - Miss. St., USF, UA, UT, UGA. Magnolia leaves, Olde Towne Brewing Company (amber and Oktoberfest), Carrabba's Italian Grill.

Stories of people wrecking in the neighbourhood woods. Another going to '82 UT-UA game as photog/reporter for Decatur Daily. Dennis here for birthday tonight, along with 600 of his closest friends, getting a CD of the subdudes as wrapped gift.

Juice's juiced sax playing in the crowd, the drummer and the ensemble like The Commitments.

No famous rocket scientists about but plenty of pocket protector players. Proof once again tonight that a true Southern lady knows the college football scores before her man does, holding it from him like the last drop of Jack or Jim. My team lost but played respectably, 13-23, preventing the highly touted field general from throwing a TD.

On the bus ride from the caves, just who was poking and who was playing, hands hard to see in the dark?

Gotta go back to Miller's store, now under Mary's tutelage, and try the suggested Yeti's or dark Unibroue. Also get down to the Nook, where "OVER 200 BEERS ARE SERVED."

Guess it's time to see how the world is having fun, the G20 gearing up for more gambling sessions in Pennsylvania, I hear. Indonesia and Brazil should get in a three-way race with South Korea to see who gets to play second fiddle to the Big Eight next year. I never laid any mortar on the BRIC alliance, knowing as I do who's keeping whose hands out of someone else's pocket and signalling different plays behind the back - it ain't cheatin', it's bending the rules like a sprig of spring bamboo.