Scott Desgrosseilliers

Airplane Manners - An Open Letter

Dear Airplane Traveler sitting at the end of my aisle,

I realize we did not introduce ourselves before the flight. I was talking to my loved ones and listening to my iPod. I am truly sorry if that offended you. However, I don't feel like that warranted your actions.

For starters, your gas is really, really noxious. Perhaps you think that since you did not make a noise when farting, it does not smell. Let me inform you that the expressions "Silent but Violent" and "Silent but Deadly" can be directly attributed to the the gas that is seeping out of you. In fact, if the expressions did not already exist, I am confident I would've been inspired to create them if I do not perish from your stench.

I'd like to recommend that you see a doctor about sleep apnea. I am not a doctor, but there has to be an explanation for that jackhammer noise coming from your nostrils while you snore in my face. If the sleep apnea mask is too much, maybe a breathe right strip across your shnoz?

Since we didn't meet pre-flight, I certainly don't expect you to know my bladder patterns. However, I would be willing to bet that anyone ordering double vodka tonics is going to need to use the restroom at least once in 3 hours. Call it a hunch.

I appreciate you taking these points into consideration on your next flight. And accept my apologies. I did not have anything in my throat. I was just clearing it repeatedly in hopes you would hear my throat clearings over your jackhammer snores and seeping gas, and then wake up, so I could use the bathroom.

Yours,
Scott

Napa Winery Tour

Our Napa wine tour came together in one hours notice. Trip planning needs to have some scheduled spontaneous time so that you can act on inspiration. I realize that scheduled spontaneous time is a play on words, but I don’t mean it that way. We purposely had nothing scheduled for our first two days in San Francisco other than the general idea to explore a little. The night before our flight, inspiration hit as we discussed how someday we should take a tour of the vineyards. The conversation quickly escalated to “Well damn it, let’s do it tomorrow!” followed by a call to the hotel concierge and the plan that we would be picked up at the airport by a driver and taken straight to the vineyards.

It still hadn’t hit me until we were 20,000 feet up. Napa wineries with our own driver bringing us from winery to winery, giddy up! Our man picked us up right on time and whipped out a map of the California wineries…there were many to pick from. We decided to pick two places that we knew of, and leave a couple up to aimless wanderings.

The drive took us just over an hour from the airport. The first stop was Sattui Winery, the driver’s choice. We walked in and I was slightly taken aback by the small mobs of people. Not the best first impression, tell me I’m not trapped on an upscale version of a sight-seeing tour! There is a wrap around bar at Sattui and there were about 50 people in various stages of their wine tasting. It was Monday, don’t these people have jobs?? We impatiently stalked out numerous spots and then charged forward at the first sign of opening. The short wait was worth it, the Sattui wines were all pretty decent. One in particular stood out, Sattui Napa Gamay, a light red table wine that begged to be drank all summer long on a deck. I quickly scratched off an order form. “Let’s get a couple cases!” the over enthusiastic Fiance said. I managed to get out of there with a 4 bottle order.

Now that we were warmed up, we hit the anticipated highlight of the tour, Rombauer Vineyard. Rombauer is theFiance’s favorite chardonnay after we randomly ordered it one evening for dinner. The drive up to the vineyard and the view from the vineyard were gorgeous. An old dog greeted us when we opened the door and boldly tried to eat anything he could get his chops on before we shooed him away. The tasting room was small but only about 10 people were inside. We moved in between 2 older couples of old gray-haired dudes and fake-boobed ladies, and a younger couple. The younger couple poured back a few of their wines. This is Rombauer wine – you don’t pour back Rombauer wine unless you are an idiot. I thought maybe they were trying to look like wine snobs, but instead they looked like wine fools. I couldn’t help myself, I asked the guy how he could do such a thing, he just said he didn’t like it. Give that dude a box of Riunite and stop wasting the good stuff please.

While there was no reason to toss the Rombauer out, it was not phenomenal or jaw-dropping by any means. We had a great time trying out a bunch of the wines and got some nice wine glasses as souvenirs, but didn’t order any wine. This was a shocking turn of events.

