If she were dead in there I'd never know

I've been living in my house now for well over a year, but I've never seen my next door neighbor.

I hear she's quite old. I just hope her mummified body isn't sitting in there in front of a blaring TV. If it were, I can only imagine what would happen if Keith Richards came by for a visit.

Tiger

Hearing all the news lately about how Bay Meadows Racecourse will be shutting down at the end of 2007 has kept the venue at the top of my mind. Therefore, I thought tonight was as good as any to begin the 2007 Bay Meadows Farewell Tour.

Jeff and I met at Shitty Pub in lovely, regenerated downtown Redwood City. After a pint or two, we hit the train up to the track.

Getting on Caltain always conjures up some memories, but the seats are really starting to get the best of me. The seats are really awful. You know, the cloth type of seats that absorb everything, with a preference for human bodily fluids? Why don't they install the waterproof seating that can just be hosed down? That's what we need. Those new trains are disgusting!

Anyway, where was I?

Oh yeah, so Jeff and I get to the track and "upgrade" to the $6 Club House section, as Jeff has a hard time relating to the common man in the Grandstand. We quickly walked toward the paddock bar and Jeff turned to me and said, "How much to you bet that Tiger's working?"

"Pretty good chance," I said. "She's always here."

Tiger is the 30-something bartender who works the paddock bar, and she has a striking resemblance to Tiger Woods. But her name is Michelle, not Tiger, and people don't even call her Tiger as a nickname. Giving the topic some analysis, Jeff and I determined that it probably wouldn't be a compliment to any woman to be told she resembles Tiger Woods. Therefore, I continue to bite my tongue when I'm at Bay Meadows (but my blog is a different story!).

Anyway, Tiger fetched us a few brews and we got down to the tough analysis with the track program and Daily Racing Form. Since Jeff told me he'd be betting on horse #4, Helmsman Hank, I abandoned my initial instinct to bet on #4 and I put my money on #1, Swiss Sonata, ridden by Russell Baze. A few minutes later I added an exacta bet on the 4 horse.

Sure enough, Swiss Sonata won the race in flying colors and Helmsman Hank brought up the rear. The good news is that I won my $10 WPS bet on Swiss Sonata. The bad news is that I donated $20 to the kitty when I foolishly put down the exacta bet with Hank on the slip.

Jeff had already turned the page before I got back with my winnings.

My strategy for Race 2 was to bet big on the favorites. While #4, Cali Randi, and #5, Chasin' Chasen, were technically the two favorites, something about #3, Curry Wray, caught my attention. Maybe it was my penchant for Indian women. Whatever it was, when I got to the betting machine I entered a 3-4 extacta box, when it probably should have been a bet on the 3-5 horses, the true favorites.

Steering clear of anything remotely smelling of curry, Jeff bet the 4-5 exacta.

A few minutes later, my craving for curry paid off. Curry Wray took first, and Cali Randi took second. I had money on both the exacta and Curry Wray, so things paid off nicely for Leroy. Jeff, on the other hand, was almost crying in his beer. There's nothing worse than having 1/2 of your exacta.

Unless you have 2/3 of your trifecta. Which is what happened to me in races 3 and 4.

Jeff and I picked up a side bet or two the rest of the way, and I plopped down a WPS bet on #2 two horse on race 8 before we caught the train back home. As I write this, I just checked my slip and #2 placed. My $30 bet pays $85.

I guess that's better than a kick in the head. But I gotta go back to Bay Meadows to get my money.

I wonder if Tiger will be there?

The Lesbians

I drove up to the ski cabin for some more winter fun this weekend. Ana, Tracey and Matt were up again, but so was another of my new cabin mates, Grace. Grace is very cool and fun, but Grace is an out-of-the-closet Lesbian. In fact, Grace's girlfriend, Maria, was up over St. Patrick's Day.

Grace didn't bring Maria this week, but she did bring two of her lesbian friends, Ann and Mary, with her Friday night. Two more joined us on Saturday night.

