Squashed Banana

The Pasta Dinner, by most accounts, was a great success.

"By most accounts?," you ask. "What went wrong?"

Well, nothing, really. It really was a great success. The fundrasier was fruitful, to say the least. The food was delicious by all accounts. And the crowd looked like they were having fun, between eating, meeting Sheila Taormina, and eyeing their favorite raffle items.

"Okay," you say quizically.

Well, okay, there was one little glitch. I didn't get to eat until the end of the night. And if there's anything you should know: I LIKE TO EAT.

I mean really, how do you think I was able to lose 65 pounds. I had to gain the weight in order to lose the weight. And I LIKE TO EAT.

And I especially like the food at the San Marino Club.

But by the time that the guests were leaving was when I first was able to pick up my plate. And by then my pasta was, well, cold. It was still surprisingly good. But it was cold.

Next thing I started humming the Wiggles "Cold Spaghetti" tune to myself. It's a simple toon. The first verse is all of two words: Cold. Spaghetti.

The second verse is not much harder: Squashed. Banana.

Which, in my mind, warped in to: Squashed. Bananaman. Which then warped in to a Muppets tune. Note to self: ask my doctor if there are pharmaceuticals for afflictions like this...

Well thanks to this fundraiser, the progressive dinner and to your support, we have reached our fundraising goal. Now I can focus completely on training for the event.

I am a little worried about the event. Thanks to the weather, I haven't been able to get outside on the bike. And there is no comparison between lap swimming and an open water swim. And the difference in the temperature and humidity between Michigan and Florida is adding some anxiety.

I just hope I don't become the Squashed Bananaman.