Author: fifteenkey (Page 29 of 96)

Most of yesterday was hurried, and that’s not a good word when much of it was spent attempting to execute golf shots, not to be confused with executing golf balls. While I didn’t mean to kill any, I left several abandoned in the woods, their well-being unknown. My rushed day actually began Thursday night, the result of another health-care fiction. Not the Republican “death panel” kind, but more of the “oh my god, I’m gonna die… Nevermind, I’m fine… again.” Anyway, dropping my boy off at oh-seven thirty school put my 9AM presence for a shotgun start in jeopardy. Rather than stress over it for the next 90 minutes, I took the back roads to Windham, NH and fired up the newly downloaded “Black and Blue” ($5 at bigasssouthamericanriver.com).

If you’re just a casual Stones fan, and I am compared to some, (1981’s “Tattoo You” was my last purchase and it was on vinyl) Black and Blue transitioned the band from Mick Taylor to Ronnie Wood guitar playing and toward the brilliant “Some Girls” in 1978. The record sprinkles reggae, jazz, a big dollop of funk provided by Billy Preston, and some white boy soul from Mick on “Fool to Cry.” Winding along the rural route, this fool repeated that one a few times. Sometimes words speak right to you. Not the way the dog did to “Son of Sam” David Berkowitz, but to where you are.

Fresh off some excellent sing along with Mick, I arrived at 8:58, threw on my spikes, didn’t find my glove, and was hustled out to #17 past the cat calls and images of people pointing at watches while shaking their squashes disapprovingly. You don’t be late for “the Funnyman.” “You gotta hit” was the first thing I heard from the trio with their heads hung, reflective of their first hole ineptness. I casually informed them this would be my first swing of 2009 and it would be best if they simply lowered their expectations. I hit a straight line drive about 200 yards into the left fringe, safe. For the next dozen holes I’m sure my teammates essentially flat lined their expectations of the game I brought. By our last 3 or 4 we divoted the dream of Funnyman glory, and were mentally already drinking. Not surprisingly, we all began having more fun and playing better. I hit a second shot 3-wood about 200 yards to within 15’ of the pin. That one shot plus 3 Advil “Farved” me into a return next year.

Discussion of my evening plan prompted a crude, but hilarious bad golf analogy from cart-partner Tony, and then it was off to it. Hours later, as I trailed off a vacation story about accidentally finding the restaurant from the film “Sideways,” I ordered a Pinot Noir from the bartender. “We have blah-blah-blah or Hitching Post.” Uh, yeah. From there the frenetic pace of the day dissolved…

“Daddy you’re a fool to cry
And it makes me wonder why.”

Jagger/Richards

Someone had to do it, and as the “father of modern punctuation,” the Italian printer Aldus Manutius the Elder delivered the semicolon. On the right-brain side of the ledger, ol’ Aldus is also credited with inventing the italics typeface. For the record, he’s not responsible for semicolon use as a wink. 😉 Here’s a good description of its use.

My issue with the semicolon is its overuse “separating closely related independent clauses,” or “dealing with two sentences that can’t keep their hands off each other.”1. An old acquaintance used to pepper sentences with semicolons, and too much pepper overwhelms the senses, distorting the flavor of the dish. Robin L. Simmons writes, “Semicolons are like glasses of champagne; save them for special occasions.”

I agree. Semicolon use is considered by some a sign of educational achievement, at least in grammar, while others read snobbery. Overuse creates imagery of the author leaning out over the Empire State’s edge screaming, “I AM SMART!!! I USE THE SEMICOLOOOOONNNN!!!” Well, overreaching on analogy isn’t good either. To put a succinct point on it, the semicolon lacks the closure of a period. In most of the independent clause scenarios a comma gets the job done, while a period may simply end the confusion.

“When Hemingway killed himself he put a period at the end of his life. Old age is more like a semicolon.” – Kurt Vonnegut

1. By Stephanie

It’s said one should not look too closely at the legislative process of how our laws are made. That’s never been more true as the locusts of the health care lobby swarm to strip bare any threat to the profits of their clients, but I digress…

Another thing to avoid is web metrics. Recently I was digesting some Google Analytics for this space and discovered the #1 search term bringing people here is “leo daley sucks.” Hmmm… That got me thinking:

• Is it me being searched?
• Is is one person or many?
• Do I in fact, suck?

