Willow Halloween Party 2013
Oh, OK. So we were sitting on the back deck overlooking the pastures. The raging waters of the recent hurricane remnant have retreated. I wondered if there was anything to give out, just in case tricker-treaters showed up at Refuge Farm.

The general consensus was that none had been observed in the last decade, and given the circumstances of this plague and politics year, it was unlikely that any responsible parent would dispatch their progeny up the dark lane through the trees to claim some. So, we expect nothing untoward this night, and I had to cast my memory back a few years to the last time Halloween really meant something.

It was at Willow, of course, restauranteur Tracy O’Grady’s greatest contribution (so far) to the survival of Western Civilization. I forget what we were worried about then, but looking over my notes from that raucous romp brought back memories of good pals, wild dreams, excellent drinks and cascading laughter.

At this last date, I am not going to even try to tell the story. There is plenty of stuff elsewhere crying out for examination- like that election bearing down- and I just don’t have the energy to pursue any of them with sufficient humor to make it fun. So, let’s take a look at something that was fun for the ages.
The all-stars of the Willow staff are all here, with one interloper. Jon-Without was asked to step behind the bar and help manage the patrons. He was thrilled.

Willow had a Bootlegger’s theme this year for the party. I decided on “Mac the Knife.”

Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear
And it shows them pearly white
Just a jackknife has old MacHeath, babe,
And he keeps it out of sight.
You know when that shark bites with his teeth, babe
Scarlet billows start to spread.
Fancy gloves, though wears old MacHeath, babe
So there’s never, never a trace of red.
On a sidewalk, blue Sunday mornin’
Lies a body oozin’ life
Someone’s sneakin’ ’round a corner
Tell me, could that someone be Old Mac the Knife?
There’s a tugboat down by the river, don’t you know?
Where a cement bag, just a’drooppin’ on down
Yes, that cement is there strictly for the weight, dear
Five’ll got to gift you ten Old MacHeath’s back in town.
D’ja hear ’bout Louie Miller? He got disappeared
After drawin’ out all his hard earned cash
And now MacHeath spends just like a sailor
Could it be our boy done somethin’ rash?
Jenny Diver, yeah, yeah, Sukey Tawdry
Hello Miss Lotte Lenya, good evening Lucy Brown
You know that line forms, way on the right, babe
Now, that MacHeath’s back in town.
Look out, Old MacHeath is back

Brenna was at her mischievous best behind the bar. That is Amaretto in Heather’s flask.
Too bad I am not working these day. This is a power suit- just the ticket for operating in this bizarre town!
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