By the middle of the week things started to get a little shakey. Word had been out for a while about the Festival and the promoters were constantly trying to keep the event on track. It was rumored that the Chief of Police of Lewisville and some prominent city council persons were getting pretty anxious about the upcoming onslaught of humanity that was going to converge on their fair city. Honcho had decided to do a little schmoozing and invited the Chief, the Lewisville City Council, their spouses and some of the local media out for a spaghetti dinner so all could meet and discuss the matter. We spent the second half of that day cleaning up the grounds and making sure everything looked professional and organized. Most of our meals up to that time consisted of hotdogs or brown rice or "guesswhatthisis". We were looking forward to a real dinner. Two large campfires were adorned with large cast iron pots, one pot for the pasta and one pot for the sauce. The local media had set up cameras to film the summit meeting of hippies and city folk. As the Chef stirred the pot and added his special seasonings word spread through camp that two ounces of primo pot had been introduced to the recipe. Channel 5 was late getting set-up and requested that the Chef repeat his actions for their camera too. As cameras rolled the Chef added a third ounce of finely manicured, oregano looking, primo to the sauce and gently stirred it in. Ladys and gentlemen were arriving and being greeted with soft drinks, iced tea or water. Tables with table cloths had been set up back stage and the stagelights had been turned around to illuminate the area. Mingling was going superbly when dinner was announced. The guests were graciously invited to be served first. Some of us nervously watched as the first bites were sampled hoping that nobody caught on to the suspiciously whangish aftertaste of the alleged Alcapulco Gold ingredient. All was cool so we got in the chow line to get a good meal and a fine buzz. The evening was nice, the crew was limited to one serving or at least until the guests had their fill. The guests did come back for seconds, thirds too but they preferred another helping of "just the meat sauce please!" After the meal the crew left the big wigs to talk. A few wives too felt a little uncomfortable around the growing debate so some of them found their way to the big tent where the crew usually congregated for meetings or during bad weather. Some of us were really caught up in the whole hippie/festival thing and were busy playing the part of craftsmen under the tent. Some were making "Gods Eyes", some were tie-dying shirts and some of us were hammering and tinkering away in the corner of the tent. "My, that is interesting!" a glazed lady remarked. "What is that you are making young man?" she asked. I looked up from my copper wire creation and said "It's a roach clip!", I think she must have heard Broach Clip because she asked if I was selling them, she wanted to go get her friends and bring them down to shop as well. "Nah" I quipped, "We just make'em as we need'em." I handed the twisted metal clip to her. "They're beautiful." she said as she slowly moved away to the next cluster of tinkering longhairs. Angus recalled one man commenting on how big the moon was that night, he confided in Angus "I've never seen it look like that before!". I guess the meal did the trick because everything proceeded as scheduled the next morning. Trippin Drunk