Tahoe and Sundries
It has been a while since I've blogged it seems, and now I have several things to cover. I'd like to redo my blog so my margin is a little wider, my font a little smaller, something like incidents and accidents, so I can write more and it won't look as long! But here goes:
First, I did get human contact last weekend, and I needed it. Sat. I went with a buddy (who teaches at Solano but whose parents live up here and are good friends of S and I) and his brother to shop for their dad, then he and I hung out bit together, then we had a(nother) wonderful dinner at his father's. Mint juleps and beef soaked, practically, in lavender and grilled. These people, besides being dear friends, family really, eat and drink in the old school style, and I love it. A couple theological issues came up for me in the day's conversation, but I'll file those for another post.
What I learned was that while the blog is a great place to gather my thoughts, even to release feeling, it provides only marginal support. I just can't see who is reading, and then if I don't get a comment...you know what I mean. I throw my guts out there (there must be a blog lexicon term for this, what, I'll let you know if I think of one) and then check back to see who commented, and wait, and worry if my share was understood, all that. Yes, the blog is awesome. I'm a true blogaholic practicing my disease. But an hour in REI with friends does much more for the loneliness I sometimes feel up here. Lesson learned. Part of it of course is that I'm really in scooter's community, and while I knew some of you guys, respect and admire you, I was never close to any of you but scooter. Just the age gap, probably. So it's not like I'm blogging with the deepest sources of support in my past. Not yet anyway!
But I want to devote the bulk of this bulky blog to Tahoe. Steph planned an overnight getaway for us, and I needed it more than I knew. We put the dogs in kennel (lovely thing really; if it weren't for Mikey our dogs probably would get rescued by someone better equipped) and we headed up Wednesday morning. It's less than an hour away, or about an hour to stateline. Why we don't go more I don't know, but we will now.
We kayaked Wed. morning, along the west shore and into Emerald bay. The wind picked up so we landed at a little natural beach, had lunch, chased off the predatory canadian goose that wanted our pringles, and vegged in the sun. That was a cool beginning. Seeing the lake from kayak is highly recommended (we rented, don't own one yet) and when the wind picked up and began to blow the surface out, we got small waves and whitecaps, I mean it was dazzling. And while Emerald bay is beautiful from the road high above it (very worth the drive if you go) it is just as beautiful from the beach. The peaks and ridges that rise around are sublime.
From there we paddled back, checked into our room (with a balcony facing the lake, that lake wind blowing through the whole time; I miss coastal breezes!) got dressed and went on our night adventure. We had dinner at Llewellyn's (sp?) at the top of Harvey's; this was important for two reasons. One, is that it's the nicest, or at least most expensive, restaurant I've been to; we set a new record for a dinner bill, but of course the food, and martinis, were superb. I had souffle for the first time; they bake it special if you order at the beginning of the meal. I also had the best escargot I've had, with the teeniest bit of gorgonzola and sun-dried tomato. It was exquisite.
So the meal was great, but there's more. I am afraid of heights. It's actually the source of my fear of flying. When I worked at the long beach flying club during college I went up a few times in the kites/planes they use to teach flying/dying. And I was of course scared peeless, sweating, almost paralyzed, buzzing around at 3000 feet. Too bad really. But once I got below, say, 500 feet, I relaxed. Now that is of course the most dangerous altitude to fly at (I always had instructors with me) yet I'd relax when we got low. And this is what bothers me about jets; they go so damned high!
Anyway, we had dinner on the 19th floor. I did this on purpose, as an exposure exercise. They sat us right next to the glass at first, and I felt like I would fall out of my chair. Steph couldn't see out the window so they moved us to a little table where we could both look out. The view was stunning, but all my fear/vertigo was raging, and yet raging while the waiter explained the dinner specials, and yes, while I ordered a martini (but not before I'd been up there a bit). This combination of my fear with one of my favorite activities, going out to dinner, was quite useful. After a while I relaxed, had a great meal, and grew as a person. I'm very proud of myself. Eventually, I want to ride the gondola up heavenly. But that's after a few more exercises like the restaurant.
