I hauled my Rabbi friend North with me. We both had the sickies, but after a Friday of zincing it up, we bravely faced parade day with only beers in hand. And brats. And other german treats I can't pronounce, but enjoyed thoroughly.
We had a great time catching up with the radio (and former) radio folks. We bopped back and forth between them and my friend, Kohlrabi, on the other side of the street. This is where the annual trunk photo was snapped.
We floated along like fall leaves on a crisp breeze, landing finally at the fest grounds with leaves in our hair and gyros in our tummies. We bundled up as the sun set and the temperatures dropped. We managed to get in some visiting with friends and family and witnessed a glorious Ring of Fire by the Jim Busta Band.
As we trudged back through downtown on our way home, I noticed it was 830. It had been a full day of fun and we were done! All of us were sound asleep before midnight dreaming of drinking gloves and Oktoberfest flair to share next year. Magical.