I can’t definitively answer 1 or 2, but my opinion on #3 is “no,” I don’t suck. However, if you have come here 30 times in the last 30 days using this amusing route, please let us all know. I could be wrong!

For the youngest child of nine, living up to the accomplishments of older siblings must have been daunting when the expectation of the father was for the sons to be President. Heap upon that the early, violent demise of your three older brothers, plus a deadly personal mistake, and it’s amazing Ted Kennedy didn’t just fade away. Yet, fighting through drunken demons and unattainable family expectations, “the lion of the Senate” built a life his brothers surely would have envied.

I was never a big fan of Ted Kennedy. A young man of lesser privilege would have spent more time on the floor of a Massachusetts prison than that of the Senate for his actions at Chappaquiddick, and it’s entitlement like that tearing at the fabric of America, but it seems he spent the balance of his life atoning for that deadly night.

When I tuned into coverage of his memorial, hundreds of his staffers were assembled near his office in Washington and elevated their applause upon the emergence of the Senators wife, Vicki. She seems a woman with all the grace of Jackie Kennedy, and based on the reporting, it’s Victoria Reggie Kennedy who pulled Ted Kennedy back from a life of guilty self-destruction, and into a place where love allowed life to be lived fully.

As military honor guards lowered a wooden box to the top of a symbolic resting place, darkness shrouded the glare this family has endured for a half century. When the grandchildren tearfully spoke, we only heard. When the flag was precisely folded and presented to the widow, only the flicker of one brother and the ideals of another threw light. It was private and perfect. Sometime during those moments, I heard these words sung in my head. The man lived a full life, although much of it was with fear of his brothers’ fate, and sixteen months ago fate delivered a death sentence. Now all that was left for Ted Kennedy was release.

“Oh, dear dad, can you see me now
I am myself, like you somehow
Ill wait up in the dark for you to speak to me
Ill open up…
Release me…”

Pearl Jam – “Release”
Songwriters: Krusen, Stone Gossard, Mike Ament, Mike Mccready, Eddie Vedder

I updated my Quicken file with all the vacation expenses Kyle and I incurred during our “best vacation ever” (so far), but as Mo Vaughn once said, “It ain’t about the money.” In my effort to document the trip, I’ve come up with some numbers I find interesting. Maybe you will too.

• Days – 14 – August 9 to 22
• Hours spent on work – Less than 1
• Miles Driven – 2,812
• Longest – 415 miles – Tucson to San Diego
• Shortest – 88 miles – SF to Sacramento
• States – 3 – Arizona, California, Nevada
• National Parks – 3 – Death Valley, Grand Canyon, Yosemite
• Border Patrol Stops – 3 along I8 between Tucson and San Diego
• Casinos – 3 – Caesar’s, Luxor, Mandalay Bay
• Miles Flown – 4,731
• Tires Blown – 1
• Wine Tasting Fee – $10 at V. Sattui (a first, but they can get it)
• Art Visiting Free – Cornerstone Gardens in Napa which used to have a fee…
• California Wildfires Caused by Pot Growers Seen – 1
• Hotels – 9
• Restaurant Chains – 1 – Maggiano’s in Vegas (Kyle request)
• Bags of ice – 3
• Workouts – 3 – Tucson, Sacramento and Vegas
• Highest Overnight Parking Fee – $50 – SF Hyatt
• Lowest – $0
• Hours listening to “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” – 21
• Hours listening to Celine Dion – Too many…
• Tolls – None!
• Debit card fee at a gas station – $0.35 – Never heard of this one…
• Laundromats – 1
• Bottles of Maker’s Mark – 1 with my life-long friend, Mike Gonnella
• Cigars – 1
• Huevos Rancheros for Breakfast – 5
• High Temp – 109 along I8 between Tucson/SD and in Death Valley
• Low Temp – 58 in SF, but it felt pretty cold in Sacramento too…
• Rain – Some spitting in Phoenix our last night, but it registered as 0 inches.
• Highest Elevation – 9,943 feet – Tioga Pass, our eastern exit point from Yosemite National Park.
• Lowest Elevation – 196 feet below sea level – Route 190 in Death Valley
• Maximum Highway Grade – 6% in many mountain ascents and descents
• Red rocks taken from Sedona – 3 (1 given to Nina Gonnella)
• Pounds – -1, but I was hoping for better.
• Pictures – 338
• Memories – immeasurable – and the only metric that matters.