Then we went to Ceasar's and saw the Reverend Horton Heat. What they call psycho-billy. Oh man. I'm a casual fan; I have one cd. But I've seen few crowds this wild , at least in recent years. Have you ever seen people mosh to johnny cash's 'folsom prison blues?' If not, try a Rev. show. I expected him to be completely insane, but the rev. is actually fairly demure on stage. It was the fans that were insane. I actually found myself bummed out by the pit energy; I am getting old. I just wanted to stand there and watch the show without getting beer thrown all over me or getting knocked over. lol. Besides the mania in the pit, the rev. really did put on a good show. Jimbo, who plays/slaps an electrified stand up bass was right in front of us, and watching him was worth the price of admission. The wierdest thing is how much the rev. sounds and looks like George W. when he talks. Around the eyes...the way he laughs. I'm not kidding. If there's some strange swaggart/jerry lee cousin connection in Texas no one is talking.
After that we went home, ears ringing. The next day was even better. We hung around the room enjoying that wonderful breeze until noon then checked out and shopped a little, then began driving around the lake. We toured the old Pine Lodge, a historic building on the west shore, we drove completely around and went down the 50 into Carson City. What a town that is. Vegas in 1950. Luckily, we found a very affordable and good place to have dinner. Then back up the mountain to the east shore of the lake. And the best part of all was that we pulled over at one of those scenic vistas, wish I could remember the name, and climbed around on the boulders, even down to the lake itself. Steph took pictures of the sunset, and the wind blew, and I was more relaxed and content then I've felt in months.
It was a great two days for us. Like rolling the clock back to our early years. I felt sane, close to my wife, very poweful having faced a fear I've had almost as long as I can remember. And the beauty of that place...it's incredible. If you do Tahoe (after visiting my place on the way!) climb out of the slot banks and take a day driving around that lake. Get out on the water anyway you can. I plan to do so again.
It was so enjoyable, dropping my anxiety, feeling hopeful, being with Steph. I read so many romantic posts on the other blogs here, and sometimes I feel jealous. But I really did have a great two days with Stephanie. Well-deserved for both of us. Catalina is coming up, and I hope that goes well also. Keep you all posted.
t
First, I did get human contact last weekend, and I needed it. Sat. I went with a buddy (who teaches at Solano but whose parents live up here and are good friends of S and I) and his brother to shop for their dad, then he and I hung out bit together, then we had a(nother) wonderful dinner at his father's. Mint juleps and beef soaked, practically, in lavender and grilled. These people, besides being dear friends, family really, eat and drink in the old school style, and I love it. A couple theological issues came up for me in the day's conversation, but I'll file those for another post.
What I learned was that while the blog is a great place to gather my thoughts, even to release feeling, it provides only marginal support. I just can't see who is reading, and then if I don't get a comment...you know what I mean. I throw my guts out there (there must be a blog lexicon term for this, what, I'll let you know if I think of one) and then check back to see who commented, and wait, and worry if my share was understood, all that. Yes, the blog is awesome. I'm a true blogaholic practicing my disease. But an hour in REI with friends does much more for the loneliness I sometimes feel up here. Lesson learned. Part of it of course is that I'm really in scooter's community, and while I knew some of you guys, respect and admire you, I was never close to any of you but scooter. Just the age gap, probably. So it's not like I'm blogging with the deepest sources of support in my past. Not yet anyway!
But I want to devote the bulk of this bulky blog to Tahoe. Steph planned an overnight getaway for us, and I needed it more than I knew. We put the dogs in kennel (lovely thing really; if it weren't for Mikey our dogs probably would get rescued by someone better equipped) and we headed up Wednesday morning. It's less than an hour away, or about an hour to stateline. Why we don't go more I don't know, but we will now.
We kayaked Wed. morning, along the west shore and into Emerald bay. The wind picked up so we landed at a little natural beach, had lunch, chased off the predatory canadian goose that wanted our pringles, and vegged in the sun. That was a cool beginning. Seeing the lake from kayak is highly recommended (we rented, don't own one yet) and when the wind picked up and began to blow the surface out, we got small waves and whitecaps, I mean it was dazzling. And while Emerald bay is beautiful from the road high above it (very worth the drive if you go) it is just as beautiful from the beach. The peaks and ridges that rise around are sublime.
From there we paddled back, checked into our room (with a balcony facing the lake, that lake wind blowing through the whole time; I miss coastal breezes!) got dressed and went on our night adventure. We had dinner at Llewellyn's (sp?) at the top of Harvey's; this was important for two reasons. One, is that it's the nicest, or at least most expensive, restaurant I've been to; we set a new record for a dinner bill, but of course the food, and martinis, were superb. I had souffle for the first time; they bake it special if you order at the beginning of the meal. I also had the best escargot I've had, with the teeniest bit of gorgonzola and sun-dried tomato. It was exquisite.
