The toast. The toast that I’m speaking of, that which does not involve breakfast, can take place anywhere. It can suddenly erupt – like a volcano of good will – at schools, in hallways, a bus stop, a theater, at work, the garage…anywhere. Parties and weddings are not complete without the ubiquitous toast. The person who demands that all proceedings halt so that he or she can utter some words of cheer is either brave, inspired or drunk: and in very extraordinary circumstances, all three. Aubrey, in fact, has often been guilty as charged.
Only one thing is universal to the toast – the bottle, and its diminutive attendant, a glass. Neither must be empty. Should one become empty, it should be thrown into the fireplace to the huzzahs of all other occupants of the castle, but that is another story and obviously another party. Needless to say if your glass is empty have it filled once more, by God.
To my adorable readers, foolish enough to push open the doors of The Café Royal, Aubrey gives you heartfelt thanks. Once strangers, now friends – daring to read the charming stupidities posted here – Aubrey salutes you. Stopping to comment before leaving – I cherish your footprints and in some cases have forwarded theme to the police and you should be receiving a call shortly.
Some of you I have known for several years – and have even met. Some are new to me and are as of now mere delightful mysteries. Old or new, I know you all through your words, and that perhaps is the best way.
In late 2014 I will have been blogging for eight years. I say this only because when such a sickening amount of time has passed, one sometimes feels obligated to move on. This is of course rubbish. Aubrey stays. I will spend the coming year and the ones tumbling behind it like a forest of kittens reading and learning from you.
I am very lucky.
I am posting this a couple of days before the 31st – the traditional time for yearly confidences – because I will once again be in Catalina. At 12:01A the Casino becomes a zoo of savagery as people try to tackle the balloons falling from the ceiling. I will try to destroy as many as possible in all of your dear honors – in honor of our new and bonnie year.