There’s really not much I can add to these 1977 stills except to note the talents of the costume designers and make-up artist…

Kyle is really enjoying his First Class experience with bottomless “Bloody Mary” mix in glass with lime, hot nuts and real food. He had corn flakes on the Phoenix-Chicago leg and is now salivating at the grilled salmon. For a guy who relishes the Olive Garden, this food is pretty tasty. Just looking at his culinary anticipating eyes is more frosting on a perfect vacation cake that was not left out in the rain.

Being served a meal on a plane may be Kyle’s most fun dining experience, but earlier research indicates the Chilean Sea Bass in a curry reduction as San Francisco’s Tadich Grill was his favorite meal. Here are some other bests and worsts of the trip.

Drive
Best: Pismo Beach to SF along the PCH.
Worst: Tucson to San Diego when we came 26 miles from no gas.

Surprise
Best: Finding the Hitching Post on a random exit during favorite drive…
Worst: $25 parking fee/night in a lot at the Mission Bay Hilton.

Hotel
Best: Trump in Vegas – Very nice accommodations, pool, and beds.
Worst: Trump in Vegas – No personality whatsoever. Next time in Vegas I’d like to try the Mandalay Bay affiliated “The Hotel.” It reeked of cool.

Beef Jerky
Best: Local teriyaki in Bishop, CA, but it was $34.95/lb and Kyle ate it all. He said it was delicious…
Worst: $9.99 bag of “Jim Beam” branded corporate crap at DFW.

Tourist Trap
Best: Titanic Exhibit at Luxor – Included a 100% scale reconstruction of the Grand Staircase.
Worst: $8 for chips and a Coke at the San Diego Zoo.

Experience
Best: Catching up with Mike G and his family.
Worst: Changing a flat tire on a 6 lane highway near dusk outside SF.

Sedona, Arizona is famous for its vortexes, or “highly concentrated energies conducive to prayer, meditation and healing.”

Our itinerary was pretty well planned, and included highlights like San Diego’s beautiful zoo, the Queen Mary, the Pacific Coast Highway, the Korn family, Yosemite, Death Valley, the Lion King in Vegas, the rust red beauty of Sedona, and the canyon grand, but hanging out in a honky-tonk Karaoke bar with my friend Michael Gonnella, his girls and my son was at the top of the list and was a late addition to our own South by Southwest 2009.

Taking advantage of Arizona’s 75 mile per hour speed allowance, we sailed South down the long, wide lanes of I17 from Sedona to Anthem, Arizona in about an hour to Dillard’s digs. Almost immediately the old photo albums came out with pictures that trace back some 35 years including early high school and college snaps documenting our desert life, full KISS regalia and our house-rousing “air-band” performance of AC/DC’s “Whole Lotta Rosie.” And yes, in a rip-off of pal RustedRobot’s recent series of hilarious archive photo commentary, I’ll have some doozies gracing this site soon.

While Kyle made himself at home watching a movie in Mike’s desert decorated room, we drove to the Boulder Creek High School to pick up Nina, Mike’s daughter I hadn’t seen since she was a toddler. Now 16, Nina possesses the beauty of Mike’s mom and the heart of her dad. She and Kyle chatted up some “Harry Potter” as she baked muffins to take to her friend’s house. A short time later, 6 year old Anna arrived and proceeded to spin like a top for the next several hours, peaking back at her mom’s with a delicious and genuine Italian gelato from mom’s gelato shop. The rambunctious Anna is a near clone of her big sis with the marked difference of sparkly blue eyes in place of Nina’s doe brown. Mike and Elena have two beautiful girls.

Prior to our gelato break though, there were three hours of drinks, grub and singing at Mike’s throw down, the Roadrunner. Mike opened for Kyle warming up the crowd with “Runaway Train” by Soul Asylum, followed up with Kyle’s too-early-in-the-show rendition of “My Heart Will Go On.” (Video at 11…) I spent most of the night meeting Mike’s many and mostly-female friends and avoiding singing by telling Nina stories of her dad’s early days… Like Megan and her dad, Nina now lives full-time with Mike and really adores him. She enjoyed hearing the stories, but most of them served either as confirmation her dad’s yarns were true, or that we collaborated on them, which I recall we had to do often as misguided youth.

As for my boy, it was certainly a first for him being in a bar, albeit outdoors enjoying an overcast cool breeze, lightning and even some desert rain, but the fact he could be handed a mike to sing whenever he wanted made it everlasting for him. And for me. Seeing the smile on his face and the excitement in his voice delivered more healing energy than any vortex ever could.

