Charity auctions are to be avoided…

     I once bought a trip to AFRICA at a charity auction at the Jacksonville Zoo.  Do I need to say I had drunk too much Jungle Juice at the Zoo-Beration?  The next day, when the phone rang and the cheerful, Junior League volunteer asked for my credit card information – $10,000.00 and it didn’t include air fare – I kind of didn’t remember what I had done between the behind the scenes tour of the lion’s cage and stumbling to the Beaches Bus (provided for the whales* who had paid extra for Zoo-tastic Level seats at the ball).  I had only a vague notion I had held up the cute, lion’s head paddle one too many times…

     First of all, other than Isak Dinesen and Dian Fossey, what woman goes to Africa alone?   And didn’t at least one of them die horribly?  Secondly, and most importantly, booze makes you do things you wouldn’t do if you were sober.  Charity Auctions are a temptation to be avoided if you are a DRINKER who doesn’t want to buy what you don’t want or need. 

     My friends Laura and Andy are building  a new house in Maryland with a game room, added in small part, to house a tournament sized Foosball table they bought at a Silent Auction.  

     My son Jonathan bought a pig.


PictureThis is Henry…

    Jon Jon, his college buddies, and his girlfriend Kallie, were at a Wounded Warrior’s Benefit – a worthy cause to be sure.  My son describes it (by way of explanation) as a three day opportunity to get drunk with Vets in a rural setting – with a Live Auction

     When Henry came up for bid, Kallie got into a spirited (pie-eyed) contest with a farmer from Orange City, and they walked away with livestock.  Did I mention they are college students?  They live in apartments the size of my master bathroom.  And Henry is not a mini-pig, but a baby pig: an important distinction if you don’t have a sty and trough handy.  

     Here’s the deal grasshoppers, even Laura and I know – you PUT THE PADDLE DOWN, and go get another free drink,  when they start hawking adorable, baby barnyard animals at the auction. 

 *I know I’m mixing metaphors here.


Today I’m not drinking because : I don’t want to go to Africa alone, and I don’t want to house a pig, and I hate Foosball (except when I’m in a bar and in my cups).

How come you’re not drinking?