Frank family was the third vineyard we chose to visit. It was theFiance’s #2 chardonnay although I was not a big fan of it. I have always felt Meridian was better tasting and 1/3rd the cost. The first station was champagne. The guy poured, we drank, he poured some more, we drank some more, this was my idea of a wine tour. We went through 3 or 4 champagnes, they were all spectacular. There was also an explanation on how some vineyards have to call their wines “sparkling white wine” vs. “champagne” but Frank Family could keep calling theirs “champagne”. However, the “champagne” was hitting me pretty good so I can’t remember the specifics.

What I can remember is that the next room had the Frank Family zinfandel. My first experience with wine was sneaking pulls off my mother’s white zinfandel and wondering why people would drink wine. Zinfandel is a red wine, and Frank Family zinfandel is so tasty the wine guide called LPR. LPR stood for a number of things in his household, including “liquid panty remover”. As the wine entered my mouth after his explanation, and the flavors took hold, I was only thinking “Can I get more of this please?” and “I hope LPR lives up to its name after this tour”. Now that I am engaged I can’t tell you the answer, but let’s just say I got more pours of the wine and I am grinning ear to ear right now.

The Frank Family chardonnay was served at almost room temperature. I was always under the impression that you chill white wine and serve red wine at room temp. I was wrong. The chardonnay was very, very good. I don’t have all those hoighty-toighty wine descriptions down – It started out light and slightly fruity, and then had a modest buttery finish that left me opening my mouth for another gulp.

After buying 2-6 bottles of Frank Family it was off to our final winery, Flora Springs. We pulled up and it was 415pm – Uhoh, the winery was closed. The door was still open so we scrambled in to see if we could still get a quick tasting in. Greg the manager was kind enough to let us come in. This would prove to be great fortune for both us and Greg’s sales quota.

Neither of us had heard of Flora Springs before because they don’t have broad distribution for some reason. Greg poured us the first wine, it was a sauvignon blanc, and it was the best white wine I had drank. Sauvignon Blanc is drier than chardonnay, but I usually have drank crappy low-quality versions apparently. This stuff made my eyes water and I exclaimed “Jesus Christ this is good!” and then apologized in case he was offended. In my view of the world when you exclaim Jesus Christ over a good thing, then why is it a bad thing, you are associating Jesus with something that is giving you joy – But I digress, back to the wine.

After a full glass of sauvignon, Greg brought out the chardonnay…again served almost at room temperature. I took a sip and my eyes watered, it was that tasty. TheFiance’s eyes got wide as she drank, I thought she was “in the wrapper” as they say, but she just literally could not believe her own tastebuds. (I just erased my repeated attempts to describe what simply has to be tasted. ) The chardonnay was the best wine I have ever drank in my life.

At least it was the best wine I had ever drank until Greg poured the last wine of the day, Trilogy, Flora Spring’s cabernet blend of some kind. One mouthful and my eyes watered from how good it tasted, and I once again blurted out “Jesus Christ!”, and once again apologized. Greg was laughing at this point, theFiance was debating how we could afford multiple cases, and I was drunk. We scribbled down an order way too big for our wine rack, thanked Greg profusely, and stumbled outside to take this picture before enjoying our ride back to San Francisco.

I’m not good with waiting to do things. Sometimes that gets me into trouble. But choosing to go on a private Napa Wine tour, rather than waiting until next time, gave us the highlight of our trip to San Francisco and a lifelong memory.

Alcatraz

Alcatraz closed down as a prison back in the 1960s. I don’t think the government should’ve publicized that fact. Even in its old and decayed state, Alcatraz still is a strong deterrent to starting a life of crime. I bet that giving Oakland and San Francisco school kids a tour of Alcatraz would force juvenile crime rates to plummet.

A chilly breeze and the unmistakable odor of urine greet you when disembarking onto Alcatraz. But don’t be discouraged by this initial first impression, grit your teeth and hike up to the top where the prison cells are. When you get to the top the views are gorgeous and the wind has cleared any malodorous airs. It must’ve added insult to injury for the prisoners to see the amazing bay view of San Francisco from behind prison walls.

