I did what the President asked.
I spent part of my economic stimulus check for an anniversary trip to Napa over the Memorial Day weekend.
It was a relaxing two-days traveling up and down the Napa Valley, dropping by some familiar vineyards while trying out a number of new ones.
Some tasting and a little buying to add to our small but impressive wine collection.
I'm not in the income bracket to purchase "cases" of wine, however my wife Lori and I still managed to snag a couple bottles here and there and enjoy a couple fantastic meals.
From Turnbull to Rubicon, to Regusci and Frank Family, we stopped by nearly 20 wineries to see what they had to offer that was only available on site.
**Disclaimer: We didn't sample at every place we visited**
It became apparent to me that many other people were doing the same thing, just a little differently.
A constant parade of BMW's rolled up and down Highway 29 from Yountville to Calistoga, filled with wine aficionados who were sampling and purchasing some of Napa's finest.
Only I don't think they were feeling any "stimulus" about helping the economy.
I struck up conversations with a couple of people at each winery.
The usual information, where are you from, what are you doing here, etc, etc...
It always ended with a joke about the economic stimulus check funding our trip and all but one couple responded with a blank stare.
These were people who weren't feeling the pinch of a slumping economy or at least they were hiding it very well.
A couple from the Midwest were the only one's who picked up on my stimulus satire and said they had used part of their kickback for a plane ticket on their anniversary.
Due to airline regulations, part of their cash was also being spent on shipping fees to get their vino back home.
I don't usually throw money around under any circumstance, and on this trip I was keeping a close eye on the running total at all times.
As we waited for our table on Sunday night, some high rollers stumbled into the restaurant, still reeling from a day of wine tasting.
I recognized the leader of the group from one of the wineries we visited earlier in the day.
He gave me the blank, brush off stare during my failed attempt at small talk.
Dapper Dan (as I'll call him) had no reservation, and was poorly attempting to slip the hostess a little cash to get his party seated in front of the pack of 12 hungry diners in front of him.
It was only then I realized that "he" was in need of a little stimulation.
Dan was trying to grease the gal with a $5 bill.
He's either in the same boat as the rest of us or just cheap.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Let Me Explain...
I believe there are three words or phrases that have become lost in translation in this day and age.
They are please, thank you and I'm sorry.
I'm a big believer in all three, but they seem to have fallen by the wayside in everyday conversation.
The first two should be automatic, ingrained in our psyche from the time we could speak, but the third has become almost a dead language with some people in our culture.
It's almost as if the phrase indicates some sort of weakness in a society where everyone thinks, or wants to think, they are in charge.
A nation full of generals and no infantry.
Part of the reason for this lies in the 'explanation' generation.
A logic that dictates that no one is at fault for anything.
There's a good reason for everything that happens.
Here let me explain it to you.
The resulting debate over guilt results in an on-going need to explain one's position, even if they are wrong, to the point where emotions boil over and the conflict goes unresolved.
A situation that could be defused with two simple words, "I'm sorry".
Throw in "my bad" if it's more to your liking.
A friend of mine said lawyers are to blame for the inability to accept responsibility.
Hey, lawyers gotta eat too and some have gotten pretty stuffed on liability suits.
But the beauty of "I'm sorry" is the way it can end a debate, sometimes almost instantaneously.
Then again, if the offense is too deep, the phrase might need to be accompanied by some time.
But at least we're on the road to recovery, and not stuck in an endless rut of mindless reasoning that serves only to prolong the agony.
I'm done with the explanations.
Cue up the "I'm sorry", whether I'm at fault or not.
And if the explanations continue anyway, I'll add another phrase to my list of favorites.
"Shut up".
They are please, thank you and I'm sorry.
I'm a big believer in all three, but they seem to have fallen by the wayside in everyday conversation.
The first two should be automatic, ingrained in our psyche from the time we could speak, but the third has become almost a dead language with some people in our culture.
It's almost as if the phrase indicates some sort of weakness in a society where everyone thinks, or wants to think, they are in charge.
A nation full of generals and no infantry.
Part of the reason for this lies in the 'explanation' generation.
A logic that dictates that no one is at fault for anything.
There's a good reason for everything that happens.
Here let me explain it to you.
The resulting debate over guilt results in an on-going need to explain one's position, even if they are wrong, to the point where emotions boil over and the conflict goes unresolved.