While skiing with Nunzio, a friend from last year's cabin, on Saturday, we got talking about the lesbians in my new ski cabin.

"Are they lipstick lesbians?" asked Nunzio.

"Well, maybe not lipstick lesbians," I answered, "but not bull dykes, either," I said.

In all honesty, the degree of dykeness varied among the group. You would never guess Grace was gay, nor Maria. Of Graces friends this weekend, Ann and Mary had that look. But the other two didn't.

Wow, with seven girls and only two guys in the house this weekend, just think of all the fun we could have had. Or how much fun I missed out on. All five lesbians shared one room.

St. Paddy's Day 2007

The combination of global warning and my Hawaii trip resulted in a later than usual start to the 2007 ski season for me. Nonetheless, I finally made it up to Lake Tahoe last night and caught up with some of my ski buddies from last year and met some of my new cabin mates for this year. Our house is just off Alpine Meadows Drive, about one mile from the Alpine Meadows parking lot. Even given that proximity, we all chose to drive the three miles over to Squaw Valley this morning, as Squaw is by far the group preference.

After taking the Funitel up the mountain, we headed immediately over to Granite Chief. The snow was a bit firm, but the areas getting sun softened-up quickly. After spending the morning on Granite Chief, we headed down to KT-22 and Red Dog before calling it a day. The skiing was indeed fun and my legs held up great, but it was the apres ski activities that would really test my endurance.

After a quick wardrobe change in the parking lot, we grabbed a table at the Blue Coyote Grill, right in the new Squaw Valley village. We had a view of the whole mountain, in fact I'd venture to guess we had the best table in the village.

















Life is good.

We all feasted on burgers and beer, and after the sun went down we headed to the Auld Dubliner, the only Irish Pub in the village. Needless to say, the place had been busy all day. People in the bar were fucked-up already, and it wasn't even 7:00 p.m. yet.

















But it was St. Patrick's Day.

As luck would have it, we got a table front and center in front of the band. Too bad the bands pretty much sucked all night. One of my new cabin mates, JK, and I ordered the first round from the bar. A few minutes later Matt came by with another round. Our table was full of beer, and we just got there.
Ana was all over it, as one would expect a 100% Irish girl to be on this, the holiest of Irish holidays.


















Tracey, not much of a beer drinker, opted for a G&T.






























We settled in and met all kinds of folks from all over.

As the night went on, the place became more and more sloppy.


















Everyone was Irish, and kisses were free.

Dear Burger King

Is it any wonder Burger King sales have been slumping for years? You have the scariest icon of the fast food industry. The "Burger King" character you show in your TV spots is enough to scare the bejesus out of any kid. And this should be one of your strong points. After all, your competition is a couple of clowns.

Free range chicken

What's up with all the chickens running around on Kaua'i? Seems like they are everywhere!





















I'm told they escaped their confines back in 1992 during Huricane Iniki and have roamed free and propogated ever since. Now that's what I call free range chicken.

Helicopter? Not for me, thanks.

After a day of lounging around The Islander on the Beach, I grabbed a seat at the pool bar. There was a TV on in the background, and a special report came on reporting that a Kaua'i helicopter crashed trying to land at the Princeville airport and four people died.

I can't believe it! One of the main reasons I decided to try powered hangliding yesterday was because I thought it was an interesting alternative to a helicopter tour. And then today a helicopter crashes taking a similar tour! I've never been in a helicopter, but they scare me to death. Seems like I'm always hearing about another hilicopter crash somewhere.

What if I had never heard about the powered hangliding trips. Could I have been on that helicopter? I feel so sorry for the people killed and injured in that accident, but I'm so thankful I wasn't on that flight. This doesn't bode well for my chances of ever getting in a helicopter.

Birds In Paradise

I got up this morning before the crack of dawn. I needed to get down to the Port Allen airport before 7:00 a.m. for my two hour powered hanglider flight all the way around Kaua'i.