We chose to take the prison cell audio tour. It was hyped as award-winning. I have a lifelong aversion to tours of any kind. I feel a guided tour is a quasi-voluntary passive kidnapping. However, the Alcatraz audio tour was fascinating. A collection of prisoners and guards told the story of the jail along with guiding you along its layout. I literally would be told “Take a few steps forward until you are in front of jail cell 401” or “Walk slowly along the left-side of the corridor until you reach the sign called ‘Prison Escape’”. The pacing of the tour kept the many tour participants from getting bunched up and herded along like a bunch of cattle – A chief complaint I have of tours.

The cells at Alcatraz are 5 feet by 8 feet. There is a small toilet, a sink, and a bed, with room for shelves. How awful. If the jailbirds acted up, they got thrown in an even worse version of a cell, called cellblock D. Cellblock D featured a hole in the ground for a toilet, and it was pitch-black with no bars, just 4 walls. TheFiance wouldn’t even dare to stand inside this it was so horrid. One prisoner on the audio tour describes passing time in Cellblock D by dropping a coin in the darkness, finding it, and repeating, over and over. I think I’d rather obey the laws even if I don’t agree with all of them.

There is one famous escape story from Alcatraz that was made into a movie. A group of prisoners managed to escape. 3 guys chiseled out the concrete along the vent. Then they climbed up the pipes and got on the roof and scaled over the barbed wire fences. To conquer the bay they used life jackets that they blew up into makeshift rafts. One of Alcatraz’s many security measures was bed checks every 90 minutes. However the escapees made heads out of paper mache and even glued hair onto them, so they looked asleep in their cells. The morning after their escape the bay was scoured but the prisoners were never found.

Alcatraz has many other stories you can hear on the audio tour. Prison life was interesting to learn about. You are grateful at the end of your trip that you are not a prisoner and can leave the island and return home. Any trip to San Francisco should include a day trip out to Alcatraz.

Montezuma's Revenge 1, Scott 0

I wrote this as a reader service about when to go see a doctor after an overseas trip. I am currently battling Montezuma's Revenge.  Montezuma's Revenge is the term used to define when a tourist contracts a stomach parasite while visiting an overseas country.

I’ve heard stories about the water in Mexico, who hasn’t?  It seems pretty simple to drink bottled water only.  I’ve been fortunate to travel all over the world and I don’t drink the water anywhere else, and there has been nothing else to worry about.  Eating live sushi that still wiggled at the table in Hong Kong, whole shrimp from roadside stands in Thailand, gross and bland England fish and chips, and all you can eat steak feasts in Brazil, my stomach took it all.  So I go down to Mexico not worrying about a thing and come back with Montezuma's Revenge.

My trip was the best I have ever had, but I wish my reminders of it were in my head, not my stomach and butt.  I first realized something was up while still in Mexico.  Every 8 hours there was an “interesting” formation in the toilet.  But I figured it would pass when I got back to the states.

What happened back in the states was worse.  After most meals, I began to carry around what appeared to be a small baby in my stomach.  I am so glad I am not a woman!  My stomach would slowly expand until it looked like there was a bowling ball in it. Sometimes I would merely have a bowling ball belly for 3-4 hours, and then suddenly be starving.  Other times the bowling ball baby would want to be born prematurely, and I would make 8 to 20 trips to the bathroom until I “gave birth to a small brown pygmy”.

This too would pass.  And once again, it got worse.  I started to experience the following daily pattern.  Wake up feeling nauseous and not eat until 2-3pm.  Get hungry and finally give in and eat, receive massive headache, then fever.  Spend a few hours in the fetal position on my chaise lounge.  Take a bunch of ibuprofen.  Pray for a bowel movement that never comes.  Eventually get hungry again.  Fear this.  Think it must’ve finally passed. Eat and drink some wine.  Bowling ball baby appears.  Run to bathroom over and over.  Return brokenhearted and dismayed that I could not give birth to my bowling ball baby.

Heaven forbid if I drank.  The few times I had some beverages of the adult variety, I spent the next day in bed or on the couch, unable to think of much, stand up much, or eat at all.  I finally went to the doctor who put me on two antibiotics that should incinerate all bacteria in my stomach by this weekend’s trip to the Keys.

When you return from a foreign country, watch your stomach reaction after eating.  If you find you look like you will give birth after each meal, get checked for Montezuma's Revenge.

