An Underdog Wedding

On Friday, we awoke in Iowa City at 4 am and by noon we found ourselves eating Los Angeles' best sushi at Sasabune on Wilshire. 

I love modern air travel.

Although it will eventually the end of our species thanks to rapidly transmitted virus (you need to go see Contagion- an awesome movie that is pretty much 100% possible), the wide availability of jet travel can get us anywhere in the world in 24 hours.  Fortunately for us, we only needed 8 hours to get from a sleepy midwestern college town in landlocked flyover country to the capitol of the Pacific Rim.  Our first stop was one of our two most-missed culinary experiences, Sushi Sasabune (the other, of course, being In N Out Burger).  Sasabune doesn't have a menu.  You get to eat whatever the chef thinks is good and whatever the fishermen have caught the day before.   The classic sign behind the sushi bar reads, "Today's Special: Trust Me".  Believe me, you can trust him.  The fish is delectable and delicate.  It literally melts in you mouth as you are consumed with ecstatic moans of delight.  I usually get a little lightheaded and buzzed eating there, even when I don't have sake- a natural sushi high.

We were in town for GoBlue!'s wedding on Santa Monica beach and many fellow poolers made the trip.  After lunch, we met up with Mouse and Geodog to walk down the California Incline to the beach.  The California Incline is a steep road that clings to the bluffs over Santa Monica, leading from California Ave (very close to Wilshire) down to the Pacific Coast Highway.  With a panoramic view of Santa Monica Bay, it is one of the most beautiful roadways in Southern California.  Sophie played in the sand with her cousins, we rehearsed the wedding, and went out to an excellent Italian dinner at Il Fornaio. 

Awakening to College Game Day, we stumbled sleepily up Wilshire to The Huckleberry Cafe, a local favorite.  It is renown for its inventive recipes using local and organic ingredients.  We enjoyed a maple bacon biscuit, fig almond tart, chocolate croissant, a scrumptious and huge breakfast burrito, and poached eggs with spinach over heirloom tomatoes and fresh snap peas.  Wow.  Here's a sample of their menu; ( http://www.huckleberrycafe.com/Huckleberry_MENU.pdf). 

Many from the wedding party marched down the 3rd Street Promenade to the local Michigan alumni bar to watch the Wolverines beat the stuffing out of their coach's old team.  We wandered through the stalls of the Santa Monica farmer's market, marveling at the quality of the produce at a time that is very late in the harvest for Iowa.  Californians can enjoy fresh peaches and strawberries when Iowa's markets have dwindled to squashes and apples (but the apples are really good!).  After the Sierra, the thing I miss the most about California is the produce.

We gathered at the beach club with the rest of the wedding party to eat In N Out, sip aged Nicaraguan rum, and watch the afternoon football games.  For the 4th year in a row, Texas A & M and Oklahoma State played an amazing, tight contest.  This is a match that will missed when the Aggies jump to the SEC next year.  Clemson pulled a mild upset of Florida State in a rivalry that has evolved far beyond the Bowden bowl it once was.  Many of us were stunned by Temple's drubbing of Maryland, proving that the  Owl's close call with Penn State was not a fluke.  5 of us saw that coming, happy to the earn the 9 points for their win.  (note: although highly controversial, I liked Maryland's flag-imitating uniforms they wore against Miami.  The brown "Turtle" outfit they chose for the Temple loss were hideous.  I am so glad USC is above such gimmicks)

The wedding began at 5pm, with guests huddled together against a brisk, cold Pacifc breeze.  I was assigned a pair of readings for the event, one from Victor Hugo's Les Miserables and one from Mark Twain.  Les Miserables happens to be one of my most favorite musicals of all time (along with Mamma Mia and Wicked), but I have never tried to read the book.  As readers of this column know, I am a big fan of Mark Twain (http://underdogcontest.blogspot.com/2008/07/coldest-winter.html).  I ever had to teach a literature course, I would definitely include his collection of short stories (along with Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, MacLean's River Runs Through It, Cather's Death Comes to the Archbishop, and Mayle's Year in Provence).  Here's the passages that were selected by the happy couple:

"You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving. The great acts of love are done by those who are habitually performing small acts of kindness. We pardon to the extent that we love. Love is knowing that even when you are alone, you will never be lonely again. And great happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved. Loved for ourselves. And even loved in spite of ourselves."- Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

"A marriage makes of two fractional lives a whole;


It gives two purposeless lives a work,

And doubles the strength of each to perform it.


