Nobody 819

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Nobody 819

Nobody Asked Me But:

John Wooden died too young on Friday. He was

99.

Yet the word that he is gone sends a shock through the system of any Los Angeles sports fan. For almost all of us, the Wizard of Westwood was simply always here. He was as glorious a part of the landscape as the blue sky over the Rose Bowl, the Olympic flame above the Coliseum peristyle, the mountain view from the Santa Anita grandstand. Kevin Modesti

I could write pages about this great coach and greater man, but my words would fall short of those above, so I will leave you with these and tell you family tales, as I think Coach would have wanted.

My trip to Arizona last week to watch my granddaughter, Emily, go through her 8^th grade Transition (graduation) ceremony was both a thrill and a pleasure. My heart was filled with love and pride, just as it was two years ago when Ryan had his ceremony. Spending time with my children and grandchildren is one of the great joys in my life.

However, in one way my presence was a bit of a downer for Elizabeth, Ryan and Emily. I beat each of them in ping-pong. (Elizabeth twice, although in our second match I was down 20-17 and had to wage a great comeback to win in overtime.) And they are all PDG players.

Although Jimmy the B might disagree, while in college, I pretty much ruled the pp table at the Presbyterian Student Center, and it is good to know that some things never change.

And, yes, it is a long drive to Rio Rico, but not a difficult one, with two excellent audio books to listen to, treated to very good pizza when I got there and my wife’s tacos when I arrived home.<<<

Action: Gloria DiCenco was chatting amiably with a few Italian speakers at Tucson’s Beyond Bread on North Campbell Avenue on April 20 when armed men began coming in.

Reaction: When I fear for my life while picking up an order of maple-oatmeal scones for my wife, I know that Tucson has become a violence video game.

Reaction # 2: Does anyone want to play “The Wild, Wild West?”

Reaction # 3: No thanks. When I became a man I put away my childish things.

Action: As one answer to their budget crisis, Arizona’s version of that old song favorite, “Three Little Words” is: Rest Stop --- Closed.

Reaction: This, of course, can precipitate a crisis of another sort.

Action: Deputy Foreign Minister Danny Ayalon scoffed at calls for Israel to apologize, saying flotilla activists prompted the violence by attacking soldiers during the raid. "We do not need to apologize for defending ourselves."

Reaction: Actually you need two apologies – for being wrong and for being stupid.

Reaction # 2: Oh Israel, Israel! You make it so difficult.

Action: Ken Griffey Jr. retires.

Reaction: Griffey may be second only to Willie Mays as the most perfect player in Major League history.

Reaction # 2: Were it not for his many injuries, Griffey, not Bonds, would be baseball’s all-time home run leader.

Action: The Florida State League, in protesting the oil spill, will no longer take BP (batting practice). Instead they will take HR (hitting rehearsal).

Reaction: That’s cute!

Reaction # 2: It must be good, because it makes me smile.

Our journey home from the Northwest:

After a last minute ice cream stop at Mrs. Purdy’s, we headed back to the U.S. Our border crossing took about 30 minutes. Upon reaching the American side, my first act was to turn off the airplane mode on the iphone. It was great to be back on the Internet!

Our drive to the Willows Hotel, in the Seattle suburb of Woodinville, was short. This was our second stay at the Willows, and our good memories of the place were confirmed. At check-in, we were greeted with a glass of very good local wine. (Now that’s what I call civilized.) We each drank about half before heading out to explore.

After navigating a couple of new traffic rounders, our first stop was at the Minea Farm from where we brought home excellent applesauce on our last visit. We did so again, as well as a jar of cherry jam for me.

Moving on, and always vigilant for scenic must stops, I spotted a new ice cream store on the left. Deciding to check it out on the way back, we drove a couple of miles more into Redmond, as I intended to offer condolences to Microsoft for slipping to second behind Apple in tech company value. But not wanting to hurt their feelings or have them plant a virus in my Word program, I changed my mind. So back we went to what turned out to be a very popular ice cream shop stop. (Check out the clever sign.) My black raspberry and Barb’s fudge ripple were both delicious.

Our next pause was at the beautiful Chateau Ste. Michelle winery, across the street from our hotel, where my wife bought a couple of items for the kitchen. Then it was back to the Willows where I talked her into sharing a happy hour glass of wine and fries on their restaurant patio. It was a little cool but so nice that I could easily have lingered. After all, as the saying goes, “why limit happy to an hour?”

Adjacent to the hotel is the Red Hook Brewery where, on our last visit, we ate a nice meal on the patio. Not so on this very crowded Friday night, so we chose sitting at the bar over a long wait. Barb’s meatball sandwich was very good, as was my bowl of chili.

And, no, even though we received a clever warning card when we checked in, we were not serenaded that night by the Willows’ famous frogs.

Our three-day drive home from Woodinville was pleasant and fairly uneventful except for a huge traffic delay in Tacoma caused by highway construction. Our progress was so slow, (five miles took an hour) that it felt like another overnight stay – without a nice room or wine.

Over all, the trip was so good that our biggest complaint was that, with the exception of the Ashland Creek Inn, every place we ate breakfast had terrible toast.

But that’s life on the road.