No sleep, no voice, but not hungover

The Marlboro Ale: two days of solid dancing with teams from all over the East, (plus the fabulous Kettle Bridge Clog from the UK), followed by two nights of singing. About four hours of sleep on Saturday, and two and a half last night. I kept meaning to go to bed last night, I really did--I was sitting down with my head against a post, barely could keep my eyes open, but still singing away with this incredibly rich variety of people. It was exquisitely, heart-breakingly gorgeous. We sang until dawn, at which point we realized that there were four Wake Robins (well, three and one former teammate) left standing, and about twenty kids (ages 16-25 or so) who were all still singing vigorously. All the other adults old farts people who were aged 16-25 20+ years ago (and doing the exact same thing that these kids were doing) had bagged it and gone to bed. Having outlasted all the other Old Farts, we decided it was time to retreat and leave the kids to their own devices, whereupon they stayed up all night, singing away, and we walked back to our tents and dorms with the sun coming up and the birds sounding off the dawn. For the first time, I regretted that I came to Morris so late--at 32--and wished retroactively for a misspent Morris youth. There's much to be said for making up for lost time, which I've certainly been doing, but it isn't entirely the same.