This is where I spend six to ten hours a week, suspended in 106 degrees of amniotic mineral water bliss, imbibing 45 degrees of bottled mineral water piss (they don't allow alcoholic beverages), in outside temperatures that hover between zero and thirty degrees…vaporous mists of snow, or sunshine, or both. It's where I do my best philosophical wandering.
Occasionally, readers of the BCB send gifts of gratitude in the mail. This week I received two books...
So I would like to thank my Sonoma County California compatriots (center of the Universe for fine wines, not to mention the brew-home for Bear Republic, makers of Racer 5, one of the finest IPA's ever crafted) for "Eleanor of Aquitaine," a read that will supposedly (hopefully?) open my baby blue eyes of appreciation and steer my inquisitive nose of motivation towards the culture, couture, and croissant capital of the world…Ah Parie.
This, as opposed to, or, perhaps, in addition to, ragged mountains, austere deserts, and the un-tableclothed plateaus and diners of the wild wild west, Mobile Home capital of the world. "Eleanor" is on deck in my pile of reads. Merci!
And merci to travelin' man Walden Steve for his gift of "Golf in the Kingdom" (Scotland). More than a book about golf, he assures, a pathway to higher consciousness and Zen.
Well, I haven't been to any of those places, ah Paris, Scotland, higher consciousness or Zen for that matter. So I am anxious to be transported, first in mind, then, if it suits me, in body.
I've been spinning the photo roulette wheel of misfortune lately; just random shots from past adventures and/or travels. That's right, not all travels are adventures; it's not that easy nor simple. It may seem "Adventurous" to sell your house and move into a travel trailer, fiver, or quad slide class A motorhome, but, having been there and done that several times, I'm not sure it reaches "the bar."
Maybe there are exceptions…like if you've never lived anywhere but one place, if you've never traveled beyond a few hundred miles to the beach, and that is where you vacationed every single year. Then I suppose hitting the road would seem adventurous…especially if you end up on the road from Hell, one to skinny too turn around, so narrow that meeting anything oncoming that's bigger than a VW creates mayhem, danger, and excitement that incites prayer from devout atheists and obscene gestures/verbal abominations from devout clergymen.
Let's spin the wheel again; that's a bad memory...
And I hope you are enjoying reruns…