Longnecks and Apothic Red

A couple of weeks ago the ninja and I traveled to North Carolina on a day trip. We were on a recon mission.

After 28 years in the ski business, he just can't help himself. He had to go and check out Sugar Mountain and Beech Mountain. He's really pretty amazing. Before we even drive in the parking lot, he's starting on a running "SWOT" analysis (strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats.) And he doesn't stop. As we're strolling around the base area and the lodge, he's making comments like "I would have killed for a dining room like this at Mountain High" or "that (lift) loading ramp needs some serious work" or "they really ought to exploit this or that strategic advantage more". Things like that. I am usually in awe of him.

On the way back from North Carolina, we stopped in Marshall, NC at Longnecks. We had a ball there! It's billed as the oldest tavern in Marshall, NC. It's true. But it's only been there a few years. The town was dry up until a few years back :)

We walked out of Longnecks with a six-pack of the ninja's favorite beer from Breckenridge Brewery. And, we also walked out with a bottle of Apothic Red and an authentic mead! I'm sitting here enjoying the Apothic Red as I write this post. It's a very nice blend of Zin, Merlot and Syrah.

 

2nd post from phone

Blogging via Text: test num 1

School's out for summer!...

...and it's going to be a long summer! I graduated this past weekend!

It feels absolutely marvelous. Now, I don't know what the next chapter will be like. And, I really don't want to think about it for a while. So, I won't!

Meanwhile, the ninja and I entertained both sets of parents over the weekend. They came into town from Kansas and Texas for the graduation ceremony. We had a ball entertaining them, but we ended up exhausted. About 2/3 of the way through our time together, I had an epiphany. I realized one of the reasons it would be great if we had kids. If we had kids, they would be entertaining the grandparents and we would have much less to do.

From the Archives: Stargate: Coach - episode 3 (being the final, er, first episode?), circa 2009

Some Thursday, March 2009.

I saved this for last because it's going to be hard to wrap your minds around. It still is for me. I just don't understand how it could possibly happen. But the quantum physics governing handbags is just different, REALLY different, from the rest of the world of quantum physics.

I arrived at Burkle Hall on a Thursday night. I was there for an odd reason. My friends thought I was crazy. See, last semester I missed an important lecture in Quantitative Methods. And, while I've missed lectures before this one was different. Quantitative Methods is an important class for me. I want to understand the statistics that I read about in journals and papers.

Well, last Thursday was the date that the Professor would deliver that lecture to this semester's class. He had very graciously agreed that I could attend the lecture.

This semester, I haven't been attending school on Thursday nights, so I ran into many school friends that I haven't seen in a while.

I remember vivdly the conversation I had with Rose Gonzalez. We talked about how anxious she was to finish her program. I mentioned that I was taking it easy for a semester in order to reenergize myself. (I tried to take too many units last semester - it was a disaster!)

So, that's how I came to be standing near the water fountain on a Thursday night at Burkle.

You have to remember that I didn't know Stephanie. I wouldn't have reacted to her getting a drink from the water fountain behind me. Instead, while standing doing nothing more than chatting with a friend, I somehow manged to drop my purse (I now believe I was bumped by someone at the water fountain).

Never missing a beat in my conversation with Rose, I reach down to pick up my purse. Also, never missing a beat, Rose says, "Oh...don't..." and points to other items on the floor that fell out of my purse. I glance and immediately interpret Rose's "Oh...don't..." appropriately to mean, "Don't forget your other stuff". I scoop everything into my purse and continue my animated conversation with Rose.

Apparently, at the exact same moment, Stephanie dropped her keys by the water fountain (did she bump me and cause me to drop my purse as she reached for her keys?). The keys managed to be in the same pile of purse debris that I scooped into my purse. How Stephanie missed this, I don't know. How I missed it is a similar mystery.

One of the unsolvable mysteries surrounding the quantum physics of handbags.

From the archives: Stargate: Coach, episode 2, a blog post circa 2009

Some Friday in March 2009.

I left at 9:00 am for the BNP Paribas Open with 3 tennis friends. The BNP Paribas Open is played at Indian Wells out in the desert (near Palm Springs). It's a great tournament. It's the 5th largest in the world, right after the four Grand Slam tournaments. We were excited to be going.

I was riding in the back seat of my girlfriend's super cab pickup. As we approached the tournament, I decided to move the essentials from my handbag into pockets of my backpack, so that I would only need one bag inside.

I reached in and pulled out my sunglasses, my blackberry, my wallet and a pen. Then, I noticed there was a set of keys floating around in the bottom. I thought, "that's weird" because I have a little pocket on the side of the purse where I stash my keys.

I pulled the keys out and realized to my astonishment that I had never seen the keys in my life. My tennis friends came to the only conclusion possible. Someone must have dropped the keys in my handbag during a tennis match or tennis practice. We do tend to pile our tennis bags and purses over to the side. It would be really easy to do.