A situation that could be defused with two simple words, "I'm sorry".
Throw in "my bad" if it's more to your liking.
A friend of mine said lawyers are to blame for the inability to accept responsibility.
Hey, lawyers gotta eat too and some have gotten pretty stuffed on liability suits.
But the beauty of "I'm sorry" is the way it can end a debate, sometimes almost instantaneously.
Then again, if the offense is too deep, the phrase might need to be accompanied by some time.
But at least we're on the road to recovery, and not stuck in an endless rut of mindless reasoning that serves only to prolong the agony.
I'm done with the explanations.
Cue up the "I'm sorry", whether I'm at fault or not.
And if the explanations continue anyway, I'll add another phrase to my list of favorites.
"Shut up".
Friday, May 9, 2008
Rosedale Development Delay
Traffic study?!
County supervisors postponed a decision on three controversial housing developments planned for the Rosedale area on May 6th, so that a more thorough report could be compiled regarding the impact traffic would have on the area.
For those of you who don't live or drive on the far west side of town, let me give you a break down when it comes to roads.
The road which connects my small neighborhood to Stockdale Highway was paved by the homeowners.
It turns to dirt on the west side of my property, before returning to asphalt that was generously put in by recent builders, who were required to pave the road adjacent to the homes they were putting up.
The dirt to pavement to dirt scenario is played out all over the area.
Hop scotch development has created this street virus with no real cure, unless the remaining farm land is paved over and we plant subdivisions as far as the eye can see.
That's becoming a real concern for the folks who moved or lived west of Allen Road many years ago to enjoy country life.
As one of my new neighbors so eloquently put it not long ago, this ain't the country anymore.
Still, part of the reason for the transplant was to own a larger parcel for our four-legged family members, away from people who might not have a tolerance for the fragrance of nature.
Now, developers want to put lots that measure between 10,000 and 20,000 sq feet in an area where current homeowners reside on homesteads that start at an acre and increase up to five acres and more.
It doesn't work, like the proverbial square peg in a round hole.
I'm not against development, in fact, you could see it coming for years.
Just make it fit.
Supervisor Ray Watson, who's up for re-election on June 3rd, called for the motion to postpone the vote on the developments until the traffic study could be complete.
He had said he was in favor of the developments.
The issue will now come back to the supervisors on June 17th.
Two weeks after the election.
Coincidence?? I hope not.
I hope he'll realize the ridiculous amount of traffic that will be left to navigate farm roads, in some cases, in order to find the major arteries back to town.
Ray, please apply the tourniquet before it's too late.
County supervisors postponed a decision on three controversial housing developments planned for the Rosedale area on May 6th, so that a more thorough report could be compiled regarding the impact traffic would have on the area.
For those of you who don't live or drive on the far west side of town, let me give you a break down when it comes to roads.
The road which connects my small neighborhood to Stockdale Highway was paved by the homeowners.
It turns to dirt on the west side of my property, before returning to asphalt that was generously put in by recent builders, who were required to pave the road adjacent to the homes they were putting up.
The dirt to pavement to dirt scenario is played out all over the area.
Hop scotch development has created this street virus with no real cure, unless the remaining farm land is paved over and we plant subdivisions as far as the eye can see.
That's becoming a real concern for the folks who moved or lived west of Allen Road many years ago to enjoy country life.
As one of my new neighbors so eloquently put it not long ago, this ain't the country anymore.
Still, part of the reason for the transplant was to own a larger parcel for our four-legged family members, away from people who might not have a tolerance for the fragrance of nature.
Now, developers want to put lots that measure between 10,000 and 20,000 sq feet in an area where current homeowners reside on homesteads that start at an acre and increase up to five acres and more.
It doesn't work, like the proverbial square peg in a round hole.
I'm not against development, in fact, you could see it coming for years.
Just make it fit.
Supervisor Ray Watson, who's up for re-election on June 3rd, called for the motion to postpone the vote on the developments until the traffic study could be complete.
He had said he was in favor of the developments.
The issue will now come back to the supervisors on June 17th.
Two weeks after the election.
Coincidence?? I hope not.
I hope he'll realize the ridiculous amount of traffic that will be left to navigate farm roads, in some cases, in order to find the major arteries back to town.