When I pre-booked the flight a few weeks ago, I booked it for the 80 minute "lesson." But last night Jerry, the owner of Birds In Paradise, called me to say he had another client who wanted to go up for two hours. Since Jerry wanted to take two powered hangliders up on this day and fly together, he gave me a discount on the longer flight.

At first I was a little scared, as I'm not big on heights. But Jerry did a good job to calm my nerves, and I was still more at ease with this flying concept than I was with a helicopter. And as everyone says, you haven't seen Kaua'i until you've seen it by air.

Jim, the other customer, was fired up to get going. He was going to fly with Jerry the owner, and I was going up with Mark, an Aussie who told me he'd flown "trikes" (they have three wheels) in Australia, China and Thailand before getting to Hawaii.

Mark and Jerry prepared the trikes for departure. Part of that process included loading film in the cameras on the wings of the two trikes and a DVD on Jerry's trike which would record Jim's flight.

After we got into our flight suites and got strapped in, it was time to take off. We "taxied" down the runway and then after a brief call to air traffic control, Jerry and Mark let 'er rip. We were off the ground in no time. These things are light, and only go 80 mph at top speed.

After about 5-10 minutes, we were over Waimea Canyon. This place is amazingly similar to the Grand Canyon, only much smaller in scale, and there were several waterfalls (note picture below).























After exploring the canyon and getting in the face of waterfalls, we headed over to the Na'Pali coast.
























This was completely different from what I saw on my drive on Monday. Na'Pali is amazing, and Mark knew it. He flies over this place on a regular basis and you could tell he was enjoying himself as much as I was.

Our two hour flight went by fast. We cruised all the way around the island, seeing many amazing island formations as well as off shore reefs, pods of whales and beachcombers who would wave as we passed.

Any way you slice it, this experience was very cool.

The garden island

What I had this morning could best be described as a world-class hangover. My body had been abused. I felt like I had been run over by a train, and in some ways I had.

I was lucky to make it to the airport in time for my 12:30 flight. I just wish all of my belongings made it with me, but due to distractions and my compromised state, I left several items back at the hotel. Just the cost of doing business, I guess.

In any event, I made my 30 minute flight from Honolulu to Lihue, Kaua'i. When I rented a Jeep Wrangler, the car rental agent didn't comment on my breath, so I assume most of the alcohol was gone. I still felt like crap, but I made it over to the Islander on the Beach, my home for the next five nights.

Upon check-in I was promptly upgraded from a partial ocean view room to an ocean front room. This was nice. I could have thrown a rock from my balcony into the ocean!

After grabbing a bite to eat at the nearby Coconut Marketplace, I drove north up the coast to check out the island. A 30 mile drive later, I was at the end of the road at the north end of Kaua'i, just as the famous Na'Pali coast begins.

There are too many sights in this area to even describe. Waterfalls, beaches, mountains, fish, birds, the whole nine yards. I tried to soak up as much as I could, but last night was still weighing on me. After a couple of hours, I headed back to the hotel for some R&R. After all, I have several more days to explore Kaua'i when I am better rested.

Tropical Itch

After grabbing some dinner and cruising Kalakaua Avenue a bit, I decided to stopy by the Marriott outside pool bar around 8:00 p.m. There was only a handful of people there, but I started talking to a guy named Tom who was having dinner and a drink a few seats away. Seems Tom was in Waikiki on business, lucky bastard.

After about one drink or so, three girls walk up and plopped down around the other corner of the rectangular bar. Tom and I give them a look, and they say hello. We weren't chatting long before one of the girls began staring at my hat.

"Does that say "Chico State?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I went there," she said.

The usual alumni banter went back and forth for a while, and she told me she was never there for Pioneer Days, and she graduated in 1992. If my drunk math served me right, that would make her about 37.

Just about the time I was thinking, "hmmm," a striking blonde sat in the chair between Tom and me. She quickly said hi and introduced herself as Tammy. She was here with her father who was not in good health. She had just put him to bed and came down for a drink. Without realizing it, Tom and I gave Tammy all of the attention. The girl from Chico and her friends left without us noticing.