Mirage VIP Super Bowl Party

I wake up with frayed nerves from 3 nights and days and nights of Vegas.  The oxygen pumped into the casinos kept you up all night when you arrived.  The flashing lights of the slots, clink of chips, and screams of agony and ecstasy at the craps kept you up through the days.  Red bull and vodka made sure you were at a perpetual mild jitter.  Gorging on the buffet gives you occasional meat sweats.  All  I want to do is sleep the day away.  But wait, it’s the Super Bowl in Vegas.  VIP party at Mirage!  My spirits begin to lift…

The day beings with gambling line analysis over brunch.  Multiple sports book proposition bet booklets lay strewn across the room.  I grab one and begin doing “astute analysis” on bets that have no rhyme or reason.  Of course Gostkowski will have more points than Kobe Bryant will have 3-pointers, that’s a LOCK!  I begin to feel better.  Everyone agrees that Eli Manning will go down as the worst quarterback in Super Bowl history.  I start thinking on ways to capitalize this, before I smartly realize that I am over-thinking things.  Just bet on the Patriots and win some easy money!  I cannot believe how much my gambling experience and maturity is going to pay off this year.  I try not to get too greedy, but it is such an easy bet, I decide a big bet on the Pats will lift me out of most of my losses on the weekend, sweet!

I put on my admission bracelet.  The adrenaline starts to pump as we walk through the Mirage to the back convention hall where the VIP party is hosted.  I feel like I am walking through the Super Bowl tunnel out onto the field. Everyone is yakking about the game with strangers in nervous excitement.  Even though there is seating for 1000 people, there is a long line before the doors open.  The clock strikes 2pm and the doors open, it is as though the gates have opened for the Kentucky Derby and we are horses, because it is a sprint for the tables.  The tables are first come first serve and the location of your table can make or break the event.  Tommy from our group sprints into the lead and snares a key table spot.  On a corner, and an aisle, with enough distance from all of the massive projection TV screens that we do not have to crane our necks in any direction in order to have a full 100” screen view of the game. 

A waiter greets us and takes multiple drink, beer bucket, and shot orders.  The Mirage Super Bowl Party is open bar, full waitstaff, cheerleaders everywhere.  There are so many bars and waiters it is impossible not to be double-fisting drinks.  8 long food buffets are setup with choice chow and no wait times.  Foosball, pool, ping pong, and air hockey tables are nearby to kill time before kickoff, not to mention numerous betting windows.  It is the perfect setup for watching the Super Bowl.  But its not the setup that makes the Mirage Super Bowl Party the ultimate place to watch the game.

Picture your favorite experiences at sold out movie theatres for comedy or horror shows.  The surround sound and large screen makes you feel like you are in the situation with the movie characters.  The audience is laughing or screaming together at the same time.  You find that your reaction to the audience, which you were a part of, causes an additional laugh.  At the Mirage VIP Super Bowl Party, there are 1,000 degenerate gamblers in the same room.  They are eating and drinking at a vicious pace.  So much money is on the game that the gambling windows inside the room have windows just for $1,000 minimum bettors.  Everyone in the place has completely overdid their partying.  Who can still party 4 days in a row in their 30s, 40s, and 50s?  The frayed, gnawed hysteria of high stakes betting done by people who need to win money and are still partying wayyyy past their bedtimes makes for a frenetic rippling buzz in the room.  Emotions are exaggerated with numerous screams and cheers each play.  There are bets on the coin toss, the first score, the last score, almost every play has ungodly amounts of money on it.  I know I exchanged tense moments while we waited for confirmation that the first punt went less than 43 yards, and then jumped in the air and hugged people when it was confirmed to be less than 43 yards, the table had just won $200!  Take the best movie at a sold out theatre, multiply that by 10, and you have the Mirage VIP Super Bowl Party.

Swimming with Dolphins

It was always on my life list to swim with dolphins.  I really wasn’t sure why, I just knew that I wanted to check the experience out. While in Playa del Carmen Mexico the opportunity arose to spend an hour in a pool with dolphins.  I was not disappointed.

