Feel So High

Yesterday turned into a bit of a boozy whirlwind.

Well, first I had work. Which, of course, wasn't boozy at all. I had a fairly uneventful day and in the afternoon went to the first rehearsal of the faculty/staff choir, which performs briefly every year at the school's opening assembly. This year we're singing "With a Little Help from My Friends," which in many ways is the perfect song for us -- everyone knows it, more or less, and it's not very complicated. But then there's that line about "getting high," which has caused some consternation. We've debated changing it. Personally, I think we should leave it alone -- the kids won't necessarily hear it, because our elocution isn't that precise, and you can get high in a non-chemical sense, right?

(Of course, this was The Beatles in the '60s. I'm sure it's meant in a chemical sense. But still.)

Then I went to a pub for a special afternoon happy hour with the coworkers on my team -- I had a pint with them and we talked about urgent pertinent issues, like whether we should change the word "high" in the Beatles song.

Then I met up with Dave and some different co-workers and we went to Pop-Kon, which is a pop-up restaurant being run on a limited basis by one of our friends, who's a chef. He rented a church in Notting Hill (with a kitchen!) and produced a tasting menu featuring scallops, pork belly and quail's egg, all cooked with a special unifying theme. (I don't want to reveal the theme in case it's a trade secret!)

Anyway, the food was fabulous, and eating in the vestibule of a church was interesting. I was at a table for four and we each brought a bottle of wine, and by the end of our five-course meal those four bottles of wine were gone. Where they went, I do not know, but I imagine we're all moving a little more slowly today.

You could say I got high with a little help from my friends. In a chemical sense.

(Top photo: Blowing bubbles near St. Paul's Cathedral. The artwork is a little cartoon I snipped from The New Yorker, just because I thought it was cute -- that could be me and Dave, although they both have hair and we haven't fired up our grill even once this summer. The post's title is taken from another song.)