Sorry to just now reply to all the excellent advice and good wishes. The cook went off quite well. I lit the smokers at 6 a.m. Friday and took the last ribs off at 5:30 a.m. Saturday. There was a period there where I, um, lapsed into unconsciousness, in a chair beside the smokers. There were still four slabs of baby backs in. The fire slowly died under them. When I woke up, they looked done to perfection, but were only warm to the touch, so I wrapped them in foil and heated them in the oven for an hour. The ribs were falling off the bone, which some, including myself, will argue is not perfection. But I thought they were delicious, and so did everyone else. The picnic shoulders pulled perfectly. My partner in crime bought these amazing gadgets called Bear Claws. Pulled 50 pounds of shoulder in an hour, and no aching joints the next day. My BBQ collaborator always makes a NC style vinegar sauce that finishes the pulled pork off to perfection. We got 100 RSVPs. Eighty showed up. Which means that for the first time, I got to take leftovers home. This is a good thing because my wife was out of town and missed the party. I inflicted the rest cook on her, and that was NOT a masterpiece, so I'm glad to be able to save her some of this. All the folks raved about the food, and I have to say I thought it came out right well.
