PurpAnd

A few years ago I went river rafting with some friends down the American River here in Sacramento. It’s a leisurely summertime activity and usually involves a huge rented raft, a cooler, and a whole bunch of friends. Our event was no exception.

We headed up the hill late one Saturday morning in June and picked up our 8-person raft. We were set with food and refreshments and carried it all down the beach trail to the water. After stripping down (just a little), applying sunscreen, and loading up, we drifted our way out into the main stream.

It was a crowded day on the river with many rafts pulled off to the side picnicking and partying. As we came around a bend into an open area we noticed a whole bunch of groups parked along the riverbank. One group in particular caught our attention…

A small group of 3 or 4 guys were huddled around a goose in the water. One guy thought he’d be cool and throw something at it, then another guy had to escalate the situation so he picked up a rock - about the size of a basketball - and tossed it at the goose. Ass. Well, he hit it and the goose began to flail. Seeing this horrible display, one of my friends (an assistant district attorney and a rural California native) jumped out of the raft and swam to these neanderthals to give them a piece of his mind.

Upon arriving at the goose, he picked it up and carried it over to the rock-chucker. He said you need to be a man and put this goose down. The guy refused. This made things worse and the two got into a shouting match.

The other guys did not like this one bit so they came charging toward my friend. This sparked the protective response in two of us in the raft and we jumped out to come to our friend’s aid. It was a bit of a trek, through water and over rocky shoreline, so by the time I arrived at the group, (a good 50 yards from where I had lept out of the raft), our assistant DA friend was back in the water floating downstream, my other friend was being chased into the river, and I was surrounded by three guys - one of whom didn’t waste any time and clobbered me right in the face.

I was knocked off my feet and into the water. My sunglasses were shaken from my head (I ended up losing them). As I was kneeling face down in the river, he continued to punch me in the back of the head until I finally got smart and yelled, “that’s enough!” Once the pummeling stopped, I rose out of the water and noticed about 30 people staring at me. I had been in a fight, got whooped in a hurry, and never even threw a punch. Manly, eh ladies?

Shaking from the adrenaline, I made my way back to our raft and we cruised for a bit until we saw a police officer standing up on the levy (we never did find out if he was there in response to our episode). We pulled out of the water and gave the whole story to the cop. We waited, waited, and waited some more for this group of guys to come by, but they never did. We got back in the raft and tried to have a good time the rest of the way, but it was difficult. Hard to ignore an episode like this. Once we reached the end, we waited again, but still, these guys didn’t show. Perhaps they left their raft and ran off, or maybe they took it with them. In any case, they did not finish on the river that day.

After it was all said and done, I was bruised and slightly bloodied, and there was no one to take the blame. I had made a poor choice to get involved and I had to learn the hard way. I earned no merit badge for fighting (although you could argue I earned a merit badge in punching baggedness), and I was extremely embarrased and emasculated in front of my friends.

Few people know this story, only those who were there that day, but I figured it was time to share. I learned a lot from this experience… 1) if you’re gonna back someone up, make sure they are there still when you arrive, 2) don’t approach a gang with an aggressive look on your face, 3) don’t try to take the law into your own hands, 4) mind your business as much as possible, and most importantly 5) I am not as scary/intimidating as I think I am.

I was extremely saddened by what these guys did to that bird, I was angered that they wouldn’t do the humane thing (after being so inhumane), and I was embarrased when I got my butt kicked. When it comes to my friends though, there isn’t much I won’t do… and that includes taking a few punches.

What can I say about 2009? Not my favorite year, but there are some good things to be taken from it. I’ll leave it at that and open my eyes, heart, and mind for good things to reach me in 2010. Happy New Year everyone.

Last weekend I traveled to West Virginia and Pennsylvania. It was a short trip, but one that I had wanted to take for a long time. Within 42 hours I saw: one of my dad’s childhood homes, drank beer from a fishbowl, dominated in some BuzzTime trivia, played Beatles RockBand, went to a WVU football game, ate a sandwich at Primanti Bros., went out in downtown Pittsburgh, and had a riverfront brunch with my cousins and aunt and uncle.

