Follow the Trail of Beers Through Redwood City, Whose "Climate Is Best By Government Test"

Trail of Beers

A good deal of the past couple of weeks has involved drinking, not a great volume at any given time, but there each day seems to have an event that has had drinking involved as one of its central tenets. It is not a great volume of said liquid, but it has been a consistent consumption pattern since I arrived here. The beer's just so good. This all may not come as a surprise, especially at the end of this year, and I'm sure many of you may question whether I've become an alcoholic. The true answer is I hope not, the correct answer, however, is probably not, but I have considered the possibility...so periodcally I say no and listen to the little voice in my head. So far it remains silent and begs me not to change my mind...so for now I remain in the clear. Mostly, that little voice in my head cries out for water: "Give me water; it's hot out; I'm thirsty.

So here are the events as they follow the trail of beers:
1 Bottle: Games night at Dan and Z's
1 Pint: Fisherman's Wharf
2 Pints: Flat tire and dinner at the Dutch Goose.
1 Pint: Softball victory
2 Pints: Teacher party
1 Bottle: Peer pressure, Dan and Z's house for dinner
1 Beers: Lazy night of Movies
0 Beers: Night of Cricket and Jamaican food with Deepak and KJ
1 Bottle: Dinner at the Tates
0 Beers: Night of coffee, reading, and writing
1 Gin, 2 Wine, 1 Margarita: No more school, Dinner with John and Wendy
0 Beers: 4th of July (will power - but not really, no desire for beer, just water)
0 Beers: Out all day, no desire for beer

So you see, this is a consistent, but not very exciting trail and with the exception of the evening with John and Wendy, not altogether impressive drinking. I know, it doesn't hold up to the harrowing aspects of other American trails, such as the Trail of Tears, the Oregon Trail, or the Trail(er) Park Boys. Fortunately, I won't be driven from my home, catch dysentery, or end up living in Sunnyvale trailer park in Nova Scotia.

Instead what I've had was a number of great nights hanging out with some of my very best friends, and a surprise hanging out with Deepak, who was in town from Detroit-ish. It was great seeing him and playing a little bit of cricket. I shall convert you all, bwah ha ha. I do have to admit that two person cricket has its disadvantages, among them having to run....A LOT. Deepak, KJ, and I went out afterwards to one of my old favorites, the Mango Cafe, which has since changed hands, but remains a good place. The smoothies aren't as good, big, or cheap as they used to be, but I think the food is better now.

On one Saturday, Dan and Zorina, Alan and Lexy, and myself, all got together to play some games and catch up. We talked about a lot of things, but the conversation that stands out to me is one that we had on leading a happy, fun life. Zorina brought up the topic after noting that one of her friends, who went out frequently to drink and party, even though she has a family (not in a neglectful way mind you) seems to be pretty darn happy with her life. Zorina postulated that maybe that's what she and Dan should be doing with theirs. This spurred on a great conversation and to some extent a debate on what it means to be happy, is appearing happy the same thing as being happy? And what can we all do to lead happier lives.

Does allowing one's self to be a little less responsible allow a person to be happier? Maybe, but there's a trade off, as always. There are a lot of negative consequences to abandoning the responsibilities we've taken on, but at the same time if our lives are burdened entirely by responsibilities, there are other, albeit different negative consequences. Each of us has things that hinder our ability to live in a way that creates a harmonic balance for us, and I think Alan hit it on the head when he said that we need to learn to let go. It means something different to each of us. For Zorina maybe letting the house be a little bit dirty, for Alan perhaps accepting a little less homework from students, for Lexy perhaps letting go of a little security, and for me... where do I start: perhaps letting go of having to know what's coming down the road and just be in the moment, perhaps letting go of a million harebrained ideas that arise from the first, or maybe, just maybe letting go of that search for the woman of my dreams. My sister's not the only one well aware of this propensity. I assure you there's more, but enough's enough. We all have something to just let go of.

Then Tuesday with John and Wendy considering the possibilities for the world, discussing politics and education, travel and literature. Offering sanctuary if the private armies of Blackwater decide to make a bid for a neo-con take-over of America and discussing the pros and cons of sticking it out through this imaginary war. Or, as with Derry, considering the implications of and possibility that 9-11 may not have been as we imagine it. Is the contrary evidence enough for us to consider that this was not the work of a terrorist organization, but a corporate conspiracy steeped in insurance fraud?

Agree or disagree with them, this is one of the things I love so much about my friends and what I missed and will miss about them when I leave again, this time back to the land of my motherland, so to speak. After 12 months of suffocation by incessantly tedious small talk, punctuated by refreshing gasps of enlightened conversation with some of the people I became close to, it's so refreshing to have truly stimulating conversation that keeps me mulling over my thoughts and ruminations hours or days after they've happened. I will miss that indeed.

Blowout

Monday was a day that would live in infamy. Well that may be exaggerated. Okay, that is grossly exaggerated. I had gone to visit Alan in order to whittle down my already enormously whittled down book collection which, although not a "fun" experience, was a good exercise in just letting go. Oh man, it was hard getting down to a single box from a collection of several hundred great books. It was too painful for Alan to watch, and he had just had to look away. Alan is perhaps, well no perhaps about it, is certainly a bibliophile on a far greater scale than myself, who I consider to be bookish.

So after the great sorting out, I hopped on my bike and made my way back home. I hadn't gone more than a mile of the six I had to go when I hear *Pop* *Sissssss* Doh!. I knew right away what that meant. It meant that I would be walking the next five miles.

After I pulled out the nail, I proceeded to walk in the direction of home. About another mile down the road, a lady pulled up next to me, and I thought "Oh, how nice." That's when she asked me for directions and drove off after receiving them without ever questioning why I was walking in the bike lane when I was brandishing what appeared to be a perfectly good bike. Some people. It was about that time when it occurred to me that I could call Derry to come pick me up while I had a beer and some dinner at The Dutch Goose, a local pub. So with the offer of a beer and dinner, he was gladly on his way to relieve me of my predicament.

Independence Day Extravaganza

Wednesday rolled around and that meant Independence day; it was July 4th. July 4th, being the day commemorating the signing of the U.S. declaration of Independence, which did not, I might add begin or end the war for independence, but rather fell somewhere in the middle of the whole business.

I was meant to be going to Santa Cruz with Derry and some of his friends, which would have been a great deal of fun, but I knew my time here was quickly drawing to an end and that I would soon have to leave my friends behind. I wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. So I decided to join them in Redwood City for the celebrations there.

Redwood City, for most of the time that I lived there (prior to Palo Alto) was a boring place to live. I have been known in the past to have called it Deadwood Shitty, and I was not alone in this mocking moniker. But since then, Redwood City has grown into a livelier sort of place with a number of theatres, a public square, great restaurants, and good live acts. The Fourth of July festivities were a clear indication that Redwood City, dubbed as the home of the nation's best climate (which is high praise, and mostly pretty true), wanted nothing more than to drop the moniker from people's civic lexicon. The celebration was off the hook.

There were dozens of classic cars, and BBQ, a small carnival, live music, a battle of the Bands between the University of California (UC) Davis, and Stanford, to see who could out play the other. It was hot out though, and it was hard to stay out in the heat for too long, especially with Luke and Lily in tow. But they did pretty well for such little ones, I have to admit. Besides, by time they were ready to leave, so was I. It was good fun.

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