Last night in Sedona included two of my best friends, my son Kyle and Michael Gonnella. After dining Mexicano, we grabbed cigars (2), a bottle of Maker’s Mark, two nips of Absinthe, plus ice, then retreated to the balcony overlooking red rocks and eventually overlooked by a sky of stars I haven’t seen in a very long time. If you were to see him on the street today, you’d think “Biker” from the tattoos, head scarf and black leather vest, but as I learned, he’s so much more. Two words that come to mind after our hours of conversation are “heart” and “soul.” I knew about the heart already. He is the toughest person I know and his story of sustaining a double leg fracture two years ago during an exhibition with real pro wrestlers reinforced both the “heart” and the “crazy” traits I remember. Most enlightening though was hearing him speak about his children and his attempts to instill the spirit of the Navajo Ten Commandments in his eldest Nina, I better understood the soul part and why he signs every email with “Peace.”

We had a great time reminiscing and filling in gaps like loose grout in our life’s mosaic. There was definitely one disagreement about the infamous “hot dog with everything” incident the summer (circa 1974) we worked my Dad’s food concession on Revere Beach. Let’s just say one difficult customer earned a chapter in “Kitchen Confidential,” and I’ll just leave it at that.

By the time I had eaten my words about us “not doing a very good job on the Maker’s,” the cigars were cinder and my boy was long asleep, we had recounted about 30 years of women, wives, children, music, working and living. We’ll catch up some more Friday when we meet Nina and head to Mike’s favorite karaoke joint. Kyle’s really looking forward to singing his heart out in public. I just hope they have some Celine Dion…

Navajo Ten Commandments

1. The Earth is our Mother; care for Her
2. Honor all your relations.
3. Open your heart and soul to the Great Spirit.
4. All life is sacred; treat all beings with respect.
5. Take from the Earth what is needed and nothing more.
6. Do what needs to be done for the good of all.
7. Give constant thanks to the Great Spirit for each day.
8. Speak the truth but only for the good in others.
9. Follow the rythms of Nature.
10. Enjoy life’s journey; but leave no tracks.

We got a pretty early start (for us) on Sunday for the Sacramento – Yosemite – Mammoth Lakes leg. I’m disappointed we didn’t get to see 2 of the 3 friends/family we hoped to see in California’s Capital, but we doubled down with the Korn Family and had a great time. Kyle felt so at home with them and as a special bonus, all the brothers Korn were in town. I hadn’t seen Michael’s brothers Christopher and Patrick since the great bachelor party weekend in Chicago for Michael back on Memorial Day weekend ten years ago! As for the other two, one was unable to see us due to some personal issues, and the last I can’t really say. I tried.

One thing to consider when planning to see epic National Parks like Yosemite (Sunday) and Death Valley (today) is the white knuckle driving conditions up and down some of the narrow (no shoulder) and steep inclines. Add to that the absence of guardrails on curves above sheer terror drops and, well, let’s just say it inhibits visions of grandeur. As for the parks themselves, I’m not going to attempt written description, but I’ll try to make it up to you in pictures later after I’ve had more time for the scenes to simmer.

When visits to National Parks highlight an itinerary, stops in places like Mammoth Lakes or Bishop, California are relegated to a sub-head in the mental trip-kit. Still, for some reason the hotel manager planted image of bears ripping the doors off my rented Altima for a scrap of beef jerky will stay with me for a while and limited my slumber in Mammoth Lakes. Bishop was an hour South of Yogi-ville and provided my best meal of the trip, Chili Verde and eggs over easy at the fantastic Petite Pantry. This family run desert jewel is headlined by the Master of the House, Jose Jimenez. He whirled around the little place, taking great care of every table and entertaining travelers and locals with funny one-liners for the locals and stories for all.

Hours later, as I soaked like an olive in gin with just a vapor of vermouth, vacation continued to creep up on me like ascending the first big hill of a wooden coaster. With the massive golden wall of the Trump reflecting the desert sky and Kyle relaxing on a nearby lounger, I stared out into nowhere and thought about nothing. (Well, I did think of the olive in gin / vapor vermouth line there…) One thing’s for sure: Nowhere and nothing is a place I wanted this vacation to take me.

“The world about us would be desolate
Except for the world within us.”

– Wallace Stevens