Post #112511 by Tiki_Bong on Sun, Sep 5, 2004 11:27 AM

Now check this - the Smokin' M's are playing across the street from my house at my neighbor's yearly wild-ass luau.

As we're packing the equipment up, I hear over the roar of the crowd the name of my birthplace - Tiki Central!

I drop everything (luckily it wasn't my guitar) and focus on the kindered soul that mentioned those precious words.

I walk up towards her, as a beam of divine light illuminates my path. I say "tell me child of tiki, who art thou", to which she says - Tikiholic!

Man, or man (or woman), what are the chances that we play a non-descript luau and a fellow TC member is in attendance? (statistically speaking it's 1 in 832,038,273.110485 - but who's counting).

So I says to myself "self, there must be some sort of tiki divinity going on here. Why is it everywhere I go, someone in the tiki world is there. Is it me? Am I the tiki messiah (in a non-religious way)?".

Then I ponder further "if I am the tiki messiah, does that mean my dad really didn't impregnate my mother?".

Then I stop the non-sensical pontification as I realize I'm standing in the middle of the street with my PA speakers, and a 1992 Ford F-150 is bearing down on me...

(Anyways, great to meet Tikiholic and her significant other.)