It gives to two questioning natures a reason for living


And something to live for.

It will give new gladness to the sunshine,


A new fragrance to the flowers, a new beauty to the earth


And a new mystery to life."

- Mark Twain, letter to Olivia Langdon

To justice to these fine words, I read them as the authors would have: in a horribly mangled fake French accent for Hugo and a perfect Dixie gentleman for Twain.  

It was a wonderful party, with dancing, singing, smores, and champagne.  I even got to watch the USC-ASU game, to my ultimate demise.  I fell asleep after watching the horrifying 2nd half.  I tossed and turned all night with nightmares about fumbling the ball in Tempe.  When I awoke Sunday for the return trip home I hoped it had all been a champagne induced nightmare.  Unfortunately, a glance at the morning paper confirmed my horror.  Such a fabulous weekend made bitter by a awful finish.  Worst hangover ever.

Fight On,

Hans

PS: After reading an interesting article in the New York Times about paying extra for privileged economy travel (link to article "Practical Traveler"), I signed up for a new American Airlines executive Master Card.  With it, I was able to check in, check two bags without charge, and bypass the line at security at LAX.  We were at the Admiral's Club travel lounge in less than 15 minutes from drop off.  It pretty much rocked.  Try it! 

What's Really Important

Every time I take a trip with My daughter, we sit down beforehand with iTunes and select a new movie to download and watch on the plane or car ride.  Naturally, the film remains on my pad afterwards. As a result, the vast majority of my 64GB is bloated with Pixar movies, including all three "Toy Story" films. (ok, I keep them around for me as well).  For last weekend's trip to San Francisco, the mutually agreeable selection was the Disney classic Mary Poppins.  Loaded with classic songs and amusing dance routines, Mary Poppins tells the story of a nanny bringing a family together by indulging in the joys and fantasy of childhood.  By the end, the father, Mr Banks, realizes that having fun and playing with his children is more important than being respected as a banker.

Nothing reminds you of the importance of family faster than caring for an ill child.

On the way to San Francisco, Sophie developed a fever and vomiting.  Her symptoms were manageable with Motrin and fluids, but it made for a very long first night in the hotel.  She is such an amazing traveler; she insisted on going despite the symptoms, ramping up into usual play mode between temperature spikes.  As the plane landed at SFO, we discussed our options for the day.  The plan to hit the Science museum right out of the gate fell apart.  I suggested that we just go back to the hotel, cuddle in bed, eat ice cream, and watch TV (which is pretty much heaven for me).  She said she liked the idea and we headed to the hotel.  To get there, we had to walk by the cable cars going up Powell St.

Sophie saw the cable cars and it was game over.

She insisted on riding.  Despite the viral gastroenteritis, despite no caloric intake for 24 hours, and despite the  hour long line wrapping around the square, she had to ride.  Her peppy insistence provided me a glimpse into her psyche and sense of values.  Sophie inherited my wanderlust and sense of adventure.  I'm not happy traveling unless I am going somewhere and finding something new.  I am not interested in sitting on a beach with a book- I need to move, connect, and explore.  She has a toy cable car at home I brought back from last year's San Francisco adventure (see Football in Exile from 2010: http://underdogcontest.blogspot.com/2010/11/football-in-exile.html) and seeing the real thing represents the essence of this city and the goal of her journey.

We climbed aboard and chugged up Powell street.   We got a stern reprimand from the conductor for swinging on the overhead leather straps, but the fun was worth the trouble.  Suddenly, she admitted she was hungry.  This is a really good thing- she hadnt eaten anything solid for a day.  I hadn't eaten much myself- it's hard to have an appetite when you spend all night cleaning up kid vomit.  When she mentioned she wanted to eat, I suddenly realized how hungry I was.