Ray, please apply the tourniquet before it's too late.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Successful Escape
It was over way too fast.
All the buildup, all the preparation, all the anticipation of the swim from Alcatraz to Aquatic Park in San Francisco was over in less than an hour.
And it was one of the GREATEST experiences of my life.
I was swimming with 10-yr old Antonio Ramirez, a young man who was hell bent on racing across the bay from the moment we hit the water.
We met up on the Hyde St. Pier around 7 am Thursday morning with nearly 100 other people who were taking the plunge in this 2nd annual fund raising event.
My brothers Tom and Bob, and nephew Colin were also along for the swim.
The three brothers stood around reminiscing of stupid things we had done in our youth and very few things measured up to what we were about to attempt in our 40's.
Three boats would ferry all the swimmers out to Alcatraz Island, with ABC23 photographers Evan and Lee along for the ride and my father-in-law Gordon with his high-speed telephoto camera at the ready.
Our boat, the "Kitty Kat", was the first to arrive off the southeast point of the island.
We were told that we might actually try to land all the swimmers on a patch of sand called "Barker's Beach" on the west side of the island.
It was there, many years ago, that one of Ma Barker's boys had tried to escape, but was shot dead.
Apparently, some of the security types on Alcatraz were alerted to our presence so we steered for a position just off shore.
The worst part of the swim was waiting on the boat for the other two to show up.
They got a late start so we sat, ready to go, for about 15-20 minutes.
Some of the kids began to think a little too much about what we were about to do, so we started goofing around while we waited.
This is not something that needs deep thought.
Swimming Alcatraz is very simple.
Put your head down and GO!!!
A flotilla of two dozen boats had surrounded the group, forming a swimming lane that would lead us through the current to shore.
But we didn't really need it on this day.
A beautiful day, no clouds, 55 degrees at jump time and the bay was like glass.
We hit the water at 8:40am, and I never realized how cold the water was for about 15 minutes.
The wet suit I acquired for the swim was the thickest I could get and proved to be a little too snug.
We started out with my brother Tom on one side and Bob on the other with Colin and two other boys in tow.
The water is murky and it's almost impossible to see your hand in front of your face.
The salt water had a distinctly petroleum taste to it and I'm sure other chemicals that I'd rather not know about.
But it was all inconsequential when we stopped to look around after about a half mile in the ocean.
Alcatraz was getting smaller with each stroke.
Antonio was so focused on getting across he wasn't stopping to enjoy the view.
This wasn't a race, it was a lesson in survival.
We stopped about half way across and floated on our backs for a while.
The ABC helicopter was flying over head taking pictures and we started to wave.
Forgetting of course that when you wave, it alerts the nearby kayaks and zodiac boats that you're in trouble.
Within 1 minute, a voice from behind us yelled out, "Are you alright?"
We looked at each other and laughed, before continuing on.
It was at this point I realized that the tight fitting wet suit was preventing me from taking deep breaths.
Without concern for the 52 degree water, I pulled the suit away from my neck and let it fill with water, while I took a deep breath of air.
It felt great!!
We continued on as the break wall now got larger and larger.
We were on the inland side of the opening with the tide now starting to go out to sea, in perfect position for the push to the beach.
Once through the wall, our pace picked up a bit, stopping every once in a while to let a little more water into my suit.
It actually felt great at this point.
Just under 50 minutes into the swim, it was over.
We came on shore to the cheers of a large contingent of my family members who came to see 4 Hart boys walk out of the bay.
I was completely amped at this point and felt absolutely no chill.
I grabbed the microphone and started interviewing people on shore, wanting to share my stories with their own.
One of the last people out of the water was Joe Underwood.
An 11-yr old swimmer with spina bifida that also made the swim.
The other media crushed around Joe for the trademark inspirational sound bite, but he offered only responses of "yes", "great" and "no".
Not the stuff lasting statements are made of, but he had already provided the cap to the entire event.
The slogan, catch phrase or whatever you want to call it for this year's swim was "Escape your Limitations".
I had done that.
Joe went way above that.
It's the kind of moment where you already start thinking about next year's swim, and maybe beginning your preparation by starting right now.
It was a moment that sank in with my son Michael, who came within 20 minutes of qualifying for this year's swim.
He says he definitely wants to swim next year.
