1) My hoary old maxim "For maximum fun potential, arrive early" served me in good stead as I appeared at Tea shortly after it opened at 4 PM to pay my cover, get stamped, and head home to change. That way I could waltz in with my friends who all have townie passes. Returning at 5:30, the line for admittance stretched to infinity. Someone later told me they only had to wait ten minutes. I only had to wait 45 seconds. Schadenfreude, party of one!
2) As might be expected on the Saturday before a High Holy Day like July Fourth, Tea was packed. With the lines at the bar already too long, I stopped at the front table for one of the Boatslip's famous Planter's Punches. And ended up choosing the slow bartender. Still, those things are lethal.
3) One never knows who one will meet at Tea, but I ran into my luncheon companions, old friends from the beach, and even a rarely-seen professional colleague. All that said, Tea, as it is so often, is a lot of standing around, and I really didn't mind peeling off five minutes before closing time.
4) After a light dinner at home, Hochmina and I strolled down Comical Street, in part so I could get some ice cream. It appears that B** & J****'* has rejiggered my beloved Urban Bourbon into Bourbon Brown Butter, which makes an excellent hot fudge sundae. Om nom nom.
5) We observed the passing throng from benches by Town Hall, and I reflected that it's only been in the last ten years that so many street musicians have infested P'town. Before Ellie the P'town Showgirl (now enchanting the angels lo these many years), I felt like there was nothing. Now, we get almost no rest: children squeaking away on violins, folk singers, a country (?) trio in front of Town Hall, and even a handsome young accordionist. (I didn't imagine anyone so young played the accordion.)
6) "The passing throng" tonight was made up of more than just thirtysomethings with impressive arms and shoulders. Tourists of all types and conditions . . . mercy, it was as though the entire Cape had collected here.
7) Snugly ensconced at home since 10:30, engrossed in various recordings of the Sextette from Lucia di Lammermoor (of which more later), and completely happy.
2a) In the words of the late Gloria Swanson, "Wonderful shoulders! I love that line."