Sad Tale, Happy Ending

Here's a sad tale for you: one year, perhaps last year, my father and I had a date for just the two of us. We planned our date weeks in advance to attend an annual salmon dinner fundraiser. I found a babysitter (thanks, Kirk!) and Daddy-o told my mom that he was taking me out and not her (she welcomed it because a seafood date would be pretty much the worst possible date in the history of the world), and we drove 45 minutes to the place where it was supposed to be. There were tents set up, but it looked quite sparse...in fact, no one was around. Where was all the salmon? We drove around for a while longer with some confusion...we weren't terribly late, we had this marked on our calendars weeks in advance, we were both hungry for some delectable seafood (and let me tell you what! Us Nielsons get dang cranky when we haven't had protein within the last hour and a half!) To our disappointment, we discovered what the problem was. A sign advertising the event indicated that we were in fact late...24 hours late! Oh poop!

So, we salvaged the date and went to Red Lobster instead where we ate seafood to our hearts' content. However, that is not the happy ending to the tale.

Fast forward one year, perhaps this year, and we double-and triple-checked the date before marking it on the calendar. My little sister joined us too, and on the day of our date we did indeed eat the salmon we were looking forward to. Hooray!

Here are things I learned:

One, this is a geriatric convention, and they actually bus in loads of oldies (but goodies). Two, the police in this tiny town take this event very seriously and put police line tape around the entire park. It is hilarious. Three, the entertainment is free for a reason (except for that one 14-yr-old kid who sings like a well-seasoned country star. He's pretty dang good and I usually don't care for that type of music, so that's saying a lot). Four, aside from the line to the Statue of Liberty ferry or some 5-second ride at America's favorite theme park, this may possibly be the longest line you'll ever stand in. Five, your hair may end up smelling like scrumptious smoked salmon for a couple days even if you wash it (that's not really a bad thing, just sayin').

All that aside, though, Pops and I are thinking of making this a tradition. Wanna join us next time?