I DO!

photo by jan
Not much more to say on this topic... thanks to all who were there and to those who weren't. It was the best day of my life so far and the best week. So great to hang with friends from the past -- as well as so many new friends. Having both of our families there was fabulous...

... and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with Ali.

See you all next post!

Peaks and Valleys

Obviously, it was a roller coaster of a weekend.

Tom Brady, quarterback of the New England Patriots, took a hit below the knee on Sunday ending his season. Man, Tom's last two games have been a bummer. They do not, however, take anything away from his amazing accomplishments.

The team released the following statement regarding Brady:

"After extensive tests this morning, it was revealed that New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady's left knee, which was injured in the first quarter of yesterday's game, will require surgery. He will be placed on injured reserve and will miss the remainder of the 2008 season."

Best wishes for a speedy recovery Tom... we can't wait to see you back in action. As for the rest of the Patriots, I still predict a fourth Super Bowl title in nine years. If everyone does their job and buys into Belichick's philosophy, no one can beat them. I could play quarterback...

In other news, my life is complete. That's right, folks. At the wedding of Brad Sands, former tour manager of Phish, all four original members of the greatest band ever borrowed the instruments of the wedding band and performed three classic Phish songs. View part of "Julius" at the following link:

www.livemusicblog.com/news/08/09/07/phish-reunites-at-tour-managers-wedding.php

The band made no official announcement.

I agree that it's sort of weird to see Fishman wearing a suit and tie rather than his usual on-tour smocky-dress, but still, seeing the four of them together on-stage is a sight for sore eyes! I look forward to seeing the Phab Phour play again at a non-rainy-site-with-a-paved-parking-lot near me.

The Rose

Yesterday Alison and I, accompanied by Oscar, went climbing in Bolton Notch. We started on a sport route -- actually the site of our first date (which wasn't officially a "date"; rather, it was more of a "let's go climbing" get-together, but, of course it could be argued that it was a date since both of us later admitted to having some romantic interest... anyway, that is totally not the point of this blog entry!)

Anyway, we warmed up at the sport route, er, mentioned above, and then we continued along the base of the cliff. There were a couple of other climbing parties out there, and one of them was in the middle of climbing one of the routes we probably had our eye on. So we continued past and found ourselves looking up at a 100- plus foot high crack in the the rock known as The Rose.

An overhung 5.10 route, the rock is pretty much flat all around the crack, and you would have to lay back and cling to the crack for the entire 100 feet. I would have loved to have laid out my climbing rack and trad climbed it, but I'm not that confident yet, so we hiked around and set up a top-rope from the top. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera, so we will have to settle for the accompanying image of this nice red flower.

Neither of us scaled The Rose yesterday. I guess we haven't been climbing as much as we would have liked this summer -- and we certainly (until lately) haven't been outside as much as we would have liked. The Rose is totally possible, but it is three times as tall as any route at the gym and its difficulty is sustained the entire way. And, it is difficult to make a project of it because everytime you fall, the route is so overhung that you find yourself hanging by the rope 15 feet away from the rock. Once you fall, you have to get lowered to the ground to start all over again.

But I have a new mission for Autumn 2008: climb The Rose. I'm looking forward to a nice Indian summer and a pleasant fall. And I plan to return the the Notch as often as it takes to climb that thing to the top.

Litter Bugs

I have a gripe. I run about two or three mornings per week on a beautiful Vermont dirt road. A stream runs along part of it, it passes through beautiful hayfields, and it has amazing views and vistas. But every morning, there is new garbage thrown alongside this dirt road. And of course my dog Oscar, who runs with me, gets into it (because that's what dogs do).

People! Throw your damn trash in a garbage can! I am sick of the litterbugs getting my dog in trouble with me. Seriously, why is it that every firepit at a beautiful overlook has broken glass around it, every beach is full of litter, and every dirt road is covered with old take-out food bags and pizza boxes? If you're too lazy to cook your own dinner, at least find a trash can at a gas station and toss your refuse there. Sheesh!

As long as I'm on a rant, one more thing. In my running experience, I have become aware that motorists fall into one of four groups -- in regard to pedestrians (ie runners, walkers, bikers, etc.) Group 1 doesn't even know we're out there. To this group, I guess keep doing what you're doing... I hope you don't hit me. Group 2 is pissed at us. "What the hell are you runners doing on my road?" is the attitude. Again, just please don't hit me. Group 3 is aware and members of this group give me a wide berth everytime. For this, I am appreciative, but you may want to also take note of oncoming traffic -- particularly traffic you can't see. I mean, it's nice that you're giving me lots of room, but just over the hill we're about to crest or around this blind turn, there may be a moving van coming at us at 60mph! The last thing I want is for you to have a head-on, flip over, and land on me. Group 4 gives me a wide berth on the open road, but slows down when they can't see what's ahead. Three cheers for Group 4.

Moral of the story: watch out for pedestrians and don't be a litter bug.

Caffeine

I have a nasty addiction to caffeine. And I will say this about my addiction: at least it's not heroin or painkillers!

It's not just any caffeine. In my opinion, coffee is gross. Yuck! And I know, because I have tasted it. One time when I was four, I was being bratty and demanding that my dad give me some of the instant coffee he made and drank each morning. Tired of the whining, he said fine and filled a cup of the scalding hot stuff. Having never consumed a hot drink before, I drank it right down -- and burned my mouth, throat, and tongue (before calling the agencies, bear in mind that this event was 33 years ago, I turned out mostly normal, and my folks were otherwise mostly responsible parents).

