Thunderdome

Bob's sister, 7 years ago, gave him a monster bottle of Blue Label as a house warming gift. So it was only fitting that on the last night of ownership, Bob and I finished off the remnants. Somehow, through all that time, especially with all the gatherings, the Game Of Thrown watch parties, the multitude of Jorts players living there, Zack, me living a block away, Crotty, and especially with Bob being absent for a year to the great white northwest, this bottle remained unfinished. The house was creaky, and tight up top. The backyard was claustrophobic and still had popcorn ceilings on most of the second floor. It only had one bathroom, as most of these 100 year old townhouses in Fairmount tend to have. His basement was a unfinished portal to hell. It was perfect. We built his wooden dining room table down there. We waxed our skis and snowboards down there (or maybe just I did). It became the jumping off point to so many projects that needed an unwreckable concrete floor. And the plants. Plants could not stay alive in that house, no matter how hard he tried...or didnt try. Anyway, we partied with Bob in that house. We partied without Bob in that house. It was most affectionately deemed The Thunderdome. It is the end of an era. Thunderdome, I salute you.

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