Welcome, International Visitor!

As I noted earlier, this site (really, the publishing side of things) has changed so much in the 5 years that I’ve done anything, has required me to poke around and investigate what’s possible and available.

In doing so, I see a number of visitors from around the world visiting these pages.

Don’t be shy… say “hello” or comment on the topic that caused you to get here.

I love travel and the idea that people from around the world are as close as the nearest keyboard.

I’ve been to the following countries/territories, and have enjoyed myself in each location:

• US (duh!, and fairly extensively)
• Puerto Rico
• Canada (Vancouver, Victoria, Ucluelet)
• Mexico (Cab0 San Lucas, Puerto Vallerta)
• England (London, Oxford, Cambridge)
• Ireland (Dublin, Galway)
• Scotland (Edinburgh, Aberdeen)
• Italy (Rome, Florence, Portovenere (Palmaria Island), Pisa
• France (Paris)
• Iceland (Reykjavik)

I’d happily revisit any of the above locations, but there are so many places I still want to see…

Where have you been, and were would you like to visit?

Speaking of…

intoxication.  I’ve spent my evening here pickling my liver with some fairly serviceable brown stuff, but nothing to get terribly excited over.

Was introduced to the delights of good alcohol a couple years ago, and have since had a hard time getting too excited about beer.

Not a fan of vodkas, but have enjoyed numerous whisk(e)y varietals.  Some favorites:

• Dalmore King Alexander III
• Johnnie Walker Blue
• Johnnie Walker Double Black
• Laphroaig 10-year Single Malt
• Pappy Van Winkle 15-year (assuming you can find it).  Like buttah!

In the area of tequila, I really like Chamucos.  I’ve only had the Reposado, but I like it.  Not the most common tequila out there, but it’s tasty and worth searching for.  If you’re idea of tequila is Cuervo, you’ve got a lot of homework ahead.

With all these to choose from, I’m having a hard time justifying beer any more…

WTF?!

It’s been years since I’ve posted anything, and now that I’m looking at what WordPress has become, I can’t figure out how to navigate the site.

I suppose I am partly to blame for not having been more active in managing my site but, really, these types of editors should be much more intuitive.

I guess I’m just crabby given my age and level of intoxication…

Drinking with Miguel

Sitting here at The Blitz Taproom in downtown Portland, 4 beers into our afternoon. I don’t remember the name of the first beers I had, but some of he best I’ve had in the last few years.

For lunch, I had the worst nachos known to man. Lots more drinking to be had over the next couple days; will update as necessary.

Test with iPhone app

Not sure how well this works using the iPhone app. Lots of nasty reviews. Will be interesting to see the final result.

I don’t use Facebook, Farmville is stupid…

 

http://www.komonews.com/news/national/106135653.html?ref=morestories

Story Published: Oct 28, 2010 at 12:52 PM PDT

Story Updated: Oct 28, 2010 at 12:52 PM PDT

Comments (46)

JACKSONVILLE, Fla. (AP) – A north Florida mother has pleaded guilty to shaking her baby to death after the boy’s crying interrupted her game on Facebook.

Alexandra V. Tobias pleaded guilty to second-degree murder on Wednesday and remains jailed.

The Florida Times-Union reports that she told investigators she was angered because the boy was crying while she was playing the game FarmVille.

The paper also reports that she told investigators she shook the boy, smoked a cigarette to compose herself and then shook him again.

She will be sentenced in December. State guidelines call for 25 to 50 years, but a prosecutor said it could be shorter than that.

A telephone message and an e-mail sent by The Associated Press to her attorney weren’t immediately returned.

Texas Rangers destroy NY Yankees

After the first game, I was afraid the Rangers were going to collapse under the pressure, and hand the Yankees another trip to the World Series.  Not only did that not happen, they demolished them and sent them packing after 6 games.  On every measureable metric, the Rangers dominated NY, and really showed no real weakness.  Texas’ offense simply over-powered the Yanks, and their pitching shut down one of the biggest run producing teams this year.