We left the cable car in Chinatown (Sophie called it "China Land") and wandered into the first hole-in-the-wall eatery we could find, the Cafe New Honolulu.  It was a shoddy little bakery and cafe: what you might get if you took a Parisian Bistro and dropped into Hong Kong and then didn't update the decor for about a generation.  I was concerned how her sensitive stomach would react to real food, so I took things slow.  No General Tsao's chicken or spicy salt shrimp; I went for basic.  I ordered a bowl of clam chowder and some steamed  rice.  When they brought the soup, I thought I had made a mistake in coming here- it looked runny and thin. But when tasted it, I was surprised- it had a wonderful briny taste; something like fish stock with cream  The chowder also came with a bun: a hot, gooey sourdough roll that was just sinful. Sophie piled rice into spoonfuls of the the soup and made a delicious porridge.  It might just be the best clam chowder I have ever tasted.  And all because we jumped off the cable car at a random street and we were so hungry we ignored the decor.  Such is the miracle of travel!

We wandered through Union Square back to the hotel, collapsed into bed with our well deserved ice-cream and dozed as Alabama thumped Penn State and Georgia got nipped by South Carolina in a shootout.  When mom returned from her meetings, I left Sophie to enjoy some mother -daughter time and grabbed a cab across town to the Blarney Stone, the official bar of the Michigan Bay Area Alumni Club.

For all those who watched the game, you know how amazing it was.  For those of you at the Big House, you were treated to a special moment.  I can say that watching the game in a San Francisco bar packed jowl-to-jowl with blue adorned Wolverine fans must be the next-best thing.  Having visited the USC bar earlier, I was wearing cardinal.  I was a lone speck of red among a throng of blue- one lone salmon fighting against a mighty blue tide.   Pooler GoBlue! Was there, screaming and signing at the top of his lungs like the rest of the fools.  You know you're a die hard when you blow out your voice cheering for your team 3000 miles from the stadium in a bar. Here's a video of the crowd reacting to one of Michigan's late touchdowns:

The next day I drove across the bay to Berkley to have brunch at the amazing Claremont hotel- a white wooden palace perched above the Berkley campus.  In the parking lot was a classic cherry red mustang decorated with just married signs.  That's the right way to start your new life together; a send off in the sexiest car Detroit has ever made   I was there with pool founder Kurt and His wife Joyce, who have recently given birth to their first child, Declan Hercules.  (yeah, his middle name is really Hercules- that's so cool it's worth the teasing he'll get in grade school).

I drove out to the hospital to meet Declan, still in the NICU due to prematurity.  He may be young but his will is strong, just like his namesake.  Witnessing the joy and wonder of this new arrival was another reminder of the priorities in life.  The fragile being, so full of hope and potential, is worth every sacrifice.

Brought together by happenstance and our newest member, the family gathered  together for dinner. Faced with the thousands of fabulous restaurants in San Francisco, choosing one to suit the varied palates of nine attendees (including one adorable yet precocious preschooler) can be a chore.  As I walked down the street pondering this problem, I thought to myself, can't we just go to some simple steak and potato grill?  I glanced to the side, eying a dive-y antique of a restaurant called "John's Grill", and thought, like that place.  Then, actually reading the awning, I discovered I had stumbled upon a local legend and a forgotten gem.  This is the John's Grill made famous by Dashiell Hammett and his Sam Spade detective novels.  This is the restaurant mentioned and shown in the prototypical hard- boiled PI film, The Maltese Falcon.  Decorated in wood panelling and plastered with signed photos from celebrities, it even features a glass display case with the Maltese Falcon statue and a collection of signed Hammitt books.  I enjoyed their signature lamb chops with a 2008 Chateau Montelena Cabernet while sitting beneath the photo of the man himself, Humphrey Bogart.

On the last day of our trip, I had the pleasure of introducing Sophie to the Golden Gate bridge.  Her virus had been beaten and her youthful joy was in full splendor. To most people, the Golden Gate is just a really big, really orange bridge.  But to Sophie, it was a magical symbol of this city; a city that she has fallen in love with and her dad right along with her.  But sharing it with someone you love brings us all closer together.  In the end, the importance of family remained the enduring lesson.

Fight on,
Hans

Never Strikes Twice

If you don’t like the weather in Iowa, just wait a minute.

