We Need The Funk ... We Gotta Have That Funk ...

I’m quite certain that my reader is fully aware of the meaning of “pre-funk,” but on the slim chance that I am mistaken, I’ll include the definition according to the Oxford English Dictionary:

Pre-funk (v): to imbibe alcohol or other mood-altering substances prior to an event, often a sporting event or social gathering.

As mentioned in the OED, pre-funking often takes place before a ball game or a party, but there are few occasions that are not amenable to pre-funking. Weddings, funerals, LSATs, bris’ (though not suggested for the mohel) ... all of these are perfectly fine times to "prime the pump" before the event proper. (The birth of your first child is NOT an acceptable pre-funking opportunity ... trust me on this.)

And so it was yesterday that a number of us showed up in the park an hour before the party celebrating the 5th birthday of Oliver, laden with the necessary trappings to hold the maiden instance of the Bacon & Mimosa Park Extravaganza (we commenced at 11:00 am, as pre-funking is only made better when occurring before noon).

Well, believe you me, missy, it was every bit as good as it sounds and more. I believe there were three pounds of bacon of varying flavors and thicknesses, and plenty of bubbly for all (being conscientious and law-abiding morning drinkers, the champagne was poured into plastic pitchers, as the local constables frown on glassware in the park. It also boosted our white-trashiosity, so it’s really a win-win). We did our best to make sure that the youngsters present only poured from the actual orange juice containers, but some of those kids are pretty dang goofy anyway, so it’s hard to say with certainty that we were 100% successful.

There was a bit of tension when it became known that I had brought both pancake mix and ... sausage. There was an audible gasp from several revelers. “What kind of man brings sausage to a bacon party?” asked a fellow attendee, clearly upset at what he perceived as an unforgivable breach of porkly protocol. Fortunately, I was able to explain my views on non-exclusion, that it was all part of the same pig and that we should embrace differences rather than propagate divisiveness, and convince him that the additional items would only add to the merriment. It didn’t hurt that, apparently, champagne tickles his nose, and he kept giggling.

One of the highlights came when the birthday boy showed up at noon with another pound of bacon, which neither his mother nor her husband had any idea from whence it may have come. That kid has promise.

All in all, it was a splendid Sunday, both pre-funk, funk, and post-funk (now that I think about it, I did have a beer whilst mixing the pancake batter at home … I’ll leave it to you to decide whether that’s a pre-pre-funk, or just a pathetic cry for help). There are calls to make it a monthly, or even weekly, event, rather than an annual one. I can’t say that I see a downside to that notion ... there certainly have to be other children with birthdays we can work with, even if nobody actually knows them.

Interested parents with kids they’d like to volunteer can contact me at thedeadacorn [AT] gmail [DOT] com.