Mendocino Greeno

Rachelle and I decided to get out of town for the weekend, so we loaded up the 4Runner and headed for a dog-friendly hotel in Fort Bragg. We stayed at the Emerald Dolphin Inn, which is both a hotel and a bitchi' mini-golf "complex". I'm pretty sure the mini-golf is new since the last time we stayed there. Not quite the Four Seasons, but it was comfortable and they gave us a sheet to cover any furniture (i.e., bed) Lucy would be sleeping on. And we were half a mile away from an off-leash dog beach. All of which made Lucy extremely happy. We've taken her to the lake a lot and she really likes the water there. This was a little different. It was all fun and games until she got hit by a wave. Scary stuff! And she seemed really confused by the salty taste. All in all, though, she seemed to enjoy the whole experience.

The North Coast is kind of how I picture California in the 60's and 70's. Lots of unwashed folk and dope smoking. One guy hanging out on the sidewalk in Mendocino actually asked us if we'd be interested in listening to a poem he wrote. Umm, NO. We wandered around looking for a place to grab a quick lunch and moseyed past Mendo Burger. As we walked across the dining patio past 2 people smoking dope at a picnic table I heard one say to the other, "Better go, we've got customers". Both the cook and the counter person were out smoking their "medicine". Didn't give me a lot of confidence in my lunch actually getting "prepared", but I was willing to risk it. The dude who took our order ("Cheech") seemed really confused when I asked for bacon on my burger (it was on the menu). Whatever. Maybe I'll get it, maybe I won't. He wrote down our orders and then called over the chick he'd been smoking with and said, "You figure this out". My hopes for a burger anytime in the near future we dimming considerably. Several very complicated mathematical computations on the calculator later, we paid and hit the patio to wait for our meal. And waited. And waited. We started to think either, A) they'd forgotten why they were cooking the burgers or, B) they got the munchies and decided to eat our lunch themselves. Finally, our meals appeared. And the cook and counter person grabbed the picnic table next to us to finish their "medicine". Good food, good waves and a good second-hand high. God bless the hippies!

Bo: 1998-2008

After 7 1/2 years with us, Bo suffered kidney, liver and other failures yesterday. Rest in peace, little guy.

Prius Envy...

You can tell gas prices are finally starting to have an effect on people. One of Rachelle's co-workers swapped her Mercedes for our Prius for the day to see if she should trade her Benz in on something more "practical". Not sure what her decision is yet, but it's weird that the same people who made fun of her for buying it last year are now REALLY interested in getting one. Another of her co-workers is on a waiting list for their very own Prius. HA! I can't tell you how many people told me last year that "you'll never get your money out of a hybrid in gas savings". Bullshit. The Prius didn't cost any more than an average sedan with half the features, and we're getting 50+ MPG. I say "we" because I'm putting as few miles on my 20 MPG 4Runner as possible.

Anyway, I'm thinking about moving beyond a hybrid for my next mode of transportation. I've been researching the different kinds of scooters that could move a 200(+?) pound man to happy hour. And home. Leaning towards a really macho/manly looking Vespa. Maybe get some after-market tassels for the handle bars. And some chrome.

I Really Miss Webvan...

Just saw that I hadn't posted anything since February 25th. Either I'm living a really boring life, or... OK, so I'm living a boring life. That doesn't mean I haven't actually been doing anything. I'll have to get to that tomorrow, but I wanted to post this picture from the Raley's grocery near my house. They now have something called the "ecart". For those of you who were around NorCal during the internet boom/bubble, you might remember the wonders of Webvan. Webvan was an on-line grocery that delivered all the crap you ordered from their web page to your house within a 30-minute delivery window. And they delivered beer. GENIUS! Until they went bankrupt. Anyway, my local Raley's now has something called the "ecart". It's basically Webvan for the (slightly) less lazy. You are still able to order all your crap via the internets (as long as the tubes aren't all clogged with people surfing for porn/celebrity gossip), and they'll have it bagged and ready for you when you get to the store. I'm pretty sure you don't even have to get out of your car. You might have to actually wear "pants" to get your groceries, but you don't have to deal with "people", i.e., "MORONS WHO WANT TO WRITE A CHECK IN THE EXPRESS LANE AND THEY DON'T EVEN START WRITING THE CHECK UNTIL THE FINAL TOTAL IS RUNG UP AND THEN THEY TAKE THE TIME TO WRITE THE AMOUNT IN THE CHECK REGISTER BEFORE THEY MOVER THEIR LAZY ASSES OUT OF THE WAY". But I digress. I'll make sure to post my review of the whole ecart experience at a later date.

Last Call?

"Hmmmm, I wonder where I could get some liquor?" Fortunately, my local gas station is there just in case I need an early morning jolt. I know it might be a little hard to see (had to take the picture with my surprisingly crappy iPhone camera), but the sign in front of the Shell station says, "LIQUOR SOLD HERE". Sweet! Although it's not as good as the gas stations where I grew up in Nebraska. There, you could get gas, beer/liquor AND ammo. At least during hunting season. They kept the 12-gauge shells on the counter next to the male enhancement and/or diet pills. I don't think there's much of a hunting season in Orangevale. I guess we could have peacock season or something. Hear they taste a little like squirrel.

Lucy's New Friend

No, we haven't gotten a new puppy. We had some serious storms here a couple weeks ago and our neighbor's fence blew down. Leaving just enough room for their new puppy to squeeze through. Lucy is extremely happy to have a new friend to play with, but Bo doesn't like other dogs. He doesn't like Lucy much some days, much less a tiny, wiggly puppy that wants to play. They fixed their fence last weekend and Bailey can't get over anymore. So sad for both of them. She's managed to dig a very small hole under the fence. Big enough to get her head through, small enough that she can't make it all the way through.


Lucy hasn't given up hope, though. She goes to the bedroom window when she hears the neighbor dogs are out. It's a little frightening that we have a dog big enough to look out the window without standing on anything but the floor. It's not like it's a low window, either. I'd love for some perv to try peeping in the bedroom window and come face-to-face with her. Lucy, not Rachelle. Lucy's a little scarier looking.