Swimming with dolphins was on my life list.  I had visions of being boated out into the middle of the ocean, where a posse of friendly dolphins were hanging out, waiting for people to jump overboard to hang out with.  This couldn’t be further from the truth.  We had our swimming with dolphin experience at Delphinius, a highly organized and controlled environment.  The dolphins at Delphinius are trained to the point they act like a more intelligent version of a dog.  Anything “wild” that occurred was merely a well-orchestrated trained maneuver.  This did not diminish the experience, but it was worth noting that we were in a dolphin zoo of some kind.

My first interaction occurred with 2 dolphins.  I laid out in the pool while they swam up under my feet and propped me up in the air.  I was then pushed along the water’s surface across the length of the pool.  Their noses felt like the ends of a hockey sticks with a lot of tape on them that was then smoothed down, if that makes any sense.  Near the end of the pool the dolphins simply dove down and I belly-flopped into the water.   Each person in our group of four received the dolphin push across the water, and then we moved to a different part of the pool for the rest of our activities.

The four of us spread out in the water and our dolphin kept roaming around between us.  Female dolphins appear to share a characteristic with their fellow female humans – they like a LOT of attention.  The dolphin would continually swim around us so we could pet it.  The skin of the dolphin felt like an inner tube.  The flexibility and control the dolphin had over its body was impressive.  She would pass by all of us, contort her body and suddenly be headed right back towards us on her back so she could get a belly rub…like most dogs would prefer.  The dolphin was also very talkative.  Their voices will not win any awards however, the dolphin voice is a shrill muted scream.  It sounds like a cross between a seagull getting a rock thrown at it with the cadence and irritating factor of squeaky bed rails thrown in for good measure.  The dolphin liked to chatter in this sound, and then splash us repeatedly, she was having a lot of fun at our expense.

There were a few other tricks with multiple dolphins jumping over us.  The dolphins were smart enough to not only jump out and over us by fifteen to twenty feet, but they all held different poses for the camera at the height of their jump.   I can’t imagine how the trainers figured out to teach them to arch their backs differently based on their position in the jump. 

If you like affectionate dogs and the ocean water, you will love swimming with dolphins.  The playful nature and great sense of humor that our dolphin had made it a memorable experience.

OTI - Optical Tequila Illusion

Spending a week at an all-inclusive resort caused me to notice a previously unobserved phenomenon – the Optical Tequila Illusion.  The Optical Tequila Illusion, or OTI if you will, is the condition that occurs when you have been drinking tequila at a moderate pace for the entire day without a break of any kind.  No water, no coffee, and no activities that can break your tequila rhythm.  A happy and content haze comes over you, mild but comforting, that causes you to notice things that you didn’t recognize previously.  OTI is perhaps best understood with some examples:

“That guy by the pool appears to have a Nacho Libre wrestling mask on while putting an innocent bystander into a headlock.” While at the pool one day a guy appeared wearing a wrestling mask he had picked up in town.  He was also riding the tequila train.  He walked around the pool putting people in headlocks and getting his picture taken, screaming “I love tequila”.  This was not an illusion, but actually happened, because I have a picture with myself headlocked.

“Every table in this restaurant appears to be a treehouse.”  After a comfortable day sipping tequila by the pool (this was every day all week), we went into downtown Playa Del Carmen.  Our wanderings led us to a restaurant called Playasia, which was a sushi joint that was built around a colossal tree.  You would sit in these mammoth treehouses covered in Christmas lights.  I have a receipt from Playasia, so this was not an OTI but did indeed occur.

“That half-rat half-hamster just took a pull off my margarita.”  This was an illusion, although there were several huge half-rat things that waddled around the pool without a care.

“I have somehow got a tan.”  I cannot determine if this actually happened or not.  I have spent my entire life pale.  Any tanning attempts have been met with crisped skin that goes from pale red to itching to peeling to white.  This trip was dedicated to being in the sun at all times.  I may have achieved a slight hue of pink.

“The angry mega-tan guy just berated someone for smoking because it was bad for his health.”  There was a guy who setup at 9am by the pool each day and took a personal baby oil bath.  You could see him glisten as you approached the pool after breakfast.  He is doing his best to catch skin cancer.  However, if anyone dared to put out a pack of cigarettes near him, he would fly off the handle about smoking next to him.  I figured this was an illusion because he would get belligerent at an all-inclusive while everyone else was having the time of their lives.  It wasn’t.