Once again, Alex Rodriguez was a no-show to the party.  When push comes to shove, it seems he just can’t get the job done.  A-Rod was the final out of the series.  How fitting.  I can only imagine how much fun the Texas fans had with that.  I would have loved to have been in the stadium while they showered him with their love and affection.  With the exception of last year’s performance in the World Series, A-Rod has been the original girly-man when it comes down to post-season performance.

Strangely, as much as I hate the Yankees, I didn’t hate them as much this year as I normally would.  I think the biggest factor is the death of Yankees owner, George Steinbrenner, this year.  I don’t know anything about the man, but I hated his attempt to buy a championship each year.  With the exception of last year’s win, the decade has been a championship drought for the pin stripes.  Throwing money at the problem obviously doesn’t solve it, so watching them flounder year after smug year has been a treat.  I think the best was when they were up 3-0 against Boston a few years back, and then lost the ALCS series.  How great was that?  And as much as I hate the Yankees, I have no animosity for Derek Jeter.  He’d done nothing but go out and play hard his entire career, without all the show-boating, drama-queen antics exhibited by the jackass at 3rd.

Enjoy the winter boys…  you earned it.

Desert Canyon getaway with the guys

Our James Rose 3rd Annual Memorial Golf trip, just completed, brings me to reflect on the events of the 3 days away from home.

I journeyed over to the Eastside, a trip I am loathe to take, but must every now and again to Apollo’s house.  We piled our clubs and bags into the car, and headed further east to Monroe, were we picked up Rick at his home.  We made our way to the liquor store (isn’t it nice now that some of the state liquor stores are open Sundays?).  A pint of Crown Royal was all I needed.

We then headed out to Orondo, where Desert Canyon Golf Resort is located.  We made good time, and were ahead of the other group of golfers by a fair amount.  When they finally made it into town, we hung out at the condo for a while before heading over to the mini-golf range.  A very nice all-grass course, and far more challenging than any of those clownish mini-golf places you see where you have to hit the ball through a clown’s mouth…  Of course, a couple of the guys were already half in the bag before we got there, and one of them made a vain attempt to retrieve his ball from the water hazard.  Needless to say, he wound up in the drink.  Not a big deal, as it was already dark, and we wanted to get to the restaurant/bar before it closed.  We made our way in, sat down and ordered some nachos and a couple pitchers of beer.  The nachos were less than spectacular, but given how late it was, it was almost to be expected.  After grubbing, we headed back to the room for an evening of stupidity.

It started off innocently enough, with a session of poker with a $20 buy-in.  Hmmm… I don’t know any poker games, and can ill afford to piss away my money, but what the hell.  I don’t even remember the game we were playing, but I was getting schooled.  I don’t think I won a single hand, as my cards were horrible.  Rick, did the vast majority of winning, and I was down to my last $5.  Screw this.  Let’s play Hi-Low.  Simple game, pots can get huge.  The first few times I called this game, it was over after the first or second hand.  No excitement there, but we finally got on a roll where one would expect to see a win, but the person to whom the cards was getting dealt got some bad hands.  At one point the pot was up well over $100.  Over time, it got to the point were no one could afford to match the pot, so we were taking out winnings in much smaller increments.  Rick, again, was the biggest beneficiary in this game, but I’d managed to pull out some sizeable winnings from the pot.  At the end of the evening, I’d managed to win back my initial $20, and clear $5 on top of that.  Not the quickest way to make a million, but it sure beat losing.