Before long, the bartender was made his last call as the pool bar closed on Sunday nights at 10:00 p.m.. Tom, Tammy and I all ordered our last drinks. Then Tammy mentioned something about her boyfriend who wasn't with her on this trip. Tom smirked.

About ten minutes later, another blonde walked up to the bar. She wasn't as hot as Tammy, but everything was in the right place.

"I'd like a Pina Colada," she said to the bartender as she sat down to my left.

"Sorry dear," said the bartender. "Last call was ten minutes ago."

"What?" she asked, looking at Tammy, Tom and me.

"It's Sunday night, we close at 10:00," said the bartender.

The blonde, who introduced herself as Kim, stayed seated at the bar in joined into our conversation. A few minutes later, Kim could see our drinks were reaching bottom.

"Well, who wants to go over to Tiki's next door with me?" asked Kim.

Tom looked at Tammy. Tammy looked at Kim and then at me.

"No thanks, I gotta check on my dad," said Tammy.

Tom just stared forward out to the ocean.

Taking a quick assessment of my options and the potential outcomes, I said, "Why not, I'll go over there with you, I've been meaning to check that place out."

I got up, said good-bye to Tammy and Tom and headed over to Tiki's with Kim. On the short walk over, Kim walked close to me and brushed up to me several times. I had only known her a few minutes. Was she stumbling drunk, or was she sending me signals? I couldn't tell as my head was a bit cloudy.

We easily found a table outside at Tiki's and the waitress came over with a few cocktail menus. We looked over the menus, but Kim spotted the specials menu that decorated our table.

"What that?," asked Kim, pointing to the drink specials.

"Oh, the Tropical Itch?, asked the waitress. Kim nodded.

Smiling, I said, "I think I already have that."

Ignoring me, the waitress continued, "It's a blend of vodka, rum, Grand Mariner and passion fruit juice."

"Okay, I'll have one of those," said Kim.

"Why not, me too," I said.

As Kim and I talked I could hear a Midwestern accent coming through her speech, but she insisted she was from southern California. I had my doubts, but I went with it.

The waitress came by and we ordered another round. Just after the waitress left, I felt something tugging at my shorts under the table. As I looked across, I saw Kim smiling at me.

"What are you doing?" I asked Kim.

She said, "I'm scratching your tropical itch."

Duke's

After hiking up Diamond Head this morning in order to clear some of the booze out of my body, I decided to head down the beach to see if I could find any of the gang from the night before. As I casually walked passed the Sheraton Moana Surfrider, I saw a girl who looked like Maria, but it was hard to tell for sure as she had a pair of the big trendy ladies shades on. So I kept walking, hoping she'd might recognize me and give me a wave. But I got nothing. Maybe she was too shy to say hi. Or maybe it wasn't her at all.

I continued down to the end of the beach and then turned around and headed back. I noticed that a band had just started playing outside on the Patio at Duke's. I stopped in for a bit and listened to a couple of songs. While I doing so I spotted a perfect perch on the other side of the bar.

I walked over to my spot and leaded against the concrete wall. Girls were already dancing, and it was only about 4:30 in the afternoon. Then this amazing Asian woman came strolling across the patio. Everyone stopped to have a look as she walked by, especially the guy standing next to me. As he gawked, she stopped and looked back at him. He then gave her a nod of approval, at which point she turned and continued her slow and deliberate walk off the patio and on to the beach.

"This is looking pretty good," I thought to myself. Suddenly feeling much better, I stopped and asked the cocktail waitress for a Mai Tai. She accommodated my request in short order. It wasn't long before I ordered another.

The band was playing the usually party play list; Jimmy Buffet, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Santana, Van Morrison, etc., and the sun was shining brightly. Eventually an even better spot opened up for me and I made myself at home, downing two more beers in the process. About then the cocktail waitress came by again and asked, "would you like me to close out your tab?"

"No," I said, "I'm good for at least one more."

"Ok," said the waitress.

