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| Sierra Madre is one of the few that decorates with volunteers. |
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| Carlos, Jim, Vickie, and Frank |
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| George and Claudette |
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| Marcia and Rosemary on chair watch. |
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| Rosemary, Kathy and Marcia making the best of an afternoon of chair watching. |
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| Alan, Diana, and Margaret. |
New Years Eve got off to a slow start – it was cold, and although Marcia had traded her chair-guarding shift with Carlos (definitely a Texas gentleman), I still had to face a 2-4 AM shift on Colorado Blvd with 37 degrees predicted. After a group dinner, we drank casually and clustered around propane heaters, talking and listening to Ken’s mix of 1950s-1970s music, waiting for midnight.
Margaret felt this wasn’t enough and ordered everyone to line up at her motorhome, where she would dispense something she called “chocolate cake”, one person at a time. You don’t say “no” to Margaret without penalty, but I sat back and watched. A dozen people fell in line and entered her motorhome one at a time, exiting apparently satisfied. To me, it looked like a mobile methadone clinic. I fell in line, and when my turn came sucked on the offered sugar-dipped lemon slice and downed a shot of Frangelico. It tasted a little bit like chocolate cake. She said I didn’t do it right and made me repeat the process. I then said it tasted a lot like chocolate cake, and went back outside, happy, as I like chocolate cake.
With that assist the party warmed up and pretty soon there was dancing and a proper New Years Eve. I’ve never seen an Airstream group that celebratory. By 12:30 I was in bed.
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