March 2013

  Another morning drive up the coast, on the road just after six. I'm meeting Carlos in San Francisco to unwind and help him celebrate his birthday and the completion of a retreat, The Hoffman Process. I swear that after this weekend it will be the end of my month of living decadently. It started off in Vegas with good whiskey and lavish dinners accompanied by Napa's finest wines. Back in SB we had a week of guests and parties and lunches that kept the momentum elevated. Then Saint Patrick's Day weekend and a few sips of Middleton and one night with a bottle of 03 Latour shared with a perfect and most delightful friend.  

 And now this. The Saint Francis at Union Square is my stop for tonight and at this point early in the drive I have no real clue where the day will take me. The possibilities are wide and many. I love a broad margin to my life. However there is a price to be paid for hedonism and I know I should strive to be more Epicurean in my goals.

 I pull into the city around noon and feel an odd, yet welcoming sensation. I was kind of dreading being in the crowded and cramped downtown but it's been a long time and knowing it's only for twenty-four hours I shiver with excitement and anticipation. It's a beautiful day and there's the Bridge and the unmistakable skyline. Alcatraz beckons like a jewel in the clean blue water. 

 I park (signing the $51 valet fee to Carlos' room, seeing he's not drinking I feel he should pick up the tab for something!) and check in and admire the city views from the twenty-fourth floor. Carlos shows up and we hit he streets. He's lots to tell about his week in Napa and we wander around for a while. We walk through Chinatown and find our selves at City Lights where we browse the books for a while, Carlos buys Mortality by Hitchens, until it's time for me to have a beer. Murphy's Pub is our first stop. A cold glass of Anchor Steam in the heart of San Francisco is pleasure almost beyond description, especially after a five hour drive and an hour of walking. 

 We continue to stroll the City, inspecting a few interesting bars and taverns that we randomly encounter, as we keep alive our conversation about our futures and what's the next best step forward for us. We've many unexplored options and it's time to embrace some change. We ramble away the afternoon. 

 We find our way back to the hotel and get serious about our commitment to keeping our never ending search for "The Good Life" going strong.

 We make ourselves at home at the bar of Bourbon Steak, the elegant restaurant just off the lobby, and I sample a whiskey or two and we snack on lobster corn dogs, tuna tare tare and Kumamoto oysters. Just enough to hold us until dinner. A bottle of The Midleton glowing seductively under the soft lights high on the top shelf is too much for me to leave untasted. We are, after all, celebrating. The evening roars into high gear.  

 We maintain our steady level of discourse through a fine Italian dinner at Scala's Bistro where we randomly meet a friend of Endo's. That guy knows everyone. 

 Barely room for a nightcap, but I force one at the Clock Bar before calling it a day. It is just midnight, not even close to a personal best for us, but I am exhausted. And back in the room I am asleep in minutes.   

  Up and refreshed and it's down to the Oak Room for a relaxed breakfast of dungeness crab omelets (Again with the decadence.) and we recap the events and conversations of yesterday. So much we want to do; more travel, more study and reading, more Nature, more solitude, more healthy choices about living right. Our minds are expanded this morning and the future seems laid out in front of us like a golden road. 

 Carlos heads back to Santa Barbara and I turn east to Sacramento for a visit with the Wus, long, long overdue. As I pass downtown and head toward Antelope I can see the snow-capped Sierras and I ache to get up there in the cold mountain wind. I haven't been up to ride the slopes of Tahoe's North Shore in three years, much to long indeed.  

 The Wus are waiting eagerly for me and seem almost as excited as I am for this time together. The girls, Ellie & Juilette, are as smart and beautiful as any children I've ever met. Their humor and energy is infectious and we spend a few hours out in the yard laughing and telling stories. Pak & Joanna look great and I envy their lives. They have found a beautiful balance and parenthood suits them both so very well. Pak has to go in to work and leaves Joanna, the girls and I, reluctantly. I know he would have called in sick if he could. I promise to wait up for him, until 1:30. 