As I scratched my head wondering why she would ask me that, I heard the band thanking the crowd and their set ended. The the Duke's crew swooped in and started breaking down the band's gear. Finally I realized there would be no more band when dinner tables started sprouting up on the patio.

I saw the waitress.

"Maybe I will take my tab now," I said. She smiled.

Disappointed the band ended at sunset, I started thinking about Plan B.

There was one?

Last night turned out to be fairly uneventful, even for a Saturday night and all. So after a little morning grub and some shopping, I still needed more beach time. Therefore, I headed back down to the beach near the Surfrider.

I found a good plot on the sand not far from the Surfrider's beach bar and kicked back for an hour or two. Around the stroke of 4:00, I mosied on up to the beach bar for a brew. Since legally alcohol is not allowed on the beach in Hawaii, I sipped my beer while sitting on the wall between the Surfrider and the sand. I flipped on my iPod Shuffle, and felt like I was in paradise. Maybe I was. After ordering another beer, a man jumped over the wall to meet his friends sitting at the bar and commented, "Nice spot." I nodded in agreement.

Once my cup ran dry, I bellied up to the Surfrider beach bar once again. The man I saw earlier introduced himself as Charlie, a local, and his two friends, Roy and Michele. Turns out that Charlie is actually a native Austrian, but has lived in Hawaii for almost 20 years. He hasn't been home to Austria during that time, and has no plans to.

Roy is an old friend of Charlie's. Roy used to live in Honolulu, too, but moved back to Connecticut and married Michele. He was out visiting his old haunts, and his old buddy. The conversation flowed among us all, and so did the drinks. Eventually a few more of Charlie's friends met us down at the bar, as well as a few more random beach bums like me. One of them was Maria, and lets just say one big "mahalo" to the man in the sky for sending her.

As the sun set over Waikiki beach, we all were feeling really good. But once the sun set, it was time to think about a new locale.

"Why don't we go down to my house," said Charlie. "It's only about a ten minute walk."

The gang of us, about ten strong, decided a solid "yes". Charlie alluded to the fact that a certain leafy green might be available.

It took longer than Charlie said it would take to get to his house, but we made it. About then Charlie's friend called, and told him his girlfriend was looking for him.

"Why don't you just call her," I asked?

"Because she's Jewish," said Charlie, "and she observes the Sabbath."

That meant she couldn't use any electronic devices, including her cell phone.

While Charlie was dealing with that, I got talking with Maria. She was out from Arizona, and was toting a worthless friend. I sensed a vibe, but just about then the pipe came out. Charlie would make due on his promise.

The pipe went around. And around. Soon enough, we were all wondering how we got to Charlie's place, and more important, how we were going to get back.

We drank more beer, smoked more from the pipe and then we all finally realized it might be time to get going.

"It's still early," said Maria, as she looked at her watch. "It's only 11:30. Let's go out."

But just about the time I was going to suggest we split a cab back to the beach, I could see Maria's friend whispering in her ear. Then, after I went to the rest room as I got ready to leave, Maria was gone. At that point, I said goodbye to the gang and grabbed a cab back for the night.

Pool cue

Even with the two hour time difference, I didn't wake-up until 7:30 this morning. After grabbing some orange juice from the convenient ABC Store located in the lobby of the Marriott, I strolled down to the beach to see if I could find my new friends from last night. I really wasn't interested in as surfing lesson, but I wouldn't have minded a Japanese lesson. Nonetheless, they were no where to be found.

After walking down the beach a little further, I staked a claim in from of the Sheraton Moana Surfrider and soaked up the sites. After a few hours, the beach was getting a bit crowded and there was a boisterous couple behind me. Then, all of a sudden, I heard someone rip a long, loud fart. I took that as my cue to leave. I headed back to the pool at the Marriott and enjoyed a few afternoon Mai Tai's.

Local attraction

After checking into the Marriott Waikiki Resort & Spa, I unpacked a bit and took a tour of the hotel grounds and made a quick trip down to Waikiki Beach to evaluate my surroundings. After all, I was a newbie to Waikiki, my only previous trip to Hawaii was to Maui.

