Snap, Cackle, Pop
It ain’t easy being me. I would sometimes like to return to the halcyon days before my blog made me famous. I could just write for fun back then. Now the demands on my time are almost oppressive. Despite exhortations from my #2 reader to document our weekend, he needs to understand that a creative genius needs time. He must think this blog thing is a snap. But as W said eleven times during one of the 2004 presidential debates, “It’s hard work”.
I spent this past weekend up in Murphys, CA, gold country in the Sierra foothills, with #1, #2 and The Belgian. Our families came along as well but we managed to ignore them most of the time. Saturday afternoon the numbers and I did some wine tasting. I tried to impress them with the breadth of my oenological knowledge. When a Viognier was poured, I stated, with an air of insouciance, that it tasted like white wine. #1 spent most of the time schmoozing the winemaker’s brother, who carries the official title of The Winemaker’s Brother. It turns out #1 helped them get a new account in our lovely suburban neck of the woods. I hope that’s good for a few bottles of Zin. Just as we were leaving, The Belgian showed up. That guy has to work on his timing.
We went out to dinner Saturday night, with a couple bottles of red we had picked up on our afternoon tour. The men sat on one side of the table, the women on the other. The women got a little raucous but the guys took it in stride, though after a few stares from the other diners we had to quiet them. Somebody referred to the “cackle” a couple times, I can’t recall who, right before we made them pay for dinner. They’re off on a ladies weekend next month so they’re on their on, which means they’ll probably get kicked out of a few establishments.
Our hotel accommodations were stellar. They had a nice little pool that we dominated most of the weekend. The cement pond had a strict no food and beverage policy which we wantonly violated. My family rented the luxury suite, the only one in the place, which became party central. The suite came with a couch that converted into a deformed bed, a mini-fridge and sink. The kids spent a lot of their time there when they weren’t out at the pool or wandering around the town. We even had two TVs. We spare no expense.
We hit the road Sunday, but not before spending a few hours at a local park, which I think my wife may have described as “cute”. There was a stream running through it and some of the kids decided to wade in. There was a big crowd at another section of the park. We later found out that the Governator was due in town that day. We decided to bail out before he arrived to shake babies and kiss hands.
OK, my creative juices are drained so that’s a wrap. It’s time to go pour a pop.
I spent this past weekend up in Murphys, CA, gold country in the Sierra foothills, with #1, #2 and The Belgian. Our families came along as well but we managed to ignore them most of the time. Saturday afternoon the numbers and I did some wine tasting. I tried to impress them with the breadth of my oenological knowledge. When a Viognier was poured, I stated, with an air of insouciance, that it tasted like white wine. #1 spent most of the time schmoozing the winemaker’s brother, who carries the official title of The Winemaker’s Brother. It turns out #1 helped them get a new account in our lovely suburban neck of the woods. I hope that’s good for a few bottles of Zin. Just as we were leaving, The Belgian showed up. That guy has to work on his timing.
We went out to dinner Saturday night, with a couple bottles of red we had picked up on our afternoon tour. The men sat on one side of the table, the women on the other. The women got a little raucous but the guys took it in stride, though after a few stares from the other diners we had to quiet them. Somebody referred to the “cackle” a couple times, I can’t recall who, right before we made them pay for dinner. They’re off on a ladies weekend next month so they’re on their on, which means they’ll probably get kicked out of a few establishments.
Our hotel accommodations were stellar. They had a nice little pool that we dominated most of the weekend. The cement pond had a strict no food and beverage policy which we wantonly violated. My family rented the luxury suite, the only one in the place, which became party central. The suite came with a couch that converted into a deformed bed, a mini-fridge and sink. The kids spent a lot of their time there when they weren’t out at the pool or wandering around the town. We even had two TVs. We spare no expense.
We hit the road Sunday, but not before spending a few hours at a local park, which I think my wife may have described as “cute”. There was a stream running through it and some of the kids decided to wade in. There was a big crowd at another section of the park. We later found out that the Governator was due in town that day. We decided to bail out before he arrived to shake babies and kiss hands.
OK, my creative juices are drained so that’s a wrap. It’s time to go pour a pop.
posted by DJ @ 7:08 PM
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