By lex, on October 30th, 2012
Friday November 9th is my dad’s birthday and in honor of it my mom would like to get a group together of anyone and everyone who is in San Diego and wants to get a beer (Guinness, of course). The plan is Shakespeare’s Pub on 3701 India St.
San Diego, CA 92103 around 5:30PM and planning to stay until 7 or 8PM. We would love it if whoever can swing it can come by, although we understand not everyone lives in San Diego so we aren’t expecting much.
Also, each of us kids plans on posting a little something on the blog for his birthday so we’re hoping you guys might check that out when the time comes.
Thanks always- Kat
05-23-20 I thought I had gotten all we could get from the Wayback Machine, but I came across a couple more. As to what the “kids” planned on posting, just as 8 years ago, wait and see 😉
And of course the meet at Shakespeare’s was 8 years ago, not this November 9th, although maybe we should have another one in honor of Hizzoner?
Posted by lex, on January 14, 2006
Got a call from an occasional reader who was going to be in town this weekend, to see a young man from his church graduate from the Marine Corps Recruit Depot right here in Sandy Eggo. Asked, would I be interested in a round of golf?
I would, as it turned out.
Thank you very much, Mark.
Got us a tee-time at
NAS MCAS Miramar. He even paid, which he oughtn’t have done, it being my hometown after all, and himself only a guest. But he insisted, said he’d put it back in the tip jar if I paid.
So you know what? I let him. I gave in. Turns out I’m not an oak.
It’s a habit, I’m falling in.
Posted by lex, on Fri – February 18, 2005 at 06:13 PM
Bottled water, just now. It’s still early, and anyway I had a beer (Guinness, if you must know – for strength * !) with lunch today.
How and why that came to be will be yours to discover once you have clicked “read more” below.
There is a long and circular tale about Monday that I want to share, only I am not quite sure just how to tell it. Hmm.
(Caution: If you can’t abide stories about men lashing the turf in search of little white balls to scrape around [golf, in other words], skip ahead a few lines, brother.)
Well anyway, the surface forces were having their annual golf classic at the air station where I work. Being the team player that I am, and believing it’s all for the best to share of oneself, I signed up a team from our organization. We were a pretty diverse bunch, if you can call four white naval officers between the age of 36 and 50 (I was not the oldest!) diverse. Which I know wouldn’t pass muster at the kinds of places where ethnicity is parsed with purséd lips and diversity is carefully sifted, weighed and assessed, but as I was saying, and to get back on the tale itself, we were diverse, for us: One aviator, one surface warfare officer (for form’s sake, and anyway he’s the best golfer on the staff), one submariner and an admin guy.
I had a friend with an interesting commute. He worked in San Jose for a now defunct disk drive manufacturer, Maxtor (bought by Seagate I believe). He used to write the system code for the drives.
He lived in Reno, Nevada and every Sunday night would start his long commute to San Jose. I would say that he drove almost 300 miles, down the Sierras, through the Valley, then into the Bay Area. This could be through rain, snow, traffic.
Every Friday evening, he would drive back to Reno. I can only imagine trying to navigate the Bay Area traffic gridlock on the way back to Reno after a week’s work – then, what has become common, Sacramento area gridlock.
By lex, on June 11th, 2011
Was unable to access the blog this AM during the customary hours of, well: Blogging. Spent half the morning trying to figure it out, and half the rest exchanging barbs with my hosting service. Then I had to fly. Had to. Five times, in the event. Which, even for a skydog like your host, is laying it on a bit thick. The first four were nobbut 30 minute learn-to-flies, and the last a dogfight. My man was six feet six and I had misgivings, but he managed to fold himself into the cramped back seat of the Mighty Varga, even if he had to go barefoot to do so.
Posted by Lex, on March 17th, 2008
I hope you’re wearing the green and preparing to drink of the brown once the sun goes over the yardarm. Somewhere. Because it’s Saint Patrick’s Day precious and we are all, all of us Irish today.
Our quotidian labors being done – sufficient to the day the evils thereof – herself and your correspondent have every intention of taking the trolley into the Gaslamp this e’en for to partake of the festivities:
This year’s musical block party at Sixth and Market streets has Irish rock legends the Young Dubliners, DJ Marc Thrasher, DJ Brent Bartel, local Celtic bands, and traditional Irish dancers.
And I know what you’re asking yourself, constant reader: You’re wondering whether it might be possible to buy your humble scribe a Guinness on this most sacred day of the season.
The answer is yes. Yes of course you can.
Update: Thought for the day – “Work is the curse of the drinking class.”
By lex, on August 7th, 2011
Today I took the day off. Played golf in the morning (80 at Torrey Pines North), flew twice in the afternoon, took the Hobbit out to the cinema, then out for appetizers and adult beverages.
Back To The Index
By lex, on July 31st, 2011
No flights this weekend, so your host was free to indulge hisself, like. Played an early morning round o’ golf at MCAS Miramary, and shot an asymmetric 48/38.
Because you care to know.
This has become something of a habit with me of late, fierce struggles on the front nine followed by relatively smooth sailing on the back. It’s a mystery.