This cliché has been applied to many locales (such as Paris), but it is especially true when the Midwest is being assaulted by a line of thunderstorms.  Frequent travelers have come to dread hearing the phrase, “thunderstorms in Chicago.”  A few bolts of lightning and O’ Hare is shut down for hours, delaying flights across the country.  These rolling storms move quickly, turning a blue summer day into a hurricane and then clearing again before the gameday pancakes are cool.

We have had a weird Spring and Summer this year.  The Spring was unusually wet and cold, adding an annoying month onto Winter.  Our lawns and herb gardens relished the drenching rains, but farmers couldn’t get into their fields to plant: too muddy to plow the soil and too cold for the corn to sprout.   Then Summer came, the weather warmed dramatically, and fields got planted.  Our cold, wet May gave way to an unprecedented heat wave.  With heat indices regularly above 100, working all day in the garden became impossible and the weeds slowly consumed our crop.  But hot, humid weather is ideal for the corn’s maturation and the fields quickly made up for their slow start.  It is often said that on warm, still July nights you can actually hear the corn growing; it’s an odd squeaking, rustling sound.  Crop forecasts became insanely optimistic, predicting a record corn yield.  All we needed was a continuation of the “timely rains.”

Then, a strange thing happened: it stopped raining.

In Eastern Iowa, around Iowa City, the rain just kept missing us.  It would go to the north or the south.  Epic lines of thunderstorms rolling across the prairie would suddenly break into pieces and dissipate right over our heads.  Weird.  It just wouldn’t rain.  Western Iowa, being drenched by record flooding along the Missouri River, breathed a collective sigh of relief.  But the tomato plants stopped bearing fruit after a single crop.  Lawns grew more slowly, and then turned brown.  And the corn yields fell.

On Saturday, we were all hoping for a bit more rain; we just wanted it to start after the Hawkeyes were done with their season opener.  That’s what we call a “timely rain”. But less than hour before kickoff, the heavens opened and soaked the field, the stands, the players, and the fans.  The game went ahead as scheduled, the doppler images promising clearing skies by halftime.  Conditions improved but the in-stadium souvenir stands sold out of dry shirts.   

Suddenly, in the middle of the third quarter, a random stroke of lightning erupted a few miles to the west of stadium.  The game officials, following the NCAA lightning safety manual (http://www.lightningsafety.com/nlsi_pls/Sports_Medicine_Handbook_lightning.pdf) to the letter, declared a 30 minute hiatus of the game.  The Doppler image was impressive: a “pop-up” thunderstorm of legendary proportions had suddenly appeared from nowhere.  We knew it was about to rain and rain hard.  For nearly an hour the pent-up frustrations of a summer drought were unleashed onto Kinnick Stadium.  It was raining so hard it was literally painful.  All but a few hundred loyal die-hards headed for the exit.  At the time of the suspension, Iowa was leading 34-0 over a FCS school, Tennessee Tech.  When a game is interrupted by weather, school officials have four options:

1) Postpone the game and resume play at a mutually arranged later date

2) Consider it a “no contest” and enter it in the books as never happened

3) Count it as a forfeiture by the home team

4) Stop play and count the game as complete with the current score

In most cases, option #1 is not desirable; scheduling another game is just too messy.  I am sure that the folks in South Bend would prefer to choose option 2 for their game against South Florida, but that didn’t make any sense for Iowa.  I’m not sure when option #3 would ever occur.  I had assumed, due the lopsided score and relative non-importance of the game, the officials would favor option #4.  This was in fact the decision in Ann Arbor, where the game between Michigan and Western Michigan was called due to lightning with Michigan ahead. 

Despite the torrent, the parties involved “wanted to get the game in” and waited 90 minutes for the storm to pass.  The players emerged onto the field to play before a nearly empty stadium.  The remaining time passed quickly and Tennessee Tech managed to score a touchdown for their efforts. 

