Had an awesome time in Ann Arbor this weekend. For one brief trio of days, I was popular. My phone rang off the hook, and it was always some new friend wanting to hang out, get coffee, hit a favorite restaurant or bar, show me their new child, or whatever.

I rented a PT Cruiser, which has the distinction of being the very ugliest car I have ever driven in my entire life. People would openly mock my ride as I idled down the street. Myself, I found it “pimp.”

The current group went so far as to name the concert on Friday the “alumni reunion” concert. It was printed on the program and everything. That made me feel really special. About 30 alums showed up and spent the weekend trooping from one favored restaurant or bar to the next, occasionally bursting into song. The concert itself rocked, as did the after-parties. I have now experienced my quota of college house party for the next several years. I also made some dollars on a small betting pool as to the likelihood of various of our members obtaining “sloppy make-outs” at the party. Those who can, do. Those who cannot, bet on those who can, for our own amusement.

When I grew weary of trooping from trough to trough, singing, I met up with simianpower, sarahmichigan and mcniadh for breakfast at the Flam. Then the shaved ape and I retired to his cavelike abode for some serious button mashing on Tekkin 4. I left with a Commodore 64 in my trunk, so it must have been a good visit.

Totally randomly, I wound up at the Mens Glee Club concert the following night. I was walking around campus with my friend Mark, with whom I had sung in the group so many years before. We sat in the second balcony, and I had a downright metaphysical experience: I saw all my old friends on stage. Of course, the particular friends weren’t there … but the roles were all filled. I had the feeling of coming back to the same bend in a river and seeing that while the water had moved on, the river remained. It was cool.

Mark and I also shared a nifty dinner at the Chop House, where the high point was probably having the sommelier come over with a bottle of wine in hand and set it on the table. Mark is also a sommelier, having learned most of what he knows by working with this guy. Mark looked at him and said “I guess I don’t really get to pick, do I?” “No.” Apparently, the story is that Bob Egelhoffis a hotshot winemaker, and this was is newest thing. Not even on the wine list yet. It was really good, but I don’t even want to know what it cost.

Breakfast at Angelo’s gave me a chance to reflect that I’ve been ordering exactly the same thing there for 13 years now.

By Sunday evening, I was dragging pretty bad (having slept about 5 hours across two nights). Pulled my sorry butt to the airport, and got the call from technolope that he was arriving momentarily. Decided that making my flight was the better part of valor. We’ll catch up on the flip side.