“I seem to recall something about this thing called a cell phone.”  I turned my cell phone on once during the trip.  I had a number of anxious texts from Mark about the cable being out.  Relaxing by the pool after many margaritas, Mark’s cable situation could not be more hilarious.  I spent 5 minutes texting instructions to him and then turned my phone off.  I didn’t turn it on again until I was at the airport going home.  Keeping the cell phone off contributed to the happiness of the week.

When winter brings its miserable chill, it is best to escape out of town as often as possible.  Warm comforting hazes can do wonders.  A great diversion is to generate an OTI for yourself. 

Advice for Adults Visiting a Disney Park

I just returned from a trip to Orlando that included stops at Epcot and Disney’s Magic Kingdom.  I have a few tips and insights for adults making the trek down.  Don’t bring kids that need strollers.  Hit the popular rides first thing in the morning.  Use the FastTrack religiously and strategically.  And drink heavily at Epcot’s world showcase.  Let me explain these in order.

Bringing an infant to a Disney park is no different than bringing your favorite pet rock to the park.  Actually, the pet rock would make it easier on the parents, because it wouldn’t cry, crap, or want to suck on mommy’s boob while a bunch of onlooker teenagers gawk at you.  Plus its easier to carry.  The invasion of strollers at Epcot and Magic Kingdom is out of hand.  Perhaps the parents are a little over eager or excited to bring the Disney magic to their kids.  I’m telling you right now, my kids have to be able to walk around the park on their own two feet all day or we aren’t going.  The idea that a baby is going to have any idea that it is Goofy or Mickey Mouse waving at it, while the baby is just sitting there drooling and tripping out, is ridiculous.  So I felt no guilt about speeding past the parents so I could get on Space Mountain faster than they could.  If your child can’t walk for the day save yourself $5000 and rent Disney home videos.

When you are an adult going to Disney’s Magic Kingdom, there is the Space Mountain pitch-black roller coaster ride and then there are all other rides that pale in comparison.  It is far and away the most exciting and thrilling ride at Magic Kingdom.  Do yourself a favor and get to the park before 10 am and sprint immediately to Space Mountain.  We were able to get on the ride immediately, I almost didn’t break stride through the line until I reached my roller coaster seat.  At Epcot head straight for the Soaring attraction.  It attempts to simulate hang-gliding.  I went hang-gliding in Rio de Janeiro and was excited for this simulation.  It does not simulate hang-gliding very well, but it is still a really cool ride that has you soaring over a number of cool vistas.  I suppose it did not simulate my hang-gliding experience because there was actually more safety precautions at Disney than Rio.  In Rio my guide gave me a photo album of past hang-gliders to thumb through while we drove past cops with AK-47s due to drug rioting.  I digress but going early and directly to the best attractions allows you to avoid painful wait times.

Everyone hates lines.  I remember learning in school that people in Russia waited all day in lines to get bread.  Apparently waiting in line was a way of life.  I would’ve left town immediately, what is more awful than waiting all day for bread?  Now, this might’ve just been Reagan propaganda on how bad the USSR was, but regardless, I hate to wait in lines.  For people that share this pain, Disney parks have something called FastTrack. FastTrack allows you to insert your ticket and get an assigned time that you can skip the line for a particular ride.  This was a godsend on the log flume ride at the Magic Kingdom.  We literally passed 3-500 people and got to get on the log flume after only 3-4 minutes.  I cannot imagine how long some of those poor bastards without FastTrack had to wait.  My advice is to find two attractions close by each other that you are interested in.  Get the FastTrack for one of them and then go on the other one.  It will ease the pain of waiting when you know that your wait time is actually for two rides at the price of one line.

My last piece of advice is specific to Epcot.  Epcot is a lot more interesting when you are older and can drink in the world showcase.  There are not many cool rides at Epcot.  Hit Soaring and maybe The Land from 10-11am and then pop over to the world showcase.  When I was in college there was a party theme known as an “Around the World party”.   Each room/section/party area was a different beverage and theme.  Epcot’s world showcase lends itself beautifully to this.  Our version of Around Epcot’s World had at least one drink bought in each country.  This could be shared by the group, downed by one hardy soul, or a round could be bought if everyone was thirsty.  It was a great idea.  I even partook in a limited solo bongo drum career after a Morocco-rita.

