No free chorizo. No explosive jerked chicken. No sweet scents of pineapple mixing with the tangy soot of charcoal. No juggling hot dogs while trying to pick that God Damn Fly out of your pint outside the Locke.
The recession is taking our jobs and our sanity, but what of it. That's nothing a natural disaster or a Thatcher government hasn't done with equal abandon in days past.
But when it goes after the funding for the biggest free food extravaganza in the city, a line in the sand has been crossed. Truly, Riverfest without the BBQ is not Riverfest at all.
What do we do? The Board suggests a flash mob on Charlotte's Quay. Everyone bring a quart of vodka, my mate Mickey (the broker on the mall) will revisit the endless supply of steaks he somehow "found" in college, and I'll bring the fire.
We shall overcome.