Weather played havoc with other games across the region that day.  Michigan- Western Michigan was called early due to weather, as I mentioned.  South Florida was leading Notre Dame at halftime, when the stadium was evacuated due to lightning.  Play resumed 2.5 hours later, but was stopped again.  The Domers had narrowed the gap in the score; cancelling was not an option.  Play resumed and the game finally, mercifully ended at 8:00 pm local time after starting around 2.  Poolers following the Marshall – West Virginia game (the last opportunity to knock Gran off her week 1 win) had endure another similar lengthy delay.

At least in LA, where the Trojans played one great half and one miserable half against Minnesota, the weather was perfect.

Fight On,

Hans

Opulence and Indulgence

Moments before boarding my plane to Las Vegas Friday I texted my two step-brothers the enduring quote from Swingers that reflects the anticipatory thrill of an impending Vegas adventure: “Vegas, baby, Vegas!”  Dutifully, they responded independently with another Swingers classic, “You are so money, Mikey!”  Ironically, on the long drive to Vegas the characters repeat the Vegas Baby Vegas line in an exhausted daze.  This rapid fade of enthusiasm as the physical demands of the city are faced provide a useful foreshadowing to our weekend. 

Kristi and I boarded the plane, ready for a split weekend: half as a romantic get-away and half as the bachelor party for step –brother Steve (GoBlue!).  On the plane I watched the new Vegas classic, The Hangover, which was considerably funnier the second time, especially en route for a bachelor party!  We arrived to oppressive heat rushing us inside to settle into our rooms (after a quick stop at In n’ Out, of course!).  I had a room at the Aria, one of the hotels in the new City Center Complex.  City Center was an audacious and poorly-timed real estate venture that opened in late 2008 – yeah, that 2008.  It was partially funded by Dubai World, the investment company for the Dubai Government that defaulted on its debt and sought restructuring in late 2009 because of . . . wait for it . . . over-building of ambitious real estate projects!

Three years later, City Center is almost completely open (notable exception: a condominium tower that still sits empty and now slated for demolition, having never hosted a single tenant) and the hotels and shopping are doing quite well.  Financial disasters aside, the architects and engineers involved managed to create one of the most stunning works of modern urban architecture the world has ever seen.  The look is sleek, futuristic, and organic.  Although the complex’s expanse widely outstripped the need when it opening, a nod has been given toward sustainable construction; most of the buildings there are gold LEED certified.  I was most interested in its reputation for public art, one of the most valuable collections anywhere (and most of it on 24 hour permanent display).

The art did not disappoint.  My favorite piece is a set of swirling water vortexes in the shopping plaza, Crystals.  The installation consists of a dozen plexiglass tubes that intermittently fill with water and a whirlpool, giving the impression of a small army of tornadoes rising from the floor.  We also discovered that the Aria creates work of art daily in their restaurants.  Dinner Friday night was at Sage, an American-nouveau cuisine restaurant by Chef Shawn McClain.  We enjoyed a tasting menu that included heirloom tomatoes, oysters, pork belly, scallops, and a peanut butter chocolate torte.  You can see the menu here: http://www.arialasvegas.com/files/dining/Sage-Signature-79.pdf.  They paired my dishes with Belgian beer, including draught selections of Duvel and Chimay.  I can safely say it was one of the 5 best meals of my entire life.  Pure epicurean Heaven. 

Dinner was followed by taking in Ka at the MGM, one of the seven permanent Cirque-du-Soleil shows in Las Vegas (do you remember when Cirque-du-Soleil was a little-known avante garde touring troupe from Montreal pitching a tent on Santa Monica beach?  Times have changed . . .)  Ka was outstanding, possibly as good as “O”, their water-themed show at Bellagio and the standard by which all Cirque shows should be measured.  A unique twist for Ka (aside from the stunning rotating stage that floats and is capable of 360˚ rotations) is that it actually has a recognizable plot, a rarity among Cirque productions. 

Late Friday, I was able to join 5 other underdog poolers at Marquee, the latest nightclub to be saddled with the “hottest club in Vegas” tag.  Judging by the hordes of twentysomethings in club wear gathered outside the velvet ropes, the Millennials have swallowed the hype.  We were escorted to a reserved cabana on the outdoor pool level of the club, provided bottle service with magnums of Grey Goose, and were encouraged to mingle and flirt with dozens of bachelorette parties.   I realize I am not the designated generational target audience for this experience, but I find it difficult to make small talk and meet new people while extended House redux mixes of REM, New Order, and Journey (yes, Journey- you read that correctly) are piped into my ears at a brain-melting 100 dB. 