Advance planning helps in a lot of life’s areas.  The enjoyment of a theme park can be greatly decreased if you wasted half the day in line.  Follow my advice and your Magic Kingdom and Epcot visits will be a lot more pleasant.

Chicago Architecture Tour

I had been hearing about the Chicago Architecture Tour for so long it had got annoying.  Mouths gaped open at the incredulity of not attending this must-see Chicago event.  I heard repeated insistence at what a wondrous time the tour was going to be.  I dug my heels in and refused to go for 4 years.  Finally, to satisfy my curiosity and my girlfriend’s obsession with tours, I decided it couldn’t be so awful to be on a tour for 90 minutes, could it?

I have had a lifetime aversion to guided tours.  I feel like a tour can have the opposite of its intended effect.  When I want to learn about a city, I get out into that city and roam around looking for trouble.  Experience is the most memorable way to learn anything.

That being said, the Chicago Architecture Tour was not awful.  It was so-so.  The entire experience of the event was made fun because I took the tour with some wonderful Midwestern beauties, it was a sunny day in downtown Chicago, and there was a bar in the back of the boat serving $4 margaritas made from scratch.

Here’s the thing about a guided tour.  You are forced to sit riveted on the tour guide, while he frantically spews out facts.  Facts, facts, facts, I felt like I had spontaneously contracted ADD after about ten minutes, I really could’ve used a few minutes of mental downtime.  But no, the guide was relentless.  I have shunned tours because I get the same experience as going to a dueling piano bar; The pianist’s get visibly upset if you – Heaven Forbid – talk to people around you rather than focusing on the pianist like he’s a cult leader.  Tour guides in my limited experience have been the same way, they demand your undivided attention so they can hammer home more facts about why old Betty knitted a sweater while her husband built some building in 1842…not sure why I care about that level of detail.  The Chicago Architecture Tour guide was calmer than most guides in this area, he had a boat of 100 people held captive on the river.  So when myself and a few kindred spirits went to the bar for spirits, the guide somehow restrained from comment and let us get a beverage.

The tour itself, well, it was nice to be on the river on a sunny day.  Some of the building are nice looking and have interesting random features.  I thought about posting some pictures, but does anyone really want to see pictures of tall buildings?  It just doesn’t seem that unique to me.  I have no qualms with others getting excited about an architect’s motivation behind the lattice work of the river-facing building façade, its just not my cup of tea.  There was a 5 minute speech on the stories behind the great Chicago fire.  The “intrigue” behind the decision on what compass direction the opera house was built got shared with us.  Otherwise, I made snarky comments to my tourmates and took a short nap.

If you like buildings and the stories behind them, you will die and go to Heaven with the Chicago Architecture Tour.  If not, make sure it is warm out so you can enjoy the sun and $4 margaritas.  My best advice is to attend any tour with a good looking lady, then, as with most things, the day is probably a success no matter what the tour guide is yapping about.

Dave Matthews Concert and Party Bus

As I get older I realize the importance of special events.  Free time is too important to waste on half-ass effort and plans.  I was invited to attend a Dave Matthews concert up in Wisconsin recently.  I decided to go, in part because I caught wind of a plan to rent a party bus for the pre-concert tailgating.  I was not disappointed.

I am not the biggest Dave Matthews band.  In 1994 I lived on the second story of the band house for the Muse, a bar on Nantucket Island.  The bands that were playing at the Muse would stay on the first story of the band house.  Dave Matthews band was just becoming popular in 1994, they played at the Muse, a 400-seat venue, for 3 nights that summer.  A band’s popularity on the island was partly due to their social and partying capabilities.  The bar closed at 1am, we cleaned up the bar, and headed out to the band house to party with the band until the sun came up.  This was a standard weeknight itinerary for the summer of 1994.  I recall that during the Dave Matthew’s post show parties, the majority of the band would stay up drinking and frolicking late into the night.  But Dave would sit on the couch sulking and acting like a prima donna.  This went on for 3 nights.  So I decided he was not my favorite rock star.

