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Journal of No. 118


February 14th, 2005

booze-fueled travels to Santa Barbara and the Caribbean @ 10:54 am

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Saturday, Rebecca and I whimisically decided to go one one of our irregular pilgrimages to the Santa Barbara wine country. The influence of Sideways is readily apparent, but in typical lemming fashion, only the wineries featured in the film are getting much extra business. Fortunately, most of the wineries we frequent are not on the list. Indeed, several on the list are giant, soulless, mechanized wine factories (I'm looking at you, Firestone). Anecdotally, the wineslinger at Mosby said that although the tasting rooms are packed, there is not that big an increase in sales. Then again (if I may use a phrase that is probably too appropriate to use without confusion) those grapes are probably sour, anyway. Another couple at Mosby said that Sanford's tasting room and parking lot was so packed that they gave up.
After our traditional stop at Mosby, and hearing the traditional patter from the wineslinger, we moved on to Los Olivos, home of some of the best wines in the area at the sibling wineries of Los Olivos Vineyards and Arthur Earl. Between the two of them, I think we picked up about 10 bottles.
We almost went to the Sidestreet Cafe in Los Olivos, but we remembered having had slow service when we were there the last time. So we tried the Los Olivos Cafe, which I now discover was also in the movie. The proprietor committed a colossal fib in suggesting that a table would be free in 15 minutes. A half-hour later, we gave up on them and went back to the Sidestreet Cafe. The service was still pretty inattentive, but we sat down immediately, and the food is good.
Having burned off some of the wine, we hit the road again, skipping a couple wineries, because of the overflowing parking lots. Got in a last stop at Gainey, where they had some good white wines, and then over the hills back to the 101 and home.
We had a few hours to chill at home before we set out for our second alcoholic vacation for the day. This time, it was rum-tasting hosted by the ever-rummy Richard. It was delightful to see Richard take such joy in explaining the nature and manufacture of rum. He was clearly in his element. We travelled the islands of the Caribbean, tasting rum at every port of call. As a sipping drink, I still prefer scotch and tequila to rum, but it was fun to borrow someone else's monomania for an evening. They were indeed fine rums, though I don't care for the sweeter ones. I think my favorite was Sea Wynde.

On Sunday, Becca had to go into work at the new building in Burbank to put her desk in order. That sucked, but it gave me an opportunity to slink to the Third Street Promenade to find her a little something for Valentine's Day. Yahoo Personals has a giant haystack full of needles set up in the middle of the Promenade. Pretty odd.
I couldn't find any of the things I wanted, but found a couple gifts that weren't totally pathetic.

Today, I arrived at work to find that once again, someone tried to pry their way into the office. The alarm must have scared them off without stealing anything, but the door will again have to be replaced.

Okay, that's all for the personal stuff. Next entry will be a boring book review that the whole family can ignore.
 
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Journal of No. 118