Saturday began late, as it often does in Las Vegas.  We had a nice lunch at a Tapas restaurant with a friend from Medical School, then wandered off to the tables to pass the time.  Normally, I would curl up in a corner of the sports book with a  bucket of beers, but the football season had not yet started.  That didn’t stop ESPN from broadcasting football, however.  The geniuses in Bristol think it’s really cool to use the weekend before college football to show dozens of high school games.  Let’s think about this: high school football.  Played in Texas.  In August.  Now most of the time I am just a dumb ER doc.  But to be completely fair I am an expert in a couple of things: X-men comic books, James Bond movies, and heat-related illnesses.  Broadcasting high school football on national television in August is horribly irresponsible.  Every year, football players get into trouble with heat.  Although all athletes (from baseball players to RAGBRAI riders) are vulnerable to heat illness, football players are especially so because of several factors.  1) They wear 30 pounds of armor and cover their entire head with a heat-trapping dome.  2) The nature of the sport breeds a counter-adaptive machismo to push yourselves harder to not be “wussy” and drink water.  3) Football practice starts in August and the players experience the peak of environmental heat before they have acclimatized.  After exerting oneself in a hot environment for 2 weeks, the body is capable of undergoing physiologic changes to cope with the temperature easier.  Many football players enter full-contact practice before acclimatization.  The deaths that occur annually in football players occur in August.  And they usually occur in high school players.  By broadcasting these games, ESPN has created a perverse incentive toward playing and practicing in unsafe environments. 

This sport was meant to be played in the Autumn, when the air is crisp and the leaves are gold. 

The season is finally here poolers!

Fight On,

Hans

My Favorite Things

“When the dog bites

When the bee stings

When I’m feeling sad

I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feel

So bad . .  .”

Rogers and Hammerstein, Sound of Music

When the weather is unbearable, when I’ve been working so many so many shifts I can’t remember the last time I ate a meal sitting down, and when the extent of conversations with my wife are emails, it helps me to remember my favorite things.  Naturally, my first most favorite things are the people I love and live with: Kristi, Sophie, and my two wonderful dogs.  But I must admit to a few material items I really can’t live without. 

What make something special?  What is it about an item that imparts value?

Both the form and the function.  If a chair is mind-blowing comfy, but looks like crap (ie Frasier’s dad’s recliner), you wouldn’t want it in your house.  The Cuisinart is a beautiful device that is helpful for certain recipes, but it is so cumbersome to use and such a pain to clean I refer to it as the “infernal device”.   A perfect tool not only does it job, but it looks like a work of art while doing it.

After reflecting on this for some time, I came up with short list of possessions that make me truly happy.   When I’ve had enough of this busy academic medicine life and run off to the Caribbean to run a combination acute care clinic and rum bar, these are the first objects that going in the bag:

1) Whiskey stones: Milled in Vermont from non-pourous soapstone, this dandy little cubes sit in my freezer until they are called upon to chill yet not dilute my whisky (or rum or bourbon . . .).  Enjoy a wee dram of the Highland’s finest with these and you are truly having a “scotch on the rocks!”

2) Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien, the Collector’s Edition published by Houghton Mifflin: Put simply, this is the greatest printing ever of the greatest book ever.  Tolkien’s masterpiece established an archetype for fantasy; it is the first time that elves, men, dwarves, halflings, and orcs are put together in the same world.  It literally created a genre.  There couldn’t have been Dungeons & Dragons or World of Warcraft without it.  Besides that, it is 1216 pages of pure epic poetry.  Invent a multiracial fantasy world for the first time with its own mythology?  Sure, no problem.  Invent not one but two unique languages with their own alphabets and syntax (elvish script and dwarven runes)?  OK, it took a little effort, but that’s just for flavor text.  But do all that AND compose the entire story into a melodic rhythm that echoes hauntingly off each page?  Genius. 