Little did I realize that a properly executed tailgate party negates any ill will.  I am surprised I did not wake up with “I love Dave” tattooed on my forehead.  24 people convened at the organizer’s house at 1230pm.  There was a ratio of 1 cooler for every 1.5 people.  This is not to mention tents, approximately 20 fold-up chairs, a keg, and various other paraphernalia.  I knew 4 people there, 3 of which I had only met once.  I was still giddy about the prospects for the day/evening.  The party bus pulled up and my giddiness increased.  Not only did it have room for all of the people and party gear, but there was also a toilet on board.  The biggest problem with tailgates is the decision on when to “break the seal” of your bladder.  You are having a good time and suddenly you feel the pressure down below.  The port-a-pots are most likely a quarter mile away, and you have to wait in line, missing out on all the fun, plus you have to deal with the stench.  So you hold it, and then you can only half-focus on the tailgate party, because you have to clench your pc muscle the entire time to prevent any dribbling.  So, like much in life, the breaking of the seal is a catch-22 proposition.  The party bus alleviates this, a personal bathroom, mere steps from your tailgate spot!

The bus ride there is a blast.  Beers galore, tons of yapping, no worry or concept of directions, waiting in line, someone having to be dd, much like the beer trolley.  The tailgate setup was intricate, everyone was swarming all over the site like a bunch of ants on an anthill.  Tents, 8 foot long tables, chairs, a bag toss game, keg, jello shots, some other random game involving balls on a rope (don’t ask), grills, dips, around 15 coolers…as big as the party bus was, there was so much tailgate loot on it, the party bus had the effect of a clown car at a carnival, items were pouring out of it at a ratio that didn’t seem possible.  A small crowd of fellow tailgaters continually streamed up to marvel, compliment, and gape in awe and jealousy at our situation.  A couple people got a little carried away, one young Indian dude stole a cupcake, I seriously considered the ramifications of kicking his teeth in.  Fortunately I cooled off my rage and went back to my game of beer pong.  I educated the Midwesterners on the proper beer pong rules.  1 cup on every corner, balls must be thrown above eye level (the newcomers continually cheated on this rule but I didn’t care it was still fun), drops are a drink, cup hits are a drink.  A simple game, fun, and you leave feeling happy.  There was also a bag toss tournament going on with brackets and seedings.  It was a blast, almost like an adult carnival all contained within perhaps 1000 square feet of space.

Time slowly became a joyful haze where laughter and chatter oozed together.  A great tailgate party has the effect of causing its participants to forget why they were gathered.  I thought I was at a party in a parking lot somewhere.  Someone mentioned Dave was going to be on stage soon, wait, what?  I turn around and notice the venue entrance and it hits me, umm, oh yeah, I came here to go to a Dave Matthews concert.  Bear in mind it is 9pm, 8 hours into the tailgate, people are slowly staggering away from the tailgate site like grenade shrapnel.  I have no idea how we are going to stay together while in a general admission show in this condition, particularly since I did not know anyone except my lady.  Not a concern, we kept bumping into people on the concert lawn all night.

That’s right, there was a concert.  The few songs I managed to listen to sounded crystal clear.  There were so many conversations, beer runs, gossiping, walking around, and other activities on the concert lawn, that the concert was more like a background soundtrack for the evening.  I did think “Crash into Me” sounded awesome.  The new bluesy song sounded killer.  They didn’t play “Satellite”, which is one of my favorites, apparently that makes me an old bastard due to the fact I was dumbfounded that it was not a lock to be played.  Suddenly the show was over and we were back on the bus.  Nothing better than being able to use the bathroom and not lose forward vehicle momentum.  Got back to the organizer’s around 1am, twelve hours.  Apparently a few people stayed up grilling late night chow, I was ready to call it a night by this point.

My hat’s off to the organizer of the 12-hour tailgate.  Not only was he able to coordinate all the food, jello shots, keg, money, bus, etc., but he also partied his ass off.  When you are going to spend your time on a weekend event, going the extra mile to plan out the fun can pay off big.  I can’t wait for next year’s party bus.