We made another stop for gas at an exit in South Carolina. I pulled into one station because it had a sign out front for "Fine Wines and Gourmet Foods." Picture a smallish strip of buildings comprised of a liquor store, check cashing place, fireworks, gas/convenience store, and then the wine portion which was 3 rooms in size.
Frankly, I was astonished at the variety and quality of their selections. It was like I had stepped into an alternate dimension spanning a monster truck rally and a wine appreciation dinner at the Crescent City Bistro.
I bought a couple of bottles of wine labeled Old Fart because the label struck me as funny and it was only $9 a bottle.
Imagine then going back out to the convenience store with the adult magazines in plastic wrappers at the counter to pay for my wine. The two women at the counter were very large and has a variety of tattoos on their arms. I wanted to ask who was in charge of the wine but I wanted to more get out of there without getting my ass kicked so I left without having my curiosity satisfied.
During our drive back from FL we stopped at a rest area for food, drink, and a bathroom break. A very good looking young woman was in line a few people in front of me and didn't have enough money to pay for her food order. She needed a whopping 38 cents and all the people at the counter just glared at her for holding up the line instead of offering to pay.
I gallently offered a dollar, refused the change, and wished her and the guy and little girl with her a nice day.
I got my food and drink and while I was filling my drink cup she came to me with a dollar bill in her hand. She could see that both hands were filled so she again thanked me for the money and tucked the dollar bill into my pants pocket.
I look up to see Middle Daughter and Oldest Daughter's Friend watching this whole thing take place. They have no idea that I loaned this woman a dollar at the counter. They loudly exclaimed, "Did she just put a dollar in your pants pocket?" followed by Middle Daughter saying, "I'm can't wait to tell Mom!"
All this will I glowed with the pride that only a 40-year-old man can have when a good looking woman in her early 20s tucks money in his pants pocket.
We had a great wine tonight over Good Friend's house that was a product of Botrytis or what is sometimes called Noble Rot. This is a great webpage that gives you an idea of all that happens just right in order to produce a wine from this event. Now you know why it is $50 a bottle.
The UNH men's hockey team lost last night to Minnesota 5-1.
Son and I drove into Durham today for coffee and breakfast (listed that way because coffee is always bought at my favorite coffee shop, Breaking New Grounds followed by breakfast at Young's). I remarked that it didn't look like any rioting had happend because of the loss since downtown looked so nice.
While eating breakfast my Neighbor Out Back, who is also a Durham police officer, came into the restaurant. I talked to Officer and found out that there had been a considerable riot the night before. Officer spoke of 27 dumpster fires, a car being set on fire, having beer cans and bottles thrown at them, and a cigarette being pressed into the skin of one of the horses that is part of the mounted police unit.
A very small percentage ever get arrested and Officer expressed a great deal of frustration with that. Oficer mentioned that having the mess all cleaned up before the townies come into town for church leaves the impression that it wasn't any big deal.
Son was talking with a girl who watched the whole thing with her girlfriends and expressed outrage that some police pushed them out of their way on the way to break up a fight. How about not being at such a thing, spectator or not, and find a more productive use for your time. Save your outrage for the officers who have to go back to their families with the wounds and aches from dealing with a bunch of children in adult bodies.
I was reading the coverage about PFC Lynch's rescue. The commandos were made aware that there was a burial site nearby of other soldiers killed during the ambush. These young men didn't have shovels so they dug up the remains using their bare hands. I can't imagine the horror they'll live with because of that but they did it so that families would be able to bury their loved ones. Humanity of the best kind found in the nightmare of war.
I haven't posted anything in a while. I guess that's an indication of how busy I am with work and my family life. I am up at 6am every day and some nights don't hit the pillow until nearly midnight. I'm sure it can't be healthy for me and I've felt a bit frazzled as of late.
This continued news coverage of the war has affirmed the sheer idiocy of the press corps in my eyes. What part of putting our armed forces in danger by disclosing dates, times and methods do these people not understand?
I listened to one briefing when a woman reporter attributed a quote to Rumsfeld and he asked her to provide a source or proof. I swear to God that the woman said "I don't have it on me." Are we supposed to trust that these people are capable of reporting the facts after they find the facts if they have to resort to a middle school excuse when challenged? What next, the dog ate my video phone?