The point, anyway, is that I'm not one of those people who just decides something without giving it a fair, open-minded chance. To this day, even the smell of coffee makes my throat hurt.

No, I am a soda drinker. Not just any soda; I will drink Coke -- not Pepsi -- or Mountain Dew. I am currently on the one-pop-a-day program, but there have been times when I have consumed much more. Like four or five a day or more. At times like those, I can just feel my teeth decaying.

Dentally speaking (do you mind if I speak dentally for a moment?), I only have one filling, so apparently my teeth can stand up to the onslaught of these sugary, syrupy beverages. But it's not really my teeth I'm worried about. I am a healthy person for the most part, and, from a health and intake perspective, soda is my one Achilles heel. Don't get me wrong; I could quit at any time. In fact, I have quit -- many times! But then I'll go on a long road trip, or I'll get busy at work. Or something. And next thing you know, I'm back up to four a day!

Well, I am going to try to keep the soda consumption under control. I don't want to wind up obese or with diabetes. On the other hand, I don't eat chips by the bag while watching TV. I don't suck down candy. I don't smoke or do heroin. What you are reading is a good example of rationalization. So thank you for helping me out... suddenly everything seems clear. There are plenty of bad things I could be doing, and, chances are, it probably won't kill me. And, that traumatic childhood experience with the hot coffee probably scarred me emotionally, so nothing I do is really my fault.

I feel better now. And, besides, what's wrong with a nice cold Coke or Mountain Dew now and then?

A Great Buddy

Yes, these are big fish, but my Uncle John was a great fisherman. John Fred Obuchowski died yesterday morning.

I guess I'm not much of an obit-writer, because I don't really know the vital statistics. For example: birthdate, not sure. Age, also unsure, although I know he was in his eighties. Birthplace, not positive, although I assume it was way back in the day, someplace in southern Vermont. Service in WWII, I know he was there, but not where exactly or how much. (However, he's been a regular at the American Legion ever since.)

Hmmm, maybe it'll be better to start with what I do know…

Uncle John was not exactly my uncle; he was my dad’s uncle, which makes him my “grand-uncle.” Whatever he was, he was a great buddy and an awesome friend, and I am going to miss him. If he did not originate the phrase “You can’t put it on if you don’t have it,” then he made it famous, and I have sworn by it (which is why I always carry the heaviest pack or overdress -- but am never cold).

I went on literally hundreds of fishing trips with Uncle John. He always made sure the cooler was full and that we had plenty of sandwiches. Notice the emphasis on the cooler and food, not on fish caught. I guess if you had plenty to eat and drink, the trip was a success, even if you got skunked. One year, we went out a couple of times with charter captain Gary Frazier to learn some of his secret spots. The second trip, when Uncle John pulled out the cooler to start working on some roast pork sandwiches on Polish rye with fresh tomato and mustard, I saw Gary grab his wife, who had joined us for the trip. “Watch,” he said. “I want you to see how he does this.”

Uncle John was, in a word, loud. “Hey, all right!” (at full volume) was his favorite moniker. When he showed up, it sounded like he brought an entourage even if it was just him and Aunt Amelia. And it was always a party. He taught me to play cribbage – a game that is impossible to teach. Really, he made me sit and watch tons of games as a six-or-seven-year-old keeping statistics: average hands, average cribs, pegging averages. He and my dad were big players, but rarely has there been a more comprehensive student of the game than me.

I could go on and on with Uncle John-isms. He seemed to always travel with pounds of meat to grill, and he loved Vermont sweet corn. He got me my first adult-sanctioned beer (pre-21, as otherwise the gesture wouldn’t have meant as much). He loved Aunt Amelia, who I know will miss him dearly, but who I am confident will have lots of support from here on out. He raised three great kids and had several awesome grand-kids. He was a great friend and uncle to my dad. He was known by all my friends as “Uncle John.” He was there when I caught big fish and when my mother died. He was funny, and he was fun – just the way you would want a buddy to be.

Thanks for the great times, Uncle John. We all miss you.

Standing Invite

Anyone familiar with my history is aware of the role the band Phish has played. I first saw them at the now-defunct bar The Front (in the building now occupied by the SkiRack in Burlington) in 1990, when I showed up a half-hour late for the show but didn't miss a thing, because I arrived only a minute before this funny-looking bearded guy who, it turned out, was the band's lead guitarist.

I have traveled far and wide to see the band. I have waited in traffic, ridden in over-packed trains in Europe, and stood in the pouring rain. And never once had a bad time. During their hiatuses (plural of "hiatus" anyone?), I have attended their solo performances -- and have always been surprised and impressed at how incredibly talented each band member is, even on his own. Case in point: bass player Mike Gordon just put on a free show at Waterfront Park last Friday. Mike has put together a great band, and the new music off his new album The Green Sparrow is fabulous (note how I resisted the urge to write "phabulous" as most Phish-writers do). It was great to see Page McConnell join him for four or five songs too.

Seeing Mike reminded me of something I've been meaning to do. As I am getting married on September 12th, I wanted to extend an official invite to Trey, Mike, Fish, and Page. You're all invited to the wedding (and, let's just say you all have a standing invite to swing by my house anytime). I have been at many of your biggest events, so I wanted you to know you're welcome at mine. Email me for directions.

PS Tom Brady, I'd invite you too, but I figure you'll be studying film that day in preparation for your game on the 14th in New York. Go Pats!