The Fourth Voyage of Skivee- Lots To Celebrate *** Now With More Greyhounds!***
The pleasant folks who run the schooners Woodwind I&II repeated their previous errors and asked for some music on their July 4th evening tour of the bay.
This is a Ship's Company gigue that I have horned in on over the last several years.

Rushing out to our state capitol nearly on time, I arrived at an Annapolis municipal parking lot, wedged myself into the creeping line, reached for my wallet...and found a curious lack of walletude against my ass. I had left it on the bed when I changed clothes. Yes, I change clothes.
The very nice attendant let me into the lot on promise of repaymnt by one of my mates in spite of the fact that I was obviously a folk musician.
Over the next 15 minutes I found that ESSENTIALLY NO SPACES REMAINED OPEN IN THE LOT. The sole exception was one space marked off for the exclusive use of the mayor of Annapolis. Even I am smart enough to know that using that one would not have ended well.
Folks were paying the fee, driving around the lot for a bit, then leaving by the parking structure's only exit on the other side of the lot. I don't know if they got their fivers back. Annapolis's 17th century street layout is not condusive to tooling around the block.
Didn't PT Barnum do the same thing at his museum?..."This Way To The Fabulous Egress".
Myron came to my aid and we repaired to a super-secret free parking area available only to the cool kids.
We soon were tossing back fine ales on Myron's coin.

Myron and I manned the shanty-singing station on the WWI while the lovely and talented Dallas and Rachael manned and womanned the WWII.
This was a much quieter tour of duty(teehee) mostly because of the absence of EXTROVERTED WOMAN from last year's trip. Small favors, we are grateful for them.

Winds were light, temps cool,the sky was kinda overcast. This made for rather tame sailing. We didn't even get our feet wet. We moseyed out to the Bay Bridge and back. The bridge looks muuuuuuuuuuch thinner from underneath. Skinny and insubstantial and shakey and...remind me never to drive on the Bay Bridge again. Yikes.
We were buzzed by stupid expensive speedboat drivers. Sadly, Coast Guard regs demanded that we leave our weapons on shore. We had to make do with the occasional "Hawaiian Good Luck Sign" hand gesture.
The passengers were nice. They asked several questions about the songs, leading to informative discussions in both directions...and a good time was had by all.
There was a brief contest between the two Woodwinds to see which boat could best slaughter our national anthem, then we headed to our mooring for the fireworks.
Our Captain Jenn was reluctant to park the boat too near the firing barge. Previous experience in washing spent gunpowder spluge off white decking had taught her well. We ended up dropping anchor a prudent distance away.

Kaboom! FlashBang! RumbleThumpBoomCrack!
One-half hour later we made our retina-burned way back to the dock for the long journey home.
As a final blessing of liberty and freedom, we did not receive a parking ticket for using the secret parking space...I LOVE THIS COUNTRY!!!

On another matter:
Few of my women friends will be aware of Cracked magazine. Back in the dimly remembered 1970s it was a cheap rip-off of the more famous humor rag, Mad magazine. Well, Cracked has gone on to become the most dynamic source of scholarly humorous information on the Intrawebs.
Behold the following about how a Greyhound was instrumental in the formation of the Church of England:

http://www.cracked.com/article_17507_p2.html Some NSFW language is contained herein

It is my belief that the dumbass Greyhound just thought that the Pope was a rabbit.