Ta kill ya

I had planned on launching into a soliloquy on aging but thought better of it. Many of my friends got years or decades on me and are doing just fine. The reality is that I am hurtling towards my 53 year and with any luck should arrive at my destination round the sixth of November.

No matter how you choose to slice it, 53 ain't exactly a spring chicken. Even after a solipsistic lifetime playing the lead role in the Sommers version of Lost Boy of Wonderland I have to admit that the body is breaking down faster than a Chevy Vega and I am sporting a new ailment about every full moon.

I saw my neighbor's Mom yesterday, first time in about a decade and she gasped at how the six gray hairs on my temple now have a forest of silver companions. Hairs regularly sprout from strange places on my face, got a long one that exudes from the side of my nose. Ears, eyebrows and nostrils require regular deforestation. My high school weight of 135 has not exactly doubled but is now in double XXL territory.

My body, which I will only view in the mirror with a straight on tangential orientation, has seen more scars then Joan River's plastic surgeon. Double inguinal hernia with hydroseal and perforation, three knee operations (both knees), kidney cancer twice, sinus surgery, adult asthma, Chronic Active Hepatitis (three times), Acute allergic rhino sinusitis, Mitral Valve heart repair, bladder cancer, ureter cancer, shoulder muscle tear, heart attack, high blood pressure and enlarged heart. What the fuck is left? Have I forgot anything?

Big Dave came down for his birthday and I fell ass over teakettle playing frisbee golf with him and now am dealing with a soft tissue injury in my right ankle that is morphing into plantar fasciitis. If I can't look forward to more ailments in my seriously declining years, what do I have to look forward to?

My last surgery left a big hump on my left side at the kidney site. Imagine it is scar tissue and whatnot but I look a bit like Igor in Young Frankenstein, except the hump stays on my left side and doesn't move around so much.

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Fifty two has its advantages and disadvantages. I think you stop needing to pollinate every flower at some point and just appreciate the flower. When I was a wealthy and cocky real estate developer, I had so much drive. Needed to win, needed to dominate. I was very fortunate but not really necessarily ever satiated. Some of my friends have told me that I became much nicer after the crash and the downhill slide. Now I have a great wife and great friends, and they are the most important things in my life. And I manage to get by.

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We did a fair amount of eating, cavorting and imbibing this weekend and it was pretty glorious. When Brigitte and I have a few pops, we usually start singing and this weekend was no different. We found ourselves at the pub for bloody mary's in the late afternoon and met some younger fellows who just knew that we were liberals and wanted to caution us about Obama and the evils of marxism. How did these kids get so reactionary? Is it because there is no more draft? Did you ever notice that there are no more war photos or even coffin photos shown any more, war is now such a nice, hygienic affair.

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I drive to San Francisco tomorrow for various assignations and then a short trip to see my father. Next week finds me driving to New Mexico for a few weeks so blog transmissions might prove spotty. Not that I have been in a loquacious mood anyway.

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Leslie and I were invited to a tequila tasting party and dinner tonight courtesy of Delos Eyer and his La Caseta restaurant. We dined and sipped out on the patio with an interested group of fellow tequila aficionados. It was actually very fascinating. A tequila distiller and expert named Tom Estes spoke on the finer points of the distilled spirit and gave us a history and education of the different types - Tequila area, Highland varieties, apellations, tequila terroir, etc.. We drank tequilas with aftertastes of caramel, lemon, anise, grapefruit, all sorts of different hints. We had neutral tequilas like patron and heavily flavored tequilas. Forward tequilas and tequilas that nestled in your throat. Smooth clear concoctions and unfiltered thick nectar. We were served wonderful food courses in between the anejos and reposadas. The distiller makes a very young tasting Ocho tequila that was sophisticated and delicious. Our favorite might have been the Don Julio. I forgot to bring the list back. Will edit tomorrow if time permits. The food was simply divine. Grilled pineapple soaked in agave, little mexican street tacos, quesadillas, delicious ceviche. If you get a chance to go to one of his tastings, do so.

We even had a local Fallbrookian graciously pour some of his own special vintage of tequila that he is working on in Mexico. A dark butterscotch tequila that would be perfect with dessert. I come away from the evening with both a nice buzz and a deeper appreciation for the agave nectar. Salud!