From there they evening got onto politics.  Apollo is a huge Republican, everyone else in the room seemed to be a Dem (or smart enough to not enter the fray).  The talk got hot, but I don’t think any of us took it too seriously.  At one point, Apollo came out of the bathroom and pushed O’Brien out of his seat.  O’Brien, like a little kid looking to see if anyone saw him fall off the swing and deciding whether or not he should cry, looked around the room to see if we saw him get pushed, and felt he needed to respond in some fashion.  He went semi-ballistic, and I wound up pulling him off Apollo.  What a joke…  Can’t we all just get along?  In a way, that sort of ruined the entire trip for me, and we hadn’t even played a hole of golf yet.  Apollo apologized, and things seemed to be brushed under the rug, but it was still awkward.  Folks eventually went to bed leaving Apollo, O’Brien, and me in the living room to talk.  Apollo eventually went to bed, where I was up with O’Brien until 5:30 in the morning talking.  Why me?  O’Brien finally went to his room to get some sleep, I slept on the couch until 8:30, when Tom and John headed out to buy some breakfast groceries.  The rest of the crew started stirring not long after that.

We knew that a tournament was scheduled for Monday, and that our tee times were scheduled for 3:10 and 3:20.  No problem.  We had the better part of a day to kill, so we kicked around the condo, had breakfast, and watched the tournament golfers approach the green and putt from our 2nd floor deck.  We finally decided it would be nice to get to the driving range to loosen up and find out of our swings needed some adjustment. 

We went to the clubhouse to get our buckets of balls, and were told that our tee times would have to be pushed back about 20 minutes because the tournament was going pretty slow.  Whatever.  We took our balls to the range, and I felt pretty good about my game.  That doesn’t always translate into a decent round, but it was nice to swing the club.  The weather was fantastic.  After the range, we headed back to the restaurant/bar for some drinks.  While there, we headed back to the clubhouse, only to be told we wouldn’t be able to get out until around 4. 

We eventually got out, but it was obvious we didn’t have time to get a full round in.  Based on our observations from the previous night about how quickly the sky darkened after the sun went behind the mountain range to the west of  the course, we guessed we’d be lucky to get 15 holes in.  One of our party members, never one to take the game seriously, focused more on drinking beer, than playing golf.  With a stated goal of drinking a beer a hole, expecting him to golf in a timely manner was out of the question.  Others were drinking as well, but not to that same level.  It certainly didn’t help our times.  We finished 9 and could see we were quickly running out of daylight.  If we couldn’t make it a full 18, we definitely wanted to play the course’s signature hole, a 632-yard monster overlooking the Columbia River.  We managed to get holes 10 and 11 in, then jetted to the 15th hole.  When we go to the 15th’s tee box, it was apparent that our beer drinking buddy had been thrown from the front of a cart and had ripped his shirt.  Why was he on the front of the cart?  Did I tell you about the beer he was drinking?  Oh yeah, he’d also combined that with a couple shots of Yukon Jack. 

We quickly compiled 2 teams of 3, and had a side bet that the losing team buys winning team 2 drinks.  Best ball.  I crushed a monster drive, Apollo had a great 2nd shot, and my 3rd brought us on the green.  2 putts and we made par.  The other team did not.  While quite dark now, we attempted to get in one last hole.  Some, wisely, didn’t even bother.  I hit and found my drive, but couldn’t see where the green was.  What’s the point?   It was then that we were called back to the clubhouse through our GPS screens, mounted in each cart.  Clever.

We turned in our carts, changed shoes and made it back to the restaurant/bar.  Everyone ordered up, the big drinker ordering a pitcher of beer.  Even before our food arrived, Big Drinker Boy, took a sip of water and showered the area in front of him with spray.  How appetizing.  Then his food came.  Wow, I have to say it looked like a steaming bowl of diarrhea.  Apparently, so did Big Drinker, because he got up and immediately left the table.  We were pretty sure he was going to be sick, but at least he’d make it to the bathroom, right?  I guess not.  A few minutes later, the waitress came by to let us know our friend hurled 3 times in the hall way leading to the bathroom.  John, got up to check on Big Drinker, but he’d already left the building and headed across the parking lot to the condo.  We ate our meals, paid up and went back to the room, expecting pure pandemonium.  None to be had – Big Drinker showered and had gone to bed.  Everyone else stayed up watch ESPN, I stepped out onto the deck to smoke my Cuban cigar (Thanks Jack!), and call the wife.  The blackness of the night, allowed me to look at one of the most star-filled skies I’ve ever seen.  Beautiful.  Everyone called it an early evening, which was probably best all the way around. 

