Shooting stars and coyotes

-A A +A
By Vince Luecke

I've never had the lucky knack of being able to catch Z's on the run. Sleeping on a plane is difficult for me and afternoon power naps that perk up some people leave me feeling drowsy.

Well, I must have been tired Thursday of Schweizer Fest Week because I fell asleep on a concrete patio watching for meteors.

I came home that night just before midnight and instead of turning in as I should have, I decided to catch the Perseid meteor show happens each August. Staring up into the heavens isn't a regular practice of mine, but I saw a "shooting star" overhead as I walked out of the garage. I wanted to see more.

I went inside, fixed a sandwich, changed clothes, opened a beer and grabbed a pillow off of the sofa. I seldom use the patio on the west side of the house, which bakes in the sun during summer afternoons. I'm not sure how long I watched the sky but don't remember seeing any more shooting stars. I do remember jolting up a few hours later at the sound of yapping coyotes.

After a few discombobulated moments, I realized where I was and why I was flat on my back on a concrete slab. My elbow knocked over the half-full bottle of beer. Dawn was breaking, though it was dark enough my neighbors wouldn't have seen me. Next time I'll invest in a lounge chair.

Schweizer Fest Success
Schweizer Fest was a blast of fun and hot air. The week was the hottest I can remember as far as consecutive days of temperatures in the mid- to high-90s.

For the second straight year, I bartended Saturday night in the beer garden. It was five hours of trading beer for tickets, though it was fun. Schweizer Fest has a talented group of people who keep the taps open, quite literally.

I saw no spats among guests, despite the heat and relatively close quarters. The only incident I had came from a woman who grabbed a beer and ran off without paying a ticket. I don't know who she was and probably wouldn't recognize her again. She bellied up to the bar and asked for a beer. I don't take customers' tickets until I give them the beer, preventing the "Hey, buddy, I already gave you a ticket" scam.

"Where's the ticket?" I asked the tipsy darling after she took a sip from the cup I'd just handed her. She gave me a sheepish look, shrugged her shoulders, giggled loudly and walked away.

I watched her weave her way through the crowd. I didn't give chase, honked off but slightly bemused by someone who thought a giggle and smile were worth a cup of beer. To the lady, whoever you are, you owe Schweizer Fest $2.75.

Thanks to everyone who made this year's event a success. It takes the efforts of many for it even to happen and a lot of work takes place behind the scenes.