The best day: part 6

A sort of group hysteria was escalating. We were having so much fun, and we were all enjoying each other so much, that we found ourselves at this level where everything was funny. Everything was beautiful. We were one. The four of us were one. Nobody was being a drip. Nobody was wishing that the rest of us would stop giggling and snorting and BE SERIOUS. We all were just having a blast. The wine person would set out glasses for us. We all would slowly take sips. I would glance at Michael, and see him pretending to take it seriously … He would have that “look at how serious I am being” face on that he wore during the card-playing extravaganzas … He would nod seriously at the wine person, mutter something about “yes, the smoky aftertaste, right …” and then throw back the entire glass in one gulp.

Because it was Halloween time – at one of the wineries we went to there was a ghost hanging from the ceiling. If you pulled on the ghost, it would make this swooning “Whoooo-hoooo-ooooo-ooooo” sound.

Michael loved Halloween. I think it was his favorite holiday. He loved ghosts and witches and goblins and all that. He was FASCINATED by this rigged ghost. He stood beneath the ghost and KEPT pulling on it so that the “Whoooo-hooo-hoooooo” sound KEPT swooning through the air of the winery. It was almost like he was an autistic child. He could not stop pulling on the ghost. There were other people in the winery, people who actually, you know, took wine seriously, and who were taking tiny sips with no irony, and musing over the bottles … and over in the corner was Michael, pulling on the ghost insistently for, I am not kidding, about 15 minutes.

Laurie had HAD it. She finally said, “Michael … yes … the ghost is cool … PLEASE STOP PULLING ON IT.”

Michael’s response was to call over his shoulder in the general direction of the winery employees (I am literally shaking with laughter as I type this), shouting, “How much for the ghost?”

I can’t take it.

I still can’t take it.

Part 7