This past weekend I went to a San Diego Gulls hockey game with my Pop. I'm not much of a hockey fan (as was evident when I got up to leave after what I thought was the end of the second half. Apparently there are three periods to hockey...or as my usually intelligent Dad said, "In hockey they play three quarters.") but live hockey is a blast. No stops for substitutions, few penalties and great sound effects against the ice. There weren't even any fights...aside from the one between my Dad and I about the "skill" of the Gulls Cheerleaders. Go Gulls! ;)
Been busy...but this little movie makes me smile and smile and smile. It's my cousin's baby taking her first steps. Congratulations on expanding your new world Harper Lee!
Harper and Kaya drumming...
Happy B-day Pops! My Dad rules. I hope he has a wonderful birthday...he deserves it.
Awwww yeah (I'm the blondie in red)
No trip to Vegas is complete without making a complete ass of yourself. The groom-to-be felt strongly that a "Disco Night" with his friends was pertinent to his having a long and happy marriage. I wore a kick ass blue leisure suit and walked with a swagger. Yes it was fun, yes we made asses of ourselves. Below you'll see the crew and to reach full ass-making potential, I've indicated which one is me.
Won't you take me to...Funkytown!
Vegas was fun. It was great to catch up with some old friends and cruise around the weirdest most decadent city in the world. So much about that place creeps me out...but it *is* nice to see that Rick Springfieldis still working.
It's a bit disturbing that Vegas is the most popular destination in the United States. Not that I thought it would be the Smithsonian, but Vegas? I must be getting old...one of my favorite parts of the trip was the flower display and Chihuly glass work at the Bellaggio. What made for a nicely absurd mix of people was the March Madness crowd and the N'Sync (performed at MGM Grand) fans.
Now I know why we have "Celebrity Boxing".
I promised myself I wouldn't tell anyone...but the secret I hold is killing me inside. Okay...here goes. I watched Fox's "Celebrity Boxing" on Wednesday. BUT, I want to qualify that I watched like an anthropologist studying a new and horrific culture...and I kinda wanted to see Vanilla Ice get punched. My conversation with my brother went something like this: "I think Tonya Harding will beat Paula Jones. I mean, as crazy and unlikable as she is she *did* compete in the Olympics. She's a world-class athlete and that will carry over to some degree....um...oh...hey, if I start speaking seriously about Celebrity Boxing again will you hit me as hard as you can in the back of the head. Yeah, when I'm not looking, just take me out of my misery."
By the way, my astute pre-match assessment of Tonya Harding was on the mark. I must be a really good anthropologist.
My good, good friend Dlove is having an art opening on Friday in San Diego. I've known him since I was about 4 years old and he's always been an artist. He's creative, loving, and introspective -- and that all comes through in his work. A while back, my brother and I bought one of his pieces for our amazing Mom (below). It's a tough gig to be an artist and I hope he finds a way to earn a living being creative. Have a great show, D!
I'm heading to Vegas on Friday for a good friend's bachelor party. Man...Vegas is truly an interesting place. I love it for about 36 hours then it kinda freaks me out. If I start to get sober, thoughts like "How in the world are there huge fountains and white tigers and dolphins and houses in the middle of the DESERT? This entire place is an environmental disaster! Aughhhh," and so on creep into my head. The obvious answer to quiet these thoughts is to not let sobriety be a part of my weekend. And I have a feeling the city of Vegas will approve of my "plan".
I have a friend named Colin (pronounced Call-in). However, I notice that Colin Powell chooses the version (Cole-in or Colon). Now, if my name was Anus and I had the choice of "Ah-noose" or "Ay-nus", I think I'd go with the one that wasn't associated with fecal matter. Mr. Powell...go with the freebie! You've got "Call-in", no need to choose the word that is associated with moving digested food through my ah-noose.
I have no idea who reads this page...other than a few close friends and bored inmates. But every once in a while my day is made by someone interesting who writes to say that I made them laugh. Like Edward who keeps an active site running and has some intelligent things to say about life, New York City and the latest "news". And today my morning began with a wonderful note that read, "You make me laugh. Almost every time I read your blog I end up with hiccups from laughing." I *think* that's good. Although if her lawyer is reading I deny any wrongdoing in the aforementioned hiccup accusation. Make it a great day.
Despite living walking distance from the Balboa Park disc golf course and enjoying disc golf, I'm not very good. On Sunday I was playing with Brandon and Ruffdog when, on "hole" 3, I threw a hole-in-one (or "ace" as I later learned was the correct disc-lingo)! It was amazing. Seriously, I'm not good -- but that didn't stop us from hooting and hollering and jumping up and down like I won the Super Bowl. It was awesome.
I bought tickets for my Dad and I to see a San Diego Gulls game. I think they're a hockey team... Actually they are the second-best team in the WCHL (West Coast Hockey League...something I didn't know existed until just now.) After buying the tickets, my brother and I were driving away when we saw a young guy and girl walking to see today's Gulls game. He held a torn piece of cardboard that he had written "Condors Suck!" on with a permanent pen (make no doubt of his loyalty...I said "permanent pen"). John and I looked at each other and smiled. With the assumption that the Condors were some sort of opposing team we started yelling, "Condors Suck! Condors Suck!" as the two walking by jabbed their fists in the air in appreciation. Man, do the Condors suck...whoever they may be.