Fat Tuesdays Remembered

It's been cold, gray and snowy today. I started to think about a Fat Tuesday six years ago this very day. It was sunny. It was warm. My wife and I were staying in Aruba, courtesy of a client for whom I'd won a major case. We had a wonderful suite overlooking the Caribbean. The wind was constantly blowing. I remember when we got off the plane and walked down the stairs onto the tarmac. I almost lost my "Indiana Jones" hat to the prevailing winds that never cease blowing.

Aruba was like a dream. The people were friendly and wonderful. We were there for Carnivale. I remember dancing in the streets with the crowd as we paraded from God knows where to the cricket field where we were going to see the burning of King Momo. It was hot but nobody cared. Music was everywhere and I mean everywhere. Beer was being handed out to anybody by complete strangers. One Amstel (not Amstel Light) or Heineken over and over again. We got to the stadium and had no trouble getting to the very front of the crowd to watch as King Momo was set ablaze. The joke was on us. We didn't know he was full of fireworks!

It was a dream. Azure blue water. The beer was cold in Charlie's Bar. Cuban cigars smoked on a balcony overlooking the sea. Constellations rising that you can't see this far north.

The sky turning night in the middle of the day with all of the stars coming out while a black ball burned overhead surrounded by an ethereal glow. A total solar eclipse! Words can't do it justice. Something that your mind remembers better than any photograph.

File under La Vida Loca.

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