Washington, D.C. Soirée Report: Toasting Flownover
My husband Mark and I (along with my Dad!) had the pleasure of attending our very first Ricochet soirée. It was awesome. Organized by Mr. Sisyphus, as I'm now calling him, Lucy Pevensie, Casey Way, Basil Fawlty, Jon in DC, Bunky (who is definitely my favorite lurker ever), Layla and her husband Bo (Happy Anniversary, guys!), Master Horace Sisyphus and GLDIII were in attendance. Lucy gets the award for most distance traveled. Possibly by a factor of five or so.
Midway through our party, we got word from our waitress that Flownover had called the restaurant from his secret bunker location somewhere in the middle of the country and paid for our next round of drinks. So we all ordered really old Scotch and then toasted him.
We had a blast. We talked fly fishing, federal workforce management, the surprisingly visceral hatred between air traffic controllers and pilots, dentistry, adoption, the Anglican Communion, Classical education, crony capitalism, and maybe just a smidge of Presidential politics. (Read: 1.5 hours of presidential politics.)
However, I couldn't get anyone else excited about my suggestion that we leave the soirée and road trip to Indiana to "Occupy Mitch Daniels' lawn."
I tried taking pictures with my phone but failed utterly. Jon in DC rescued us with some on his camera. The first one is a picture I took of people willing to be photographed (the mysterious people are kept mysteriously under wraps or between other Rick O'Sheas) and the second is of Layla and Bo and me (and a giant floating fish).
Great meeting you all and I can't wait to do it again!