3) Shun Chef Knife:  About 700 years ago, the Japanese figured out a way to make really, really strong steel.  Instead of simply pounding the metal into the proper shape, the metal is folded and hammered out.  Then folded again.  And again.  According to legend, this was done 200 times by the greatest sword smiths of the feudal age (think Hattori Hanzo from Kill Bill).  This knife is made the same way.  Yes, that’s right- I have a kitchen knife worthy of being held by a samurai warrior.  A little bit of bushido for the chopping block.  Hell yeah!  Ok- in reality, the knife is not made in same way as samurai swords, but it is similar and the thought counts.  This knife is so sharp I owned it for exactly 5 minutes before cutting myself with it.  This knife makes any recipe an adventure!

4) Specialized Allez Model Road Bicycle: This isn’t exactly Lance Armstrong quality here.  When I bought it, I asked the bike store for an “entry level road bike”.  Although expensive, it was on the low end of what road bikes can cost.  That doesn’t matter.  The important thing is that it represents my first real road bike.  For the last 10 years I had been riding a mountain bike.  Before that, in college and med school, I had used roller blades to get around.  Therefore, this is my first road bike since I rode a 10 speed Schwinn to high school.  I discovered that bike technology has advanced quite a bit in 20 years!  I am constantly amazed by this machine’s efficiency: it is light as a feather and it carries me along like I am flying.  It almost make climbing hills fun.  Almost.  I am definitely happier on days I get to ride my bike to work.

5) The Pathfinder Game Core Rulebook by Paizo Publishing, 1^st Printing, Signed by the authors:  This one may need a bit of explaining. But it’s an explanation you don’t really want to know.  You may not think this is cool and that’s OK- this is my list of favorite things.  Go make your own.  Let’s just keep it simple: I have played Dungeons & Dragons for most of my life; I first picked up the game in its really early days, around 1980.  The game has gone through many changes over the years and now the trend is to change the rule structure about every 5 years, forcing fans to buy all new books.  Paizo, an independent publisher and having no copyrights to the D & D name, said, “Enough!” and created their own game based on the third iteration of the D & D rules.  The cool thing is that they created a beautiful book with amazing art that is really fun to read.  And the weird thing is that their crazy plan actually worked.  The veteran players all dumped brand name D & D like a bad habit and we are all playing Pathfinder now.  As of last year, Pathfinder has more players than D & D.  So there, evil publishing empire.  Way to stick it to the man.  Oh, and I have the first printing of the book that sold out in a few days.  And I have it signed by the creators.  I rock. 

6) Olive Wood Risotto Spatula:   I picked up this baby in a Hill town in Tuscany on our family vacation there in 2008.  This photo is the whole family enjoying an afternoon break in the hil town of Valpaia (that's young Sophie sitting on Kristi's lap).  Valpaia is a "factory town" where everyone works for the local Chianti winery.  Every evening that week we cooked together in the villa and drank an entire case of local wine (not Sophie).  Now, picking up my Italian spatula, I am transported back to that amazing week.  The texture and warmth of the wood is comforting - rustic and elegant at the same time.  Besides the nostalgia, I simply prefer to use a wooden spatula.  There may be more advanced tools in the kitchen, but I am solidly old-tech on this one.  It just turns the food exactly the way I want it!

7) Apple iPad and custom case: Anything I write to describe the coolness factor of the iPad is a superlative.  The sheer technological sexiness of this device is widely accepted and unquestioned.  Steve Jobs can rest easily in the knowledge that he changed computing forever.  Now that the web has matured into a part of daily life, Apple has made a friendly little window to put anywhere and peer into the cyber-universe that lies mere electrons beyond our touch.  You know those moments in sci-fi movies when the characters are handed an electronic pad to read a report?  Yeah- we do that now.  The future is here.  To take it just one step further, I commissioned a lady at the local farmer’s market to design and make a custom case for me, decorated with an antique street map of Paris.  Once people saw it, they wanted one too.  Now she can’t keep any iPad case in stock.  Order yours today!

These items make for a very pleasant afternoon of riding, reading, cooking, drinking, and watching movies.  To this list I should add one more favorite thing: College Football.  The underdog pool is only two weeks away.  Get ready, Dogs!

Fight On,

Hans