It Was A Saturday Hang

Nelson removes the "closed" sign - finally.

In the three years that I knew John Gutierrez, his name was synonymous with two things: 1) Roya and 2) parties. And while sadness surrounds death, what better way to celebrate his life than with a party on the Guti Scale? Live music, food, lots of meat, lots of drink, a big fire and another mother pot of goulash for everyone to enjoy.


Baltimore Fire Department arrives to oversee the fire pit.

I find events like these to be rather difficult, so rather than just hanging out, I'd rather do something to occupy my time and mind. Before long, the raging fire of the goulash was to my back and the inferno of the grill was in front of me, with Spike and Nelson on the other side handling some of the meat. Bison skirt, Bison tri-tip, and both fresh pork and kielbasa sausage from Ostrowski's.

The fire was intense and before long I had stripped down to my t-shirt in the 40 degree weather. Not too long after that, with the heat of the fires threatening to scorch my skin, I donned my heavy canvas Carrhart jacket to sheild my skin from blistering. Then with food on the table, drinks in their hands and a hot bowl of goulash nearby, things were almost right in the world, but not quite.


Making the goulash.


A bowl of goulash in honor of John.