That Hot Promethean Fire

The last few weeks have been interesting, to say the least. As GTA Feghoot has noted, last week's HGS line up included le pere de lemur catta - my own father. This made for an enjoyable family occasion, but it also meant a duplication of the regular trivia night division in the lemur catta household: joining my wife on the opposing Team-o Supreme-o sat my own mother, a trivia-mongering barfly and church handbell director with enough interest in British monarchial history, sports, and television to put HGS in the hot spot. Luckily for us, from my intelligence reports, it appears that a few of the right answers she suggested weren't included on T.S.'s answer sheet, likely sparing HGS from a much narrower victory. Plus, as has been noted, the hot spot is not new to us. We invented it.

Still, Team-o Supreme-o may have become HGS's true opponent in these last few weeks. They are worthy advesaries. It will be a pleasure to defeat them.

My parents have now returned to the Gulf Coast, back to the humid and humble submetropolis of Baton Rouge, where the trivia is not quite so British, nor so stocked with the many ales of the Empire. I hope that since their visit, when they're back home sipping an Abita at The Caterie, the ringing of the Arctic Monkeys long dissolved from memory, they'll have a clearer picture of how a few grad students and friends drank that Milwaukee summer under the table.