  Pak Wu, my most gentle and soulful of friends. The times spent with him over the years are among the highlights of my life. We have certainly had more than our share of fun and adventure. I cherish the few years or so where we had nothing but time and no real restraints. Pak was in-between jobs and I was working the least that I possibly could, we had no serious girlfriends. Life was flowing in our direction with a powerful grace. We spent a winter meeting in Yosemite every other weekend renting a small cabin and snowboarding Badger Pass or x-country skiing up the Glacier Point road. Pak cooked up a storm and I poured the wine and sometimes whiskey. We made it to Donner & Sugar Bowl & Homewood, Heavenly and Sierra Summit, wherever the snow was best. Spring found us camping in Tuolumne Meadows where we laid back on a rock one night and watched meteors. A few weeks later at Saddlebag Lake we kayaked and rambled the alpine trails. That weekend we both slept in the back of our trucks.

  We climbed Mount Hoffman, Sentinel Dome, North Dome and Cloud's Rest. We hiked out to Taft Point and scrambled up to Chilnualna Falls. We camped in the Valley on a cold winter weekend and a few months later relaxed at Bridalveil campgrounds as the spring flowers lit up the alpine meadows. 

  For Abalone season we were in Sea Ranch devouring the riches of the ocean and washing our great meals down with the prizes of our wine cellars.

  And that is the short list. Over the twenty-five years we've known each other we have shared many fires and dinners and concerts and long walks through the woods. Because we live so far apart, when we do get together we live as clean and pure as we can. 

 Joanna, the girls and I sit in the yard for a while being silly and enjoying Ellie & Juliette's antics and their excitement at having me around, we laugh and giggle until my sides hurt. Ellie brings out all her creations from her recent interest in sewing. Artistic little character pillows with oddly appropriate names. She gives me an owl named Hoots. The afternoon floats along and Joanna decides it's time for sushi.  They have a new favorite place called Akebono where they are already regulars and the chefs and waitress are on a first name friendship with the girls. The food is way above par and it is among the best sushi I've ever had. We have a relaxing dinner at the bar that includes Monk fish liver, tofu nuggets, (true!) salmon jaw, (I forget what it's called.) oysters, bluefin toro sashimi, assorted sushi, sea trout and then uni  for dessert. All accompanied by glasses of Sapporo on tap! I continue my sensation of feeling decadent. We are sated and happy on the drive home. 

 Soon we are again in the backyard and Joanna gets a fire going. We sit sipping The Midleton (quite decadent!) they bought for my visit while talking and listening to the girls tell stories, Juliette has one she wrote. She has a page of pictures she drew and tells a tale that she made up that goes with the pictures. It's delightfully cute and clever and we make her tell it twice. 

 Joanna lets the girls stay up later than usual because we are just having too much fun and they are excited and are on spring break. Joanna reads us a bed time story and the girls start to nod and finally agree to go up to bed. 

 Joanna, how many fires have we sat in front of over the years sipping whiskey? I lost count a very long time ago. I remember as if it were last week the day she walked into my office looking for work. She was just seventeen and still dressed in her catholic school uniform. I hired her to work the breakfast shifts at the New Hope Holiday Inn never suspecting she would change my life forever. That was twenty-two years ago and great and wonderful adventures were the result of our chance meeting. We certainly stomped the terra over the years. From that odd little town in Pennsylvania to our long sabbatical in California we have met up for our escapades far and wide. From strolls on Mount Greylock in Massachusetts to the the top of Half Dome and walks along the trails above Santa Barbara, to sipping wine in Napa. Somewhere along the way we started and continued our investigations in to life, happiness and the healing power of nature.  Subjects that still fascinate us both. We kept those conversations going from Big Sur to Tahoe, Sea Ranch to Arizona, and dusty Yosemite trails, to sliding down the slopes of many hills on our snowboards. It has been a long and elegant dialogue. 

 I'm trying to think of all the places we saw The Dead (and various spinoffs) together; Phoenix, Vegas,(6 times) San Diego, Giant Stadium, Ventura, Marysville, Oakland.   Of course I'm forgetting some I'm sure, but every concert deserves a story of it's own. 

  I'm amazed and slightly baffled how you can meet someone and continue to keep in touch and maintain deep and lasting friendships across many miles and many years. Something worthwhile and necessary is at stake and it is too precious to lose. So against strange odds we have kept our bond strong, long after so many others have passed through our lives and faded away like late summer flowers.  Part of it is is that we still continue to learn from each other. And I feel I get more than I give from these two most tolerant and generous friends. I cherish their commitment to our long and winding relationship. 