One of the highlights of the trip was the WVU (West Virginia University) football game. I had been to college games before at my alma mater UC Davis, but they are nothing like what I experienced last Saturday. First of all, the game was at noon. So my cousin says, ‘we gotta get up early to tailgate.’ I asked, ‘what’s early?’ and she smiled, “9 am.” And compared to her friends’ plans that was a late start! By the time we arrived near the stadium all the best tailgate spots were taken so we settled for a small parking lot up the hill. It ended up being perfect, we had our own little powwow with a few brews, a pepperoni roll, and chips and dip. We then walked to the stadium through the sea of blue and gold and into Lot B - tailgate Mecca. We bumped into a few friends, then rushed through the gates to go get some WVU merchandise. I was given a WVU sweatshirt and t-shirt, but I needed a hat to complete the look. A few minutes later I was decked out and we made it to our seats near the end zone. Here is my cousin and I at the field.

The crowd was nuts. Hyped and energized for the game, the patrons sang along to Simple Gifts and Country Roads. And then something happened that simply touched me. See, WVU was playing U Conn, who a week earlier had lost one of their teammates in a horrible stabbing incident after a school party. When the U Conn players took the field, they carried out their fallen teammates jersey. The entire stadium stood and applauded. Players from each team walked to the middle of the field, shook hands, and then everyone paused for a moment of silence. Here are the teams shaking hands.

This was one of the single greatest exhibitions of sportsmanship I have ever seen.

After the game, the WVU coach took his team over to the student section of the stands to show his appreciation. Leaving the stadium I felt incredibly proud to have been there that day. I was treated like I belonged and I was impressed by the humanity of a fan base that can sometimes get a tad crass (”Eat shit Pitt!). side note: the University of Pittsburgh is WVU’s main rival. More on that in a second.

Hanging around Morgantown the night before the game, I witnessed what it’s like on game weekends. We stopped by a local bar to grab a drink - beer out of a fishbowl (the place is called Mario’s Fishbowl). While in the bar people would randomly chant “Eat shit Pitt! Eat shit Pitt!” So funny because WVU wasn’t even playing Pittsburgh. It’s just what they yell… a lot. My cousin says that sometimes you can hear the fans chant that over the television. The other funny thing about the Fishbowl was that everyone who came through the door was greeted to applause and a lot of hootin’ and hollerin’. It cracked me up to see these people realize they were the ones getting welcomed so warmly. Most were embarrassed, but some played into it and started cheering right back, which invariably evolved into more eat shit Pitt chants.

Anyway, after the football game on Saturday we headed up to Pittsburgh. We stayed downtown and went out to a few local spots that my cousins were fond of, but we really spent most of the night watching football highlights while drinking whiskey at the hotel lobby bar. Sunday morning was gorgeous and we had brunch at a restaurant in a former train station along the river. And that was it.

Here are some more photos from the trip.

Some early fall colors.

Point Park - Pittsburgh - view from the hotel room

Pittsburgh - view from up above the river, or should I say rivers

For another run-down of the weekend, check out my cousin’s blog at The Little Cat.

If you’ve checked in on my Twitter feed you’re aware that I have moved recently from San Francisco to Sacramento. And you may have inferred from my twitter activity, and from my use of I instead of We, that T and I are no longer together.

I don’t want to get into why this happened, but I can give you the scoop on what has been happening the past three months… T moved out in June in favor of her own place in San Francisco. She was lucky to find a nice in-law type unit in a good San Francisco neighborhood, while I was lucky to find a roommate to share the rent. The change has been difficult, but it was not unexpected. Things had not been so great in the relationship for a while and we both came to the conclusion that it was better to end it now rather than continue to build a life together that was not the best for us.

After the separation, I struggled to decide whether or not I wanted to stay in San Francisco. I created a bunch of pro and con lists and each time Sacramento came out as the best choice. So as of last Wednesday, I am a Sacramentan, again. For those who don’t know, T and I met at UC Davis and lived in Sacramento for three years prior to our move to San Francisco. It feels more like home to me here, and now that I’ve actually finished the move (ugh, I hate moving), I know it was the right choice.

