Chilifest 2006

You blog a couple of things, and people actually complain when you don't blog about something right away. I am not a public service and you can't tell me what to do unless you're my wife, and the only two people I've proposed to are Pooteewheet and Tall Brad. It was Tall Brad's Chilifest, so I guess he might have the right...oh well.

Note the new, but temporary, poll on the right hand side of the blog. This is a direct result of the Chilifest. Klund's wife, who lives in St. Peter, noted to Mean Mr. Mustard during the later part of the evening that "some people" don't know why there are Pearly Gates in St. Peter, Minnesota. Mean Mr. Mustard noted that those people were dumb. Klund, not fully aware of the conversation added that Ms. Klund hadn't known why there were pearly gates. So, Mr. Mustard had just called her dumb. He may have called her ignorant. He was still backpedaling hours later, and the last thing I heard that evening was him still apologizing on the sidewalk one more time as everyone was leaving.

Otherwise, there's not much I can add that hasn't happened at a chilifest before. There was peeing in the backyard (maybe that hasn't happened before...but it's really suprising it hasn't - it was really rather cherubic, like an Italian fountain), lots of chili (no third place for Pooteewheet this year, her bucket of tequila-flavored meat only garnered a first place vote from one drunken chilifester), some impressive thunderstorms and search lights that skirted the fest on the three sides, and the annual win by someone from another state (North Dakota - they all just vote for each other. It doesn't help Brad uses Diebold to record and tally the votes).

I'm posting just a smattering of pictures. If anyone needs copies of any of them, or a picture of anyone in particular, I can shake an original up from the drive. Flat Monica gave me her copies and I have my own, and I'll be giving Brad copies of what I have so he can post them on whatever super-sweet mondo site he has courtesy of Mac.

Here's Christy and "Squirrel". This is not the closest Squirrel got to someone this fine Chilifest 2006 afternoon. She and her husband were a little late to the party, which got many nudges and winks, particularly as they showed up an hour and half after another couple who had been at the same pre-party events. Christy showed up so late she missed getting her chili voted on...who knows where she was. But if she was three times as late, it must have been three times as racy. Note that there are no pictures and no mention of The Boss, who was going to come, but couldn't. In the past, Chilifest has conflicted with his Sexy Duluth Weekend with his wife. This year it moved and he could go, but cancelled for a date night with her at the last moment - after all these years, he's like Pavlov's Dog, or like the wife in Tristram Shandy, the mere idea of Chilifest puts him in a sexy mood. Obviously, that's the truth for a wide swath of attendees - you just have to fit it in.


Christy and Ty. Monica loves the posed photo. Usually you can tell if a photo is mine because if it's posed, the person doing the posing is acting like an idiot (and is usually me). There is simply no way to tell that Christy is at a chilifest, just posed in a previous picture with somone who may have been seeing some skyrockets in flight, or is thinking crabby thoughts at me for taking candid photos...it just doesn't come across. Chilifest is simply not about wholesome family fun...it's about children peeing in your walking space, calling your friend's wife ignorant, and burnt children...really, just keep following the photo trail.



Daryl and wife. I think I posted a picture two years ago where he looked stoned and drunk all at once. I figure I owe him a nice one.


Squirrel, Pooteewheet, Eryn and Ms. Klund all hanging out around the firepit.


Ming and Logan sharing some chili.


Ming tries to get Logan to eat a "taffy" skeleton.


Mean Mr. Mustard two fisting it. One has beer, the other was used by a cherubic, peeing child...guess which is which Mr. M!


Eryn flashing gang signs. That's a "C" for chill-ay.


Scooter trying to feed Eryn a "taffy" skelton. Scooter's pop trying to pretend like he doesn't want any chili although the real issue is he's not allowed to have any. He was nice enough to take Eryn home for bed so Pooteewheet and I could hang out until the party closed sometime after 11:00. Both he and Mr. Mustard are sporting Bike Classic shirts - appropriately, my father's is older, though I've only ever referred to Mr. Mustard with an elderly honorific. I took off my Bike Classic shirt right before I came to chilifest...a wise move. I think being Mr. Mustard's twinkie for the evening might have garnered a few comments.


Tall Brad distributing the prizes. You can see he likes to wear Structure.


Monica titled this "guy eating chili". It sums up Chilifest nicely.


Klund wondering who Carl Zeiss is.


Eryn recovering from a great big blister she got when reaching for a peanut butter cookie and brushing Pooteewheet's chili crockpot with the broken leg. The thing was working on having a meltdown - I mean Eryn...and the crockpot. A few Cars (tm) bandaids and some aloe vera stopped the pain, but after the blister, Eryn was pretty much done for the evening.