I think I have Joe to thank for his new found motivation.
All the buildup, all the preparation, all the anticipation of the swim from Alcatraz to Aquatic Park in San Francisco was over in less than an hour.
And it was one of the GREATEST experiences of my life.
I was swimming with 10-yr old Antonio Ramirez, a young man who was hell bent on racing across the bay from the moment we hit the water.
We met up on the Hyde St. Pier around 7 am Thursday morning with nearly 100 other people who were taking the plunge in this 2nd annual fund raising event.
My brothers Tom and Bob, and nephew Colin were also along for the swim.
The three brothers stood around reminiscing of stupid things we had done in our youth and very few things measured up to what we were about to attempt in our 40's.
Three boats would ferry all the swimmers out to Alcatraz Island, with ABC23 photographers Evan and Lee along for the ride and my father-in-law Gordon with his high-speed telephoto camera at the ready.
Our boat, the "Kitty Kat", was the first to arrive off the southeast point of the island.
We were told that we might actually try to land all the swimmers on a patch of sand called "Barker's Beach" on the west side of the island.
It was there, many years ago, that one of Ma Barker's boys had tried to escape, but was shot dead.
Apparently, some of the security types on Alcatraz were alerted to our presence so we steered for a position just off shore.
The worst part of the swim was waiting on the boat for the other two to show up.
They got a late start so we sat, ready to go, for about 15-20 minutes.
Some of the kids began to think a little too much about what we were about to do, so we started goofing around while we waited.
This is not something that needs deep thought.
Swimming Alcatraz is very simple.
Put your head down and GO!!!
A flotilla of two dozen boats had surrounded the group, forming a swimming lane that would lead us through the current to shore.
But we didn't really need it on this day.
A beautiful day, no clouds, 55 degrees at jump time and the bay was like glass.
We hit the water at 8:40am, and I never realized how cold the water was for about 15 minutes.
The wet suit I acquired for the swim was the thickest I could get and proved to be a little too snug.
We started out with my brother Tom on one side and Bob on the other with Colin and two other boys in tow.
The water is murky and it's almost impossible to see your hand in front of your face.
The salt water had a distinctly petroleum taste to it and I'm sure other chemicals that I'd rather not know about.
But it was all inconsequential when we stopped to look around after about a half mile in the ocean.
Alcatraz was getting smaller with each stroke.
Antonio was so focused on getting across he wasn't stopping to enjoy the view.
This wasn't a race, it was a lesson in survival.
We stopped about half way across and floated on our backs for a while.
The ABC helicopter was flying over head taking pictures and we started to wave.
Forgetting of course that when you wave, it alerts the nearby kayaks and zodiac boats that you're in trouble.
Within 1 minute, a voice from behind us yelled out, "Are you alright?"
We looked at each other and laughed, before continuing on.
It was at this point I realized that the tight fitting wet suit was preventing me from taking deep breaths.
Without concern for the 52 degree water, I pulled the suit away from my neck and let it fill with water, while I took a deep breath of air.
It felt great!!
We continued on as the break wall now got larger and larger.
We were on the inland side of the opening with the tide now starting to go out to sea, in perfect position for the push to the beach.
Once through the wall, our pace picked up a bit, stopping every once in a while to let a little more water into my suit.
It actually felt great at this point.
Just under 50 minutes into the swim, it was over.
We came on shore to the cheers of a large contingent of my family members who came to see 4 Hart boys walk out of the bay.
I was completely amped at this point and felt absolutely no chill.
I grabbed the microphone and started interviewing people on shore, wanting to share my stories with their own.
One of the last people out of the water was Joe Underwood.
An 11-yr old swimmer with spina bifida that also made the swim.
The other media crushed around Joe for the trademark inspirational sound bite, but he offered only responses of "yes", "great" and "no".
Not the stuff lasting statements are made of, but he had already provided the cap to the entire event.
The slogan, catch phrase or whatever you want to call it for this year's swim was "Escape your Limitations".
I had done that.
Joe went way above that.
It's the kind of moment where you already start thinking about next year's swim, and maybe beginning your preparation by starting right now.
It was a moment that sank in with my son Michael, who came within 20 minutes of qualifying for this year's swim.
He says he definitely wants to swim next year.
I think I have Joe to thank for his new found motivation.
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