So the meal was great, but there's more. I am afraid of heights. It's actually the source of my fear of flying. When I worked at the long beach flying club during college I went up a few times in the kites/planes they use to teach flying/dying. And I was of course scared peeless, sweating, almost paralyzed, buzzing around at 3000 feet. Too bad really. But once I got below, say, 500 feet, I relaxed. Now that is of course the most dangerous altitude to fly at (I always had instructors with me) yet I'd relax when we got low. And this is what bothers me about jets; they go so damned high!
Anyway, we had dinner on the 19th floor. I did this on purpose, as an exposure exercise. They sat us right next to the glass at first, and I felt like I would fall out of my chair. Steph couldn't see out the window so they moved us to a little table where we could both look out. The view was stunning, but all my fear/vertigo was raging, and yet raging while the waiter explained the dinner specials, and yes, while I ordered a martini (but not before I'd been up there a bit). This combination of my fear with one of my favorite activities, going out to dinner, was quite useful. After a while I relaxed, had a great meal, and grew as a person. I'm very proud of myself. Eventually, I want to ride the gondola up heavenly. But that's after a few more exercises like the restaurant.
Then we went to Ceasar's and saw the Reverend Horton Heat. What they call psycho-billy. Oh man. I'm a casual fan; I have one cd. But I've seen few crowds this wild , at least in recent years. Have you ever seen people mosh to johnny cash's 'folsom prison blues?' If not, try a Rev. show. I expected him to be completely insane, but the rev. is actually fairly demure on stage. It was the fans that were insane. I actually found myself bummed out by the pit energy; I am getting old. I just wanted to stand there and watch the show without getting beer thrown all over me or getting knocked over. lol. Besides the mania in the pit, the rev. really did put on a good show. Jimbo, who plays/slaps an electrified stand up bass was right in front of us, and watching him was worth the price of admission. The wierdest thing is how much the rev. sounds and looks like George W. when he talks. Around the eyes...the way he laughs. I'm not kidding. If there's some strange swaggart/jerry lee cousin connection in Texas no one is talking.
After that we went home, ears ringing. The next day was even better. We hung around the room enjoying that wonderful breeze until noon then checked out and shopped a little, then began driving around the lake. We toured the old Pine Lodge, a historic building on the west shore, we drove completely around and went down the 50 into Carson City. What a town that is. Vegas in 1950. Luckily, we found a very affordable and good place to have dinner. Then back up the mountain to the east shore of the lake. And the best part of all was that we pulled over at one of those scenic vistas, wish I could remember the name, and climbed around on the boulders, even down to the lake itself. Steph took pictures of the sunset, and the wind blew, and I was more relaxed and content then I've felt in months.
It was a great two days for us. Like rolling the clock back to our early years. I felt sane, close to my wife, very poweful having faced a fear I've had almost as long as I can remember. And the beauty of that place...it's incredible. If you do Tahoe (after visiting my place on the way!) climb out of the slot banks and take a day driving around that lake. Get out on the water anyway you can. I plan to do so again.
It was so enjoyable, dropping my anxiety, feeling hopeful, being with Steph. I read so many romantic posts on the other blogs here, and sometimes I feel jealous. But I really did have a great two days with Stephanie. Well-deserved for both of us. Catalina is coming up, and I hope that goes well also. Keep you all posted.
t
Comments
Glad you're back and good to hear that the time was well spent. Raising a kid and working, it is easy to forget sometimes what being alone with our spouses is like. It is great when that time is afforded though. I wonder if the Rev. is going to be in the LB area soon? I've always been a big Johnny Cash fan.
By the way, you're a better man than I for facing your fear of heights. I'll deal with mine around the same time I deal with the whole clown issue. Don't ask.
Peace, brother and be well.
We're heading off on our own adventure tomorrow morning - three days of camping at Lake Easton, in central Washington. We're car camping, using the same old tent I got for my trip to Hungary back in 1993. Did you and I ever go camping together? It's weird to think that we might not have, as much of it as both of us (and really you) have done.
Scott
sorry. I forget to check back later for more comments.
I don't remember that we ever did camp, though we hiked more than once. Nothing like it of course. Perhaps one of these days still.
t