I was puzzling about how I was EVER going to find the owner of the keys. I was even more puzzled by the mystery of how someone could lose their keys in MY purse without discovering it! But there was tennis to be watched. I promptly stuck that thought in the back of my mind for later.

Later that day, while sitting watching a match, I received an email from my school. It was from someone named Stephanie. She sent an email to the entire school! She announced that she lost her keys in Burkle Hall. Well, I was in Burkle Hall the previous night!

I emailed her back and said "I have them". I gave her my phone number. Well, she tried to call me right away (of course, who wouldn't?). Problem was, I was still sitting in a tennis match. One doesn't take phone calls in the stands at a tennis match. It is simply NOT done! I thought everyone KNEW that!

I didn't answer the phone of course. I waited until the changeover between odd games. I called and just managed to get out my name and describe the keys before the match started again. I said, "I've got to go. I'm at a tennis match".

She said, "Oh, are you playing?"

"No," I said, "But I have to hang up now. I really have to go" She kept talking. I hung up. It was more "right" to be rude to one person than to be rude to the dozens of people sitting around me trying to watch the match.

We tried several other times to discuss the keys. It was difficult because another time when I called her she didn't have time to talk to me. She kept leaving me message saying she needed to talk to me "as soon as possible" and get the keys back "as soon as possible". I kept trying to explain to her that unless she had a ride out to Indian Wells, there was no way she was getting her keys back until the next day. I guess she was a bit panicky, but I just couldn't seem to get her to understand that I wasn't right around the block.

She asked me more than once in a bit of an accusing tone how I had come to have the keys. Honestly, why would I "take" her keys? What motive could I possibly have?

Well, anyway, she kept telling a disjointed story involving the drinking fountain in Burkle Hall. Something about how she dropped her keys and when she reached down for them, they weren't there. I couldn't make the connection.

The only possible explanation was that my handbag was indeed a wormhole and it had sucked the keys right out of the alternate universe in which we shared the space by the water fountain at Burkle Hall.

Stay tuned until tomorrow's exciting conclusion (er, prequel?) to the story.

From the archives: Stargate: Coach, episode, er, 1? a blog post circa 2009

Some Saturday, March 2009.

Well, first, my handbag is NOT Coach. Not Fossil either. Not Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Prada or anything else remotely classy. It is just something I picked up at WalMart. When I bought it, my girlfriend Connie said, “I hate to tell you, but honey, you just bought a black hole.” Little did I realize how prophetic she was!

The story starts at the end and goes backward in a classic Sci Fi plot affectation. I spent Saturday morning taking the train to my school in Claremont. Our story opens (er, closes) in the computer lab. I am there to pass off a set of car keys to a person I haven’t met.

Lab Attendant (reluctantly pulling iPod earbuds out of his ears): Can I help you?

Me: Yes, can I leave these keys with you? Someone named Stephanie will be along soon to pick them up.”

Lab Attendant (eyeing me suspiciously): What is her last name?

Me: “Er, I don’t know.”

“What does she look like?”

By this point, I am stammering. “Mmmm…I don’t know.”

“How will I know who she is?” he asks.

“Well, you see, I have an email here on my Blackberry that has her last name in it. But I can’t access it because my Blackberry battery died on the way here.”

The lab attendant reaches for his earbuds, clearly giving me up as a hopeless case. Then, I get a brain wave! I have my computer with me. I’ll just fire up my computer, download the email and find Stephanie’s last name.

About this time, a beautiful, young, blonde walks in, surly escort in tow. With a huge sigh of relief, I ask, “Stephanie?”

Well, not to belabor the point, but I dutifully turn over the keys, she says a perfunctory, “Thank you.”

Then, she says – if you can believe this – “I’m still fuzzy on how you came to have these keys in your purse.” She says it with almost – but not quite – an accusatory tone. Well, by this time, I’ve worked out the whole story, but it’s easier to just say, “Oh, my handbag is a gateway to an alternate universe,” smile kindly and flounce out of the room, which is of course NOT what I did, but makes for a much better story. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

Stay tuned to this space for the next (er, previous) installment of Stargate: SG Coach.

Crime dramas, tennis and white wine?

CSI: NY and Blue Bloods, a tennis match captained (but not played) and a pinot grigio. Good way to end a Saturday? I think so. I now plan to fall asleep on my couch while watching the Australian Open. A few random thoughts...

• Tommy Robredo has nice legs (even in comparison to his opponent Roger Federer).
• Tom Selleck has nice everything (I'm still steaming from watching his brooding portrayal of Police Commissioner Reagan. Blue Bloods is probably may favorite right now.)
• I wish Darren Cahill called more tennis matches. I just love listening to him talk (Aussie accent)!