We’ve been here before. Friday the 13th is my birthday (surely you don’t suffer from paraskevidekatriaphobia).
I thought it would be great because, after all of this time, that is the day we finally are scheduled to upload Last Farm Standing on Buttermilk Hill: Voelcker Roots Run Deep in Hardberger Park to the printers. Getting a 240-page book on the press should be something to celebrate, but my birthday looks more like gloom and doom. (Click here to help me now.)
Law enforcement officers are picking me up and locking me away in The Vault on August 12 as part of the MDA (Muscular Dystrophy Association) Lock-Up. While some of my friends have shown their generosity and compassion, others seem to have their hands stuck in their pockets, meaning I have not yet raised my required bail – $2,000. (Click here to help me now.)
Fearing I might not be able to secure the funds to get out, I thought I better hatch a back-up plan. Jail break. Zinc and Boudro’s are donating a last meal to all of MDA’s prisoners. Maybe I can find a way to surreptitiously slip my utensils under my bra (Ow!). (Click here to donate now.)
I asked Ronnie of Zinc Bistro to show me where I would prefer to spend my sentence, next door and the floor below. The wine cellar. If I could just tunnel from The Vault into Zinc’s wine cellar, I would be content to stay imprisoned for life. (If I can tunnel into the wine cellar, you don’t have to give a penny.)
But then Ronnie took me up to The Vault where I will be locked up. He laughed cruelly as he showed me the thickness of the door on the huge safe, and said all four walls, the ceiling and, unfortunately, the floor are the same thickness. No way I’ll be able to dig out of there with a knife and fork. There is no escape. (Click here to help me escape now.)
So I am back to pleading with those of you who have not yet done so to please pull your hands out of your pockets right now.
My bail money can be your tax deduction.
Your gift to the Muscular Dystrophy Association could help send a child to summer camp or fund life-saving research.
Plus it’s my birthday. So please, please, please click here to bail Gayle out of jail.
And, hey, I’ll take Friday the 13th over any Monday.
Update on August 12: The police car came and took me away, but, thanks, thanks and more thanks to a rather philanthropic hand of followers (who did, however, make me sweat it out until the last minute, but all’s well that ends well), I served no time. Enjoyed the bountiful spread contributed to the incarcerated by Zinc and Boudro’s, but particularly enjoyed one of “the secrets from the cellar” one of the owners shared with me: JC Cellars 2005 The Imposter, a 92 on Wine Spectator described as:
As exotic as it is potent, with deep blackberry liqueur, sandalwood and wild game aromas and rich, ripe cassis, blueberry and licorice flavors that power on toward the bold, spicy finish. Zinfandel, Mourvedre, Petite Sirah and Syrah.
And, best of all, I will be free to drink again tomorrow on my birthday.