Tailgates and mini milestones

The tennis gang has a long, colorful history of tailgating that is not rivaled by a love of baseball. (Though, there are some years when Colleen can name multiple players on the team.) While any jamoke can lean on their car and drink Miller Lite, this group knows how to handle the details: preferred parking passes (thanks, Ron!), clearly marked coolers with ice-cold beverages, homemade chocolate chip cookies, two kinds of hand wipes.

We were all happy to toast a half-milestone: Ron's 65th birthday. It's hard to believe that Ron and Jean's collective 120th birthday was already five years ago. I'm really glad they celebrated that one with karaoke rather than skydiving, which was also one of their options.

It was a night for simple pleasures. Like mobility. (Though, truthfully, when Patty and I were on crutches last year, we were still able to enjoy brunch.) Thanks to Dianne for taking so many photos of us trying to show off our injury-free legs, and also for being the organizer of so many brunches.

I did get a little nervous at the Final Destination-like moment when one of the bolts fell out of the tent. But that passed, and it was really a nice, relaxing night. Almost as relaxing as, say, making a mohawk with Coco's golden retriever curls, which I was able to do later. Who knew that the night could keep getting better?

And no, Doug is not almost passed out — merely recovering from his grilling exertions (or trying to avoid being in the photo with all the enviable white-shorts ladies, of which Beth was also one). He did a phenomenal job with the steaks, brats, and hot dogs. When I hear Hebrew National, I think Doug, for sure.

Thanks to everyone who made the night fun. My first-ever Brewers tailgate did not disappoint, and I'll look forward to going back next year!