I have slowly been piecing together the holes in my life and normalcy is returning. Being in Sacramento close to friends and family has helped tremendously. I have played golf twice in 10 days, something I never did while living in San Francisco. I’m living downtown and can walk to work in under 15 minutes. I found a spot two blocks from one of the main thoroughfares so there are plenty of eateries around and I am only six blocks from a major grocery store. I was lucky to find the place and I thank Erin and Brendan for their recommendation.

Although I know that Sacramento is the best place for me right now, I still miss San Francisco. I miss the smell in the morning, I miss the people in my old office, and I just generally miss the old life I had. It’s ok though because I am growing from this experience, just as I had grown from living in San Francisco, and eventually things will be all right in my world.

If you don’t like beer, bars, or boys being boys, you probably won’t like this post…

Last Friday my friend from San Diego flew up to hang out with me here in the City. He and I were gonna hit a couple of good restaurants, maybe go see the photo exhibits at the Museum of Modern Art, and pretty much just take it easy.

I had enough time between work and his arrival Friday night that my coworker and I caught a movie (The Hurt Locker - pretty good portrayal of an anti-IED crew in Iraq, in my opinion). I met him at his hotel shortly after he arrived in the Financial District. As I dropped my stuff off and headed to the bathroom to refresh, two more of my friends jumped out to surprise me! This was greatly unexpected. One of them had just been in SF two days earlier and the other had flown up from Irvine.

What was planned as a slow SF touristy weekend quickly morphed into a guys weekend out in the City. After posting up at the hotel lounge for a quick bite and beverage, we headed out to some old favorite spots… first, Kate O’Brien’s - an Irish bar that specializes in Guinness, Jameson, and loud music. We were there for a short time, but it was long enough to witness two different girls fall on the floor. It was only a little after 11pm at that point. Recognizing trouble, we took off.

From Kate’s we went to the Thirsty Bear just up the street. This is a solid microbrew that also serves Spanish tapas. Mmmm. Although we weren’t hungry, we thought a nice cold one would serve us well. Unfortunately, the bartender informed us that they had stopped serving only 10 minutes earlier. Ugh.

A little further up the street is the W Hotel. Off the lobby is the XYZ bar, a poshy little club-like lounge that seems to cater to the sophisticated, more well-to-do crowd. Sensing they could use some non-poser influence of a few guys from the Central Valley, we strolled to the bar and ordered what four Valley boys order in places like that - Bud Light followed by kamikazes.

Now, we aren’t as young as we once were and by this time we were all feeling a bit exhausted. We called it a night at 12:30.

Saturday morning we hung out a bit at the farmer’s market near the Ferry Building. We had lunch plans at Dosa on Fillmore so we didn’t stay at the market for long. Dosa is incredible southern Indian food. Southern Indian food has all the goodness of Indian food but with the added flair of serving it in crepe-like things. Perfect.

After lunch we took a brief trip to Coit Tower, since some of us had never seen it up close, and then headed back downtown for FroYo and a showing of the Hangover. Yes, I’ve seen it three times and that may be just a little ridiculous, but it’s so funny to me.

Saturday night included dinner at House of Nanking near Jackson Square and Chinatown. This place consistently has a line out the door and Saturday was no exception. It was probably the best Chinese food I’ve had in years.

After dinner we met up with a couple other friends and tried to go to Momo’s near AT&T Park. Unfortunately, Kenny Chesney was playing that night so we couldn’t get a parking spot near the place. So instead we went to 21st Amendment in South of Market. This is another restaurant/microbrew place that is pretty solid. We ended up staying here for a while, watching the concert crowd file in and then slowly dissipate. This was our last stop and we managed to stay out until last call (maybe I was wrong earlier about the being old part, yay for us).

Heading home that night I thought about how great a weekend it was and how lucky I am to have friends that are willing to travel to see me when I can’t go see them. This weekend was planned for me and my friends did a fantastic job keeping me entertained. Well done guys and thanks.