The annual event of the Derby Eve Schnitzelburg Slither is this Friday night. My brother in law and his best friend host this annual event. What it all means is this. 50 to 70 of their closest friends gather in the area of Louisville know as Germantown. At the appointed hour and place, they eat pizza and drink a few cold ones to loosen up. The money changes hand, the tickets and passes are issued and the whole brigade takes off walking the tiny streets of this blue collar area following a guide as we march from one neighborhood bar to the next.
This takes all night. Or at least until the last bar is reached usually around 2 to 3 am. Actually, this is a blast. Drinking rot gut beer (can you say Falls City? Can you say Pabst Blue Ribbon?), staggering down streets to the tune of barking dogs and people muttering, "What the Hell?" to find the next small bar. And they are small. And our group will overwhelm a bar in no time. My favorite are the karaoke bars. Not that I sing, but I sing along. We have been known to climb on table tops and dance to Princes' "P***y control". We are rolled down the sidewalks in shopping carts. We cry, we laugh and then we all come back to do it again the next year.
My problem...My dilemma? I laid on the couch the whole next day feeling like I had been run over by a Mack Truck. I consumed an entire pot roast and the fixings trying to make myself feel better. It took three days. I began to feel like myself on Tuesday. Then my gall bladder began to ache, and has not been itself ever since.
I want to go. I don't want to miss out. I want to sing along with "You never call me darling, Darling, you never even call me by my name" at the top of my lungs.
But maybe, just maybe.....I've outgrown that type of fun. Nah!
P.S. The above picture is from last years "crawl". My sister Omega is on the extreme right with her husband, K.