EBH 47

Episode #807

July 20, 2024

The invitations went out.
“You are invited to the 47th annual Easter Beer Hunt (EBH) and Rib Roast.”

47 years.
Only one COVID year was missed.
Who would have known that this party would persist for 47 years?

47 years ago I wanted to throw an Easter themed party for my sister’s birthday, which sometimes falls on or near Easter. I called her up:

“I want to have an Easter egg hunt for your birthday, but you know that I don’t like eggs.”
She said, “Then hide something you like.”
I like beer, I thought, and the EBH was born.

If you have ever been to an Easter Beer Hunt you have a standing invitation and can bring anyone you like. It has always been Saturday, the day before Easter.

It has not been unusual for 100 guests to attend the EBH.

Two people have been to every party: Rick and Paula. Others have only missed a few. Many guests I see only once a year, at this party.

Some years, in between houses, good friends hosted the party.
Rain or shine (bar COVID) the party happened.

Sometimes it rained.
One rainy year was heavily attended by trade show exhibit builders. My brother-in-law met Tina that year. I dug out a stack of tarps and some rope from the garage and said to the exhibit dogs, “Cover the back yard.” 15 minutes later the entire back yard was covered with tarps. That was the year that water pistols were the gimmick. It was wetter inside the house than it was in the back yard.

Other years, some kid would throw me in the swimming pool. Not this year because I have no pool.

This year’s party started with my driving to the casino store to get some ice. When I arrived back at the house there was snow on the ground. So far, the odds of it snowing on the Easter Beer Hunt are one in forty seven. 

I popped open the EZup just outside the back door. Under the EZup I put coolers on tables and rolled in the BBQ, out of the snow. We weren’t going to play outdoor games this year.

My friend, who had arrived early from Oregon, hid the vintage beers in the house. Paula displayed the door prizes on the shelf behind the dining table. The Jellybean Jar was filled and counted.

We knew how many cats there were in the house for the cat counting game. Bandit was in cat jail, so she could not be counted until she joined the party later.

The storm was severe in Los Angeles and along the coast, so many attendees decided not to brave the mountain highways. There was a memorial service for a Perris skydiver, so many of my skydiving friends could not attend the EBH. The usual complement of potential guests had family Easter plans and sent their regrets.

Snow turned to rain, turned to sleet, turned to ice as the clock struck 3.
Our first guests walked through the door.
“Hide your beer in the coolers outside,” I said.
“Put your side dish on the dining room table.”

One after another the guests arrived.
Only eighteen guests this year.

I fired up the BBQ and cooked chicken skewers, sausage links, pork and beef ribs. 
I wish I had a time lapse of the beer coolers emptying. People had no trouble finding the cold beer.

We added a new game this year. How many times would Rick hit his head on the EZup walking in and out of the back door? The answer was 27.

Guests scurried around the house finding beers. People counted and wrote down how many cats they saw. Some made wild guesses about the number of jelly beans, some had complicated formulae.

The party was intimate. There were not cliques of friends. I had wonderful conversations with everybody.

For a mostly older attendance the Pictionary game was very naughty.

Everyone was a winner. All the door prizes were given away. Two people tied in their jelly bean guess, both missing the actual number by 11 beans.

Many beers were consumed, all the vintage beers were found. Everyone made it home safely.

The 47th annual Easter Beer Hunt was one of my favorites. It was small, intimate, cozy, delicious, fun and it snowed. See you next year.

IF YOU LIKE THIS BLOG YOU’LL LOVE MY BOOKS:
“Skydivers Know Why Birds Sing” by Ricki T Thues is now available on Amazon.
It is a Love story of Rick and Paula Thues and their 35 years of Skydiving.

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