My Kirkwood tour with The UK, TK and 4M was successful, meaning we're still friends. We spent some time on the deck with Wayne and Garth last Friday night. We talked about the good old days and communicated via Facebook with some high school chums. At one point, I asked TK to handle the interaction with 4M, as he was being obtuse and argumentative. 4M and I have had a rocky 40 year acquaintance, whereas TK and I make an effort to work on our relationship. TK whipped up a short order breakfast Saturday morning. He still has the skills he acquired at Middletown Lanes, which we noted, is conveniently located across the street from the Shortline bus station. I took to calling it Shitline back when I rode it to school in Binghamton. I was so immature.
We rented a motor boat and toured Caples Lake Saturday afternoon. We made sure to load up on the sunscreen as, at that altitude, we'd be crisp after a two hour tour. The UK was The Skipper and I was Little Buddy. I think the other guys were Thurston Howell III and The Professor. Or maybe Ginger and Maryann. I don't recall exactly.
We had an delectable dinner at Cafe Fiore in South Lake Saturday night. 4M brought a magnum of 2003 Karl Lawrence Cabernet, that he opened earlier in the day to breath. We started out with a Trefethen Riesling, calamari, and fried green tomatoes. TK pointed out there were no “feet” in the calamari. He was right. They are the best part, but they were tasty nonetheless. Everyone agreed that their entrees were excellent and that the staff was top notch. Eight thumbs up from the boys.
http://www.cafefiore.com/
Afterward we hit the casinos and waded into a mass of middle America. I got a few hands of blackjack in before some dipshit joined the table to throw off my rhythm. I broke even and walked away. Our last stop was the bar to deposit a few bucks in the video poker machines. We headed home Sunday, with a pit stop at Mel's Diner in Jackson, the home of the Moo Burger. Here's a shout out to our genteel host, The UK. Thanks Bro!
I don't often have to publish a retraction. Actually I never do, since no one gives a damn. However, I feel compelled to do so today. My last statement on my last post was uncalled for. TCG is a friend, and I expect that he will be one for some time, for at least the better part of the next two months.
They had CNBC on again at the gym yesterday. I caught a little of Jim Cramer. I cannot take too much of his schtick; investment advice as raucous lowbrow entertainment. After a swim and a steam, I caught one guy hawking bank stocks while his ideas were poo pooed by others on the panel. Should I go short or long on Bank of America? Who knows? But B of A was one of the stops on my Friday afternoon tour. I went to deposit a check. The greeter – when the hell did banks start having greeters? – asked me if I had an ATM card. I could have said I got my first ATM card in Binghamton, NY I n the late 70s, from Marine Midland Bank, before you were in swaddling clothes, but that would either have confused him or gotten me kicked out of the bank.
I received an email from my brother this morning. He said it was time for a new blog post and that I should write about him. I have to admit, he's right. My brother is a handsome, affable middle-aged attorney. He lives in the East Bay. He is quite fit, a lean 170 pounds or so, and has delusions of grandeur. Sometimes, as when we were children, he frightens me, but for different reasons.
We just got a new mattress delivered this morning We've had the old one for several years but my wife got us a new one on warranty since the old one was defective. The mattress inspector had to come over to confirm that , which he did. How do you get a gig like that? I'd probably be good at it. Anyway, as we were frolicking on our new bed this morning, I called my wife a geezer. I immediately realized that geezer is a male term, and that crone would be a better word, especially if I wanted to get my ass kicked.
