Originally posted elsewhere 6/27/07
reply: "I doubt it."
Rob again: "OK, I gave up on using your Amazon wish list. Instead, you are getting a case of Smooking Loon Syrah, which apparently got a high ranking from the Wine Spectator (which I presume is meaningful). The review certainly made me want to go out and buy some! And, since their price per bottle is not insane, I think a whole case is in order.
Thanks for all the help that you have been to me and Ryan and Scott over the years. I do appreciate it."
My response: "Yes, my ratty, unkemp Amazon wish list. So many things to keep up, so little time. What were all those bloggers doing before? Tending their gardens? Reading trashy novels? My mother's answer was to keep an immaculate, almost museum quality house. When we sold it 50 odd years after they built it, there were no dents in the woodwork and the 25 year-old white wool carpet still looked good. I think they re-painted maybe twice in 50 years. Once I am sure of. The rest of the time she washed the walls. Not surprising that she missed being there so much.
I have dozens of photos and ideas for additions to my website but working keeps getting in the way. That or resting from work. Or working on the boat. I haven't quite made it totally into Julie-attractive, but I'm closing in on that goal.
I enjoyed much of the wine you sent last time but I'm afraid some wines are not completely enjoyable unless paired with the proper food. So some of the quality was probably wasted on me, sad to say. What goes with a bean burrito?
My principle regarding food is to eat like a peasant (with exceptions as opportunity presents them). My latest food group to give up is sweetened beverages (unless I do the sweetening myself.) So Coke no more. I either ask for water or coffee. Now if you could get water in something besides those tiny cups for kiddies. . . .
Anyway, unless on the boat I don't cook much. Most of the wine and liquor is there now. The boat is the designated relaxation zone. I trust the Smoking Loon will fit right in. I'm sure it will go well with bratwurst, canned chili or nachos. It's also really nice to pull out a good bottle for guests, which we actually have now and then.
Ryan was down last winter for a few days. He appreciated the on board blender (and the inverter that runs it off batteries) which makes pretty good frozen Margaritas. The relaxing zone, at anchor or docked. Actually sailing is another story entirely. Then it's pay attention while nothing much happens for long periods of time (but it might, which is why you have to pay attention) interspersed with the antic awkward moments that c aracterize changing course single-handed. It really takes two people to sail a small boat well, three is a luxury, four you can afford to have someone just for rail meat.
Scott and family finally made it down for a day. I had Boca Burgers for Jill, which scored points. I believe they all enjoyed / tolerated the experience and will want to repeat it some time. The girls were fascinated with all of the gadgets that permit civilized life while traveling over the water, like the foot pump for fresh water. Scott seems to have made a successful leap to another company. I reminded him ahead of time that taking a new situation was an opportunity to work with people who didn't know what you couldn't accomplish, and so an opportunity to put into practice all the good things you know to do but somehow never did the last time. Starting fresh. The new American Frontier, the next job.
As you will appreciate being a father yourself, it has been a blessing for me to have contributed positively in any way to the lives of Julie, you three boys and your families. There comes a time when a good deal of your life must be about someone besides yourself. I now also recognize the anguish of my parents in not being able to see much of me or my children. And I so much appreciate living close to my mother's parents and having a frequently renewed relationship with them. You learn some important things watching your grandfather wash and shave in the morning. His comment on the razor later when I reached puberty: "Every man must learn to use his own tools." It was a civilizing experience, watching his transformation from a fuzzy old creature in pajamas into a freshly washed, shaved, perfumed and dressed man, prepared for the serious business of the day.
I see another old man in the mirror every morning, white bristles, some old-man fat hanging from lean, stringy muscles. Working muscles, like his, not cultured in a gym. The old-man fat no longer integrated smoothly into my body, just insurance to see me through days of sickness or little food. Not much, an inch thick on my sides, just above the hips, sagging into the small of my back as though it thought no one would notice there. Not much, so sick or hungry better not last long. Old-man fat, gross, that thing that repulses the young and keeps the generations in their places. Old-man fat, saggy, jiggly, not pretty, no longer pretending to be anything but a hedge against bad times.
Happy Father's Day"
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