Sunday…
Sunday mornings at barbershop conventions almost always start off with a fairly non-denominational church service, usually more focused on singing hymns and spirituals than sermons and bible verses. Unfortunately, being up until almost 3am the night prior at ever convention, I almost NEVER can get my sorry, heathen ass out of bed in time for it.
So I had planned on getting checked out by 10am, but as always, that just didn't seem to happen. We slept till 10, realized the time, and jumped out of bed and began showering and gathering. The Concierge Lounge closed at 10, but thankfully, the attendant was kind enough to open the doors long enough for us to grab some coffee and whatever was leftover from the free continental breakfast. Big Mistake! Soon, she had more or less completely re-opened the darned thing as most of the other barbershoppers who were up till 3am or later had the same idea. Hope she made some good tips!
I drag my stuff to the car and pull it up to the entrance to get Lou, who had managed a ride up with a fellow chorus member. Odd thing about the morning after is, though the lobby is again filled with barbershoppers, no one's much interested in singing. We're all pretty worn out, hoarse, hung-over, or otherwise incapable of croaking anything out without hurting ourselves somehow. Besides which, we had our fun, got our respective Jonzes satisfied, and just wanna get the heck home.
So Lou checks us out of the room, we pile into the car, and head down I-94, blasting Weird Al's newest album the whole way. God, we're such dorks.
By Ann Arbor, we're feeling a bit hungry and grab a bite at a Big Boy in Ann Arbor. While Lou's finishing his 3rd plate from the breakfast Buffet, I give a call to Sonya to let her know what's up, try calling my Dad (not home), and we're off to home. I drop Lou, then get home. Exhausted, sick, drained, but immensely satisfied in a great convention.
Next, Pioneer District Barbershop Convention (the Bows)...
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