Eventually, I showered up and was ready for action. I headed down Kalakaua Avenue a ways and cut left on Lewers Street. Not far up the block I saw the Yard House, and it was already going off. I found a seat at the bar and ordered my favorite beer, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, from their 100+ beers on tap.

I had a beer, then another, and finally the fat guy next to me left. Just after I ordered a big burger to get my drinking foundation going, a woman approached and asked if she could take the seat next to me. I obliged. She introduced herself as Tomika.

Tomika was having a problem finding a beer she liked, so the bartender recommended a Hefeweizen. She tried it, but then asked for a sip of mine. I warned her of the dangers of the Pale Ale and its acquired taste, but she tried it anyway. Then she offered me a sip of hers.

My food finally came and I could see Tomika longingly looking at my French fries.

"Mind if I have one?" she asked in her Japanese accent.

"Of course not," I said. Then she had a few more.

I was half way through my burger when I noticed Tomika talking to a man next to her. Then she introduced him to me. Ako, a native Hawaiian, was a surf instructor down on Waikiki beach.

I could tell Ako had already had a few pops before he made it to the bar, as he had that glossy eyed look and he ordered me a beer.

"Are you here on vacation?" asked Ako.

"Yes, just getting away from California," I said.

Tomika helped herself to some more of my fries.

"Why down you come down to the beach for a surfing lesson tomorrow?" asked Ako. "I'll only charge you half price. I'm not in it for the money, I like to teach people about the Hawaiian culture, and surfing is a big part of it."

The conversation went on and on, and I could see Tomika was getting bored. Finally Ako left to go to the rest room.

"Thanks for talking to Ako," said Tomika.

"Oh sure, no problem," I said.

"He's my boyfriend, and when we go out he gets drunk and then we don't talk much," she said.

"Greeaat," I said sarcastically, for a number of reasons.

"He also gets jealous of me," Tomika continued. "He thinks I flirt too much."

"I don't know why he'd think that," I said.

Ako came back and the alcohol was really taking hold. He stood in between Tomika and me and rambled on and on about surfing, his land and Hawaii.

Eventually, Tomika came back in the conversation and encouraged me to take a surfing lesson from Ako.

"Why don't you come down to the beach tomorrow morning?" Tomika said. "Just look for me at the beach. I'll meet you around 6:00 a.m."

"Um, that's unlikely," I said. "You come from California, you'll wake up early in Hawaii."

"We'll see," I said.

About then, Ako's wheels were falling off. Tomika paid their check.

"I see you tomorrow morning?" she asked again.

"Maybe, but I can't promise," I said. "It depends on how late I stay out tonight."

"Well, do you need a ride home?" she asked.

"No, no, I'm fine. I walked over," I said.

"Wow, all the way from the beach?" she asked.

"Yes, " I said. "It was only five or six blocks."

"Ok then, I need to get Ako home," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Aloha

Once my plane landed at Honolulu International Airport, I picked up my bag from baggage claim and then got my car from National car rental. Instead of heading over to Waikiki right away, I decided to tour around the island a bit.

Using my handicapped sense of direction, I finally found my way north on Route 83. I stopped off for a few minutes to change into shorts and pull down the convertible top of my luxurious Chrysler Sebring. Then it was back to the road, and the beach. I made my way up to Ka'a'awa, then Hau'ula, and finally to Waimea Bay, home of Hawaii's legendary waves.

I placed most of my possessions in the trunk and locked it, then walked down to the beach. It was beautiful, and while there were a lot of cars parked nearby, the beach itself was wide open. This was the anti-Waikiki. Obviously, I was on the complete other side of the island.

After cruising the beach a bit and testing the water, I decided to move on. When I got back to my car, I noticed that someone had stolen my shoes that were on the back seat. "Welcome to Hawaii," I told myself.

My next stop was Hale'iwa, then I headed over to the big city, Waikiki, my home for the next four nights.