I DJ’d a charitable fundraising dance in St. Paul last night at O’Gara’s for the Minnesota Saints Power Hockey team. I suppose you could call them amateur or semi-pro athletes. The team is made up of people with disabilities, many with muscular dystrophy, and all were in wheelchairs. Liz Burke, who initially got word out that I would be interested in volunteering my services, was true to her word and stayed up on stage with me all night.

Though the dancing was minimal at first, it picked up as the night went on, and by the time the last songs were playing, the dance floor was pretty packed. The highlight of the night was definitely when I was reading off the winners for the raffle. There were 22 prize packages, all very nice, ranging from deluxe night hotel stays to restaurant gift certificates. With only 70 people in attendance, your odds of winning were about 1 in 3. Unless, however, you bought half the tickets in the box, just as one man apparently did. This guy won about seven prizes, and every time I called his name, boos reigned down until he finally started forfeiting his prizes. I thought it was hilarious.

Tonight I am leaving directly from work to head westward on Hwy. 212 towards South Dakota, with Mom and Dad doing the same, heading eastbound. When we meet up, we’ll switch cars so I can have a reliable mode of transportation to get Lauren and I to and from Chicago this week. The old Grand Prix always seems to have some nagging problem. This time it’s the radiator which is leaking profusely. The car runs perfectly fine as long as I pour about three liters of water in every time I go somewhere. But Dad just replaced the radiator not more than three months ago and the warranty will allow him to swap it out with a new one. I assume I’ll be driving the Impala until I can get home again. Right now, I am still debating going home for a day over the 4th of July weekend to see the old Willow Lake gang at the town’s 125th anniversary celebration.