Old Friends (The Night I First Had White Chocolate Covered Peanut Butter Balls)

***WARNING*** If you invite Don to something or do something with Don that makes Don smile, laugh, cry, or if an event, or the people at said event, entertain Don in any way, shape, or form … he might Blog about it. *** WARNING PART 2 *** If you are not mentioned in Don’s Blog entry it means (a) next time you better do something more memorable or (b) Don is a jerk ***

So to everyone who went to the Tim & Jeanette’s on Saturday …drum roll …We did it! We said we should have a get-together. Then we planned a get-together. And then we all showed up. OK. Tim has been planning regular get-togethers for a few years and I just didn’t show up. But no more. Two months ago, when frat’ brother Matt passed away, we hugged and cried, and we told each other, “we need to get together more often.” And then we did. And it was wonderful.

I want to say the fellowship, reminiscing, and catching-up was the highlight, but I’d be lying. Saturday night, first and foremost, is the night we all first tasted Tracie Hunt’s White Chocolate Covered Peanut Butter Balls. Ya know how history defines things as B.C. and A.D.? Well, for the rest of our lives we’ll call it “B.P..B and A.D.P.B.” which of course is “Before Peanutbutter Balls” and “After Digesting Peanut Butter Balls.” I don’t remember if we lifted Tracie upon our shoulders and carried her around the living room as if she’d won a championship, but that might’ve happened. The only awkward moment was her husband, Rick, wondering why he wasn’t quite important enough to have ever had the White Chocolate Covered Peanut Butter Balls before Saturday. Come to think of it, that is a good question. I imagine that was a loooooong ride home and we wish them luck in their marriage counseling sessions.

Big thanks to Host and hostess, better known as The Insult Comics Tim & Jeanette. Jeanette was on fire! She won the Roast Battle. Their house is amazing but we really only needed Tim’s basement kitchen/bar, lined with Costco sized (and branded) bottles of bourbons, whiskeys, vodkas, and beers. It’s the kinda place I could see myself sitting around for hours. And that’s exactly what I did. My time at the bar was interrupted only for as long as it took to race upstairs and stuff myself with food. Oh, and I did move a few feet away to play Catchphrase. Pretty sure Team #2 won convincingly behind the Catchphrase master skills of Suzann Hallman.

Speaking of Suzann Hallman …do not Google “Camel Punching.”

The White Chocolate Covered Peanut Butter balls weren’t the only food and dessert highlight. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the 100-Mile dessert courtesy of Steve Hallman. The dessert can only be served after driving 100 miles. No. It’ can’t just come right outta the oven. At least I think desserts are better when they travel great distances because Phil’s No-Bake Chocolate Oatmeal cookies were damn good and they logged many miles to get to the party.

The winner of Best-Food-Item in the Non-Dessert/Non-Booze category was definitely Tim S’s Spicy Bacon Wrapped Tater Tots (aka heart-burn bombs). They were worth every uncomfortable moment post-consumption.

Lastly, the M.V.P. (Most Valuable Party Guest) was Kwass. If ever you hear me questioning his friendship, just know this …on this night, Verve Pipe was playing a concert and he chose us over Brian Vander Ark (but PLEASE don’t let this get back to Brian, as I’m pretty certain he thinks Kevin would never blow off a Verve Pipe concert for anything or anyone).

We had plenty of ice. Thanks for asking. If we get together again next year, we might still be using the same ice source.

In summary, this Blog would have you believe the food and booze were the only thing worth Blogging about, but that’s not true. These guys are like my brothers, and they and their wives are like family, and unlike people who meet me now, well into my 40s, a father-of-three, who I only allow to see the best-of-Don …these people at Tim and Jeanette’s house knew me back when I was 19 …and 23 …and 27 …when we all didn’t quite know what we were doing and they saw the worst-of-me (and I saw the worst-of-them), and we all love each other, anyway. And I don’t know a group I’d rather spend my Saturday night with.

Merry Christmas, all.

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