The next day, Big Drinker, was up early and seemingly none the worse for wear.  Had that been me the night before, I would be completely done for the rest of the day…  After a quick breakfast and clean-up session around the condo, we headed over to the course and made our way to the first tee.  The weather was phenomenal, and we were never really held up, or holding anyone else up, even though we were playing a 6-some.  I’m not sure how we managed that, but we did.

On a personal note, I played some of the best golf I’ve ever played on the back nine.  I had some great tee shots, but what I really had a great time with were my irons.  Long, straight, and dead on the pin.  I made par on the 632 yard par 5 (on in 3, easy 2-putt) and made par on the 18th, blasting an iron from 170 yards out to within 2 feet of the pin.  I wish those last 9 holes could have been filmed for my future enjoyment, because I don’t often golf like that.  It was a lot of fun.

Will I go next year?  I don’t know.  I love the golfing and hanging out is fun, but I don’t really need to drama or stupidity.  I must be getting old.

BOOM! BOOM! So that’s what that was…

I was in the kitchen, the wife was in the living room.  I heard a deep thud, which could be felt in the kitchen.  I assumed she moved a piece of furniture, so I didn’t mention it.  A few seconds later, two MASSIVE booms shook the entire house.  I had no idea what the hell was going on, and wondered if our house’s foundation didn’t suffer sort of catastrophic failure.  I walked into the living room and the lady of the house looked as perplexed as I must have.  We stepped outside to see if we could make out the cause, and already neighbors from some of the surrounding houses were starting to pour out onto the street, all with the same unsure look on their faces.  I hazarded a guess with one of the neighbors that it might be a sonic boom (for lack of any other logical alternative), and he thought that was probably right.  Given that I’ve never heard a sonic boom before, I hoped that’s all it was a nothing more sinister.

A few minutes later, this article was posted on one of the local news sites, confirming that the noises were, in fact, sonic booms.  In reading the article, it’s clear that people from all around the Puget Sound heard them (and were equally startled), which got me to wondering from how far away can one hear a sonic boom.  I never thought of sound been able to travel very well, but I’m apparently wrong on that front. 

Quote

F-15s racing to Seattle create sonic booms heard across area

Too damn hot to enjoy doing anything, Part II

Just coming to the end of another hot streak.  3 days in the mid-upper 90s is more than I care to endure.  Today will be the last really warm day before getting back into the pleasant 70s.

Managed to get out and get a little weeding/planting done before it got too hot.  Took care of most of the purslane that is once again taking over the front bed.  It was only a few weeks ago that we had a friend over and commented on it.  She knew what it was, and after telling me, I went inside to confirm it on Wikipedia.  Sure enough.  They refer to it as “an exotic weed”, but it is also an ingredient used in mole, which is how she came to learn of it.  It’s very fast growing, but easy to pull out, so if I don’t get around to getting it all, there are worse things.  The fact that it grows very low to the ground also makes me a bit more tolerant to its existence.

Dug out the old dead pansies and tulips that were in a planter up near the house, and replaced them with some herbs the wife wanted to grow.  Sage, chives, and tarragon.  Will we ever use any of them?  Not on your life, but at least it looks better than the dead crap they replaced.  After planting and watering them, I told my wife that they are her responsibility to care for.  I’ve already got enough to look after and I wasn’t looking to add to my list of chores.  If I’m out there watering, I’ll hit them with a shot of water, but I’m not taking the heat if they’re dead in a week.

The weather should be nice enough over the next 6 weeks or so, and will provide me with a window to get out and paint the railing around the entry way and over the garage.  I stripped it a couple years ago, and made a feeble attempt at the end of last season to sand the rust and paint, but the weather turned south sooner than I’d hoped.  It MUST be completed before school starts up again.

A big chunk of time off, with WAY too many tasks to complete.