Belgium Comes To Cooperstown ‘10

Posts Tagged ‘History’

The Eagles would have been proud, it should have been themed “Hotel California”

Fear hung over the festival-goers like a heavy raincloud. With the brewery deciding to ban dogs at the last minute, handing out “limited” drink tickets, and supplying official State of NY training to help volunteers identify drunks, we feared that BCTC had jumped the shark. As if the drunks needed help identifying each other or had the slightest proclivity to do anything about it… yeah, right!

A well written e- mail by Neal shows that years in the service industry paid off, Max and his canine compatriots are allowed to attend, woof!

The Eurovan arrived early Friday, rolling onto the grounds prior to any other RVs and securing the corner spot for the Stewart’s gang, who rolled in shortly thereafter.  Kegs were tapped and bottles opened in short order.

Ed, Jamie, and Hans turned up next, followed by Neal, Rick and Kristin.  New to the event were Reka, Lori, THE Tom Harvey and son Jason. Some vowed to return, others, not so much.

Friday night found Neal and Dan up too late with the others watching Rocky Horror, only to be rudely awakened early or volunteer duty as one of Scottie’s Hotties. Cleanup duties and check in went smoothly, despite Scottie’s best efforts.

Afternoon finally rolled around and with it, the tasting. Fewer breweries than years past but still some very fine libations. Hans (AKA Manfred) appeared without his Wingman at times (see separate update), which could only lead to trouble. Kristin went clothes shopping. Manfred drank heavily. Max ran around with a squeaky beer bottle in his mouth, to Kristin’s delight. Mafred continued to drink.

Reka and Lori headed for home early citing an uncomfortable night in the tent. Ed found Manfred disembarking from the balloon, then beer disembarking from Manfred. Grills grilled, more beer was enjoyed and movies were watched. Neal “picked up” a house warming gift, to Suzan’s surprise on unpacking the van. Tom sat contentedly in his chair drinking fine beer and vowing to return next year.

Morning dawned with a light drizzle. The area behind the Eurovan smelled like a Moroccan men’s room; I know, I’ve been in one. Cars were packed, good-bye’s exchanged, but everyone knew one thing; when it comes to BCTC, you can checkout any time you like, but you can never leave! 2010 was already being penciled into calendars, at least for most of us.