7 come 11

I’m back in California. Yippee… Can’t complain too much – it’s much nicer weather... Amazingly enough, the Pussy Wagon actually started. She was poised and ready when I hopped off the LAX Park Place shuttle and had no issues during the ride back to Camarillo. The power was out on the CSUCI campus when I arrived although everything was cool once I returned from getting a bite to eat at Chuy’s. Chris was hanging out there and I decided to meet up with him and get myself some food and a beer…

I realize that it’s been a while since I last posted anything on this blog (perhaps that accounts for a large part of its dwindling readership…) although the reason for this isn’t that I’ve decided to abandon my remaining audience. On the contrary – I LOVE anyone that’s actually continued to read my silly rants and raves since returning from Europe (you see, that’s apparently when a large number of people decided that my postings were no longer interesting…). My feeling is that you and I are kindred souls and I would never abandon a kindred soul … I’ve just been a bit busy as of late. That and the fact that I’m perpetually lazy make updates to the blog more of a rarity…

What, exactly, has been eating up my time lately? Well, life I guess… Just the general day-to-day “things” that need to be done – nothing extremely important I suppose – just those standard tasks that one needs to do to survive… I did, however, make it back to Colorado for the holidays and that was cool. Wasn’t able to get back to Michigan this year (first time in my life, I think…) but did make it back to Longmont. It was nice to see that my house was still standing (not a shot against you, Todd, just a statement) and I was able to get back to some of my old routines. You know – playing a few DPT tournaments (I actually won at Buenos Tiempos!); switching my sleep schedule 180º and becoming pretty much nocturnal (I think Todd’s nocturnal by nature); meaning to do things (visit friends, go skiing, get the oil changed in Betsy, negotiate peace in the Middle East, etc…) but never getting around to actually doing them – stuff like that…

There was one night (well, morning to be more precise) that ended up being a bit interesting. Todd and I returned home after heading down to Long Shots for their regular Saturday evening poker tournament (DPT – I played poorly and Todd dealt). I was planning on hitting the sack at a reasonable hour – that was the plan – however, once the Jäger came out, my plans were inevitably altered. I think it was sometime around 7:00am when I finally stumbled to bed. Todd was crashed out in the hallway… I ended up with close to an hour of video from that night (most from my camera and some from Todd’s) and am actually planning to create the next Coriolis Video Blog (episode #75, if I am not mistaken) from it although I don’t know when I’ll get around to editing. And believe me, editing is required – I don’t think anybody should be subjected to some of the madness that was captured on the raw footage…

I also got some photos and video from the New Year’s Eve festivities at Buenos Tiempos although, if memory serves me correctly, nothing extremely interesting was captured. A bunch of video of people playing poker and your standard still shots of various people – all of which, I believe, have been posted to Todd’s MySpace page (the photos that is…). I most likely posted a couple along with this blog as well (meaning that I am planning to, but one never knows…) just to make all those out there that missed the party jealous. Of course poker was played (I came in second on the main tournament – won a $15 gift certificate), a Mexican buffet was served and the New Year was ushered in by a bunch of long-time friends … and me. It actually ended up being a rather good, if somewhat sedated party and, in my opinion, that’s exactly what you want for New Year’s Eve. It is, after all, amateur night for many a drunk driver and the cops are well aware of this. I wasn’t about to attempt to cover the 20 miles between the bar and my house impaired in any way whatsoever – I’ve been far too lucky thus far with my dice-rolls and figure that the probabilities are bound to play out – you can’t roll 7’s every time…

In fact I got a bit of a wake-up call a couple days before heading home for the holidays. It was the Friday before the holiday break and wine was served here at work. Everyone gathered in the kitchen for some festivities and I’ll admit that I had a few glasses of the ole fermented grape juice. I then headed over to TGI Friday’s and had a large Guinness and an appetizer before stopping by Bandit’s Grill and Bar for a rather large Coors Light (or maybe it was a Bud Light, either way…) on my way home. Now don’t get me wrong here, I wasn’t smashed or anything. I think it was around 7 or 8 o’clock when I finally left work and it was well past midnight when the cops pulled me over…

The front left headlight was out on the Pussy Wagon (this I was unaware of) and I was traveling at a speed somewhere around 10-15 MPH over the posted speed limit (nothing out of the ordinary here in California…). That’s when the headlights of the car that was speeding up behind me started flashing. It was then that I decided to see what the Pussy Wagon had in her and slammed the pedal to the metal to begin the chase. I figured that my 1990 Corolla was more than enough car to give these cops a run for their money.

Okay, so I’m embellishing a bit. What I actually did was immediately pull over to the side of the road, lowered the volume of my radio, rolled down my window and patiently waited for the nice officer to approach. This he did and, after requesting that I show him my driver’s license and registration, inquired as to whether I had had anything to drink that evening. I replied that I had drunk a couple of beers and was then politely asked to shut the car down and step out. I believe it was as I was following his instructions that I was informed that my left headlight was out. News to me…

They (there were actually two officers, one was standing by the passenger side of my car and I didn’t notice him until I got out) then began the standard routine of asking what I was doing in California (I have a Colorado license) and where I was heading that evening. I explained that I was out here on a contract job and was currently on my way home to the CSUCI campus about a mile or so away from where we were. Perhaps these officers were in the Christmas spirit as, after having me follow a light with my eyes a couple of times, they let me go. I didn’t receive any citation for the burnt out headlight nor the excessive speed. They just told me to go straight home and, as I was already heading there to begin with, I had no problem following their advice.

Okay, so I didn’t roll a 7 that time … however I was lucky enough to hit an 11. Something tells me that I would have been in a world of shit if those officers decided to give me a breathalyzer. I believe that I was perfectly fine to be driving (and I think the officers saw that) however, with the ever-lowering legal blood alcohol content figure these days, I probably would have blown higher. I think nowadays that the mere thought of alcohol is enough to get one arrested if this thought occurs whilst driving a vehicle. Whatever happened to individual aptitude? Isn’t it possible that some people can handle their alcohol better than others? But that would lead back to the actual problem – personal stupidity. I guess it’s just so much easier to turn everyone into criminals…

bis später,

Coriolis