The AFU and Urban Legend Archive
AFU
Minutes
 afu west nein




Date: Tue, 25 Jul 1995 14:57:03 -0700
From: jdb@condor.cchem.berkeley.edu (Justin D. Bukowski)
Subject: AFU Nein minutes

M E M O R A N D U M
To: Board of Directors, AFU, Inc.
From: Justin Bukowski
Subject: AFU West Nein

I'm happy to report the successful conclusion of the latest AFU gathering, held on June 3, 1995, in Golden Gate Park, SF.

First and foremost, my deepest thanks to all who attended. You all pitched in and made it a perfect day. It couldn't have happened without you.

Now on to the minutes. The day began as dino (Dean is too polite to brag, so congratulate him on his successful PhD defense) and I arrived at beautiful Marx Meadow at 11 am. Already at the site, and wondering why the day began when *I* arrived, were Nolan Hinshaw, sporting a truly spiffy Old Hat, Sean Willard, Brian Leibowitz and his wife, Peter Thompson, and Charles Bishop. Brian showed off his volume I of Legman, practically begging for information on where to find volume II. Peter set up his croquet set, ostensibly for playing croquet, though he would be proven wrong.

Sean opened the authentic German beer, brewed in Davis, CA, that he brought and passed them around. Yours truly was awarded the first bottle, which I sipped for the better part of an hour before switching to wine coolers. Arriving in short order (actually, I forget the order, so just pretend it happened like this) were Phil Gustafson, Brian Scearce, Joe D, and Angie Schultz. Soon frisbees were being tossed and (rarely) caught as the players kept their eyes on the ground to avoid tripping over croquet wickets.

Nolan's wife and young'un arrived, followed by Dave Hatunen with wife and (adorable) kids, then by Harry Teasley, Michele Tepper and kibologists "Jesse Garon", Tjames Madison, and Jeff Gerstmann. Seeing that this was a barbeque and there was no fire going, Nolan took over and, after an abortive attempt in the site's grill, we had franks cooking on his Smokey Joe. Oh - beer, food, friends, conversation. But there was still something missing.

And then Peter "I won't be able to make it" van der Linden showed up. I quickly confronted the b*st*rd and demanded to know what he had to offer the gathering. With a twinkle in his eye, he revealed what he was concealing behind his back: a dalmatian named Dickens. Then with a wry grin he reached into his pocket and pulled out - a jar of Nutella. You'll simply have to wait for the pictures.

A game of Calvinball sprang up, putting the croquet set to good use. More franks and hamburgers went on the grill. Soon the lot of us were sitting on the grass, our appetites for food sated, enjoying the sunshine and the Weekly World News. Dave's daughter was disappointed to find no bubble wand in the bottle of bubble soap her mother had purchased, but some engineering magic saved the day, with the help of a Swiss Army knife and a plastic spoon. Too much sun! We retreated to the shade of nearby trees and discussed such things as, well, basically the same crap we talk about here. Only better.

As the sun descended in the sky, various participants bade the group farewell and made their escapes. Soon, a raggedy group of die-hards realized it was time to leave, so we made plans for the evening and off we went. The Icon Byte Bar was the first stop, to make the shameful live report that has already graced your screens. Then off to the Gordon Biersch brewpub for dinner. Finally, off to my apartment with the remaining few to crash.

The pictures are being developed as I write. Expect them to appear on cathouse when I get around to scanning them in. Once again, thanks to everyone. It was way fun.

Justin "what the hell will the next one be called?" Bukowski


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