  With the kids asleep and the fire dying down our conversation turned more serious.  We talk about health and the future. We tell some old stories and bring each other up to date on our families and mutual friends. She listens patiently as I ponder some deep sadnesses, and try to explain bits of how I choose to live. We slowly and savoringly sip The Midleton and remember a night in Petaluma at an Irish bar where we found it ridiculously underpriced, and took full advantage. Many years later I was in Midleton at the distillery and raised my glass to my sweet friend.

  Soon it's after one and we figure we better stop all the backyard noise and let the neighbors get some rest. We move into the house and Joanna is getting tired, I can tell, but she's determined to wait up for Pak who should be home any minute.  Joanna has never been one to quit early and was famous, rightfully so, for being the last one standing. 

 Pak gets home and pours himself one and and tops me off as well. He notices my travel bag and with his wonderful sense of humor and timing notes that I now have a bag with rollers instead of a backpack slung over my shoulder, his insinuation is that I'm getting old. We both laugh at the truth of it. 

  Joanna can hardly keep her eyes open and goes off to bed. What a trooper! She is nonstop all day and managed to keep the pace with me until after two am. An amazing kid.

 Pak and I sit up until three-thirty and the level in the bottle becomes dangerously low. Our talk is reflective and un-rushed. Two old friends not ready to go to bed because we both know nights like this are fewer and fewer. Although we vow to get together more often and not to let as long of an interval go by without a trip planned as we just did. Summer is coming and we throw a few ideas at each other until we both reluctantly figure it's time to finally get some sleep.

 It's an amazing thing to be with friends that know you so well that you can tell them anything. It further enables me to know myself slightly better. Another rarity that I relish. 

 I get up to my room and notice for the second time today when I look at their book shelves how many books we own in common. Kindred spirits. I'm too tired to read and my mind wanders for a bit. I fall asleep thinking about a Yosemite trip, a guy's trip this time and Pak gets there on the second day. There's ten or twelve of us and we have piles of good food and cases of splendid wine. We've rented a big house and it's comfortable and relaxed. Pak has a magnificent glow about him, his recent clean bill of health and new baby Ellie have given him a sense of joy that is infectious. He is a lucky and happy man and he knows it. 

  It's a busy hectic day and Pak and I don't get a chance to really talk and later that evening he suggests that we sleep outside on the large deck. In those days we always had our sleeping bags and pads, just in case. Because you never know. The night wound down and Pak and I made our beds under the late summer stars and listened to the alpine breeze in the treetops. We talked for a while and soon Pak was snoring. I stayed awake a little longer and pondered that there was a time when we thought that we may never get to do this again. It was a scary and heart wrenching time, but here we were and we were grateful for our unbelievable luck. It's a fine line in life and we both could appreciate the fact that things can go the other way in the twinkling of an eye. I fell asleep with my heart full to overflowing… And sitting here right now I can't find the right words to express what went through my mind that night even after years of thinking about. One day I'll get it right. 

 Up pretty early considering. The girls are excited and we decide on a dim sum breakfast. It's been a while since I've sat at the big round table while a flurry of waitstaff drop off little steamers of all sorts of treats. It's hard not to over indulge and we all overdo it, but only slightly. I figure it will be my only meal of the day and I'm not looking forward to my long and boring drive down the 5. 

  Back at the house we have a melancholy goodbye and the girls truly seem sad that I'm leaving. Unconditional love is a powerful thing when aimed directly at you and I try not to get emotional. They stand in the driveway waving until I turn the corner and am out of sight, there is a tear in my eye.  

 Soon I'm speeding south on route 5, possibly the dreariest and dullest stretch of highway in California. I put the iPod on shuffle and crank it up. Six hours pass like a glacier. It's that whole Einstein time theory, startling by it's incomprehensibility. By the time I get to Santa Barbara it feels like I've been in the jeep for a week. Good to be home but a bit thirsty and I meet Johnny and bring him the loving messages from the Wus as I knock back the dust from the mind numbing drive with an ice cold Sierra. It all hits me and I get home and sit for a bit thinking about all the ideas and plans that are about to be put into action. The ocean lulls me to sleep.