Strange times. I was one of four judges in the annual Grape Stomp here in Penticton last night. The competing teams were allowed to do anything to sway the judges, so it wasn’t exactly a quantifiable contest. At one point I had several shooters lined up in front of me (and in me), some cookies, scratch and win tickets, dollar coins, Mardi Gras beads, and bottles of wine whilst a revolving brace of women in various states of undress, intoxication, and age massaged me in earnest. Very odd. Slept like a baby at the Apple D’Or.