Bear....fer.ves.cence

Today I logged my 4th visit to the innards of AT&T Park, since I moved to SF in 2005.
Here's the score so far: 50% of visits for baseball games, 25% for football games, and the last 25% for an HD simulcast of the opera Samson and Delilah. (Come to think of it, it only makes sense, seeing as how it was only recently I found out the phenom of a tailgate party did not originate in the parking lot outside the symphony hall.)

Yes, it was a special day. Not just because of all that, but also because it was my first Cal game! And they won, thank goodness -- it is no fun to be surrounded by Cal fans (as I am most of the time), who are in the depths of mourning a game loss.

What (rather who) I was surrounded by was patient band alumni willing to teach me basics of football. Finally, I know 1st and 10 does not mysteriously transform into 110 as I once thought it does. And that there's a reason those guys with the poles are always running with about 10 yards between them!

More pictures at a later date. Here's my friend Jenny and her friend John to holdja over.

Not just songs!

No no, it's not just songs my mother taught me, but adages as well! Don't anybody never tell ME I put all my eggs in one basket, no sir!

Practice does not make perfect!

Okay people, I report this on behalf of my father -- I like to call it community service: there is no such thing as perfect oatmeal. It is, in fact, in the same category of logic as same difference and controlled chaos!

Please beware of this falsity the next time you go to Starbucks. Yes, it has fiber, and it has been endorsed by Wilford Brimley. The thing is, it is only made palatable with added brown sugar (preferably a lot), and such consumption provides a precipitous sugar crash 'round about 10 am, which isn't considered anywhere near lunch time, except in New York. Adding insult to mistake, it costs something south of three bucks for the lost soul momentarily blinded by the promises of perfection. You've been warned; caffeinate with caution!

Transition more delicious than expected

This just in: I might have to eat my words
(in addition to suffering self-inflicted, groan-inducing puns):

Since our return from The Boot, Trevor and I have been preparing ourselves for bad pasta and clueless baristas. Can't say much for the latter, but the former was addressed in exceptional form last night at Trevor's colleague Barbara's house!

Barbara hosted a dinner welcoming Trevor back to the trenches of Intel "This is sooo not Turin" Research. Now, we had a huge bonus in that Barbara's mother is staying with them right now. When I arrived at the house, the kitchen counter was covered in what they told me was gnocchi, although these were bigger than anything I saw all throughout Italy! Well, it turns out there was a plum inside each one, it was unbelievably scrumptious. She made a sweet-ish sauce that was cinnamon-y and nutmeg-y that went over it, and we ate them right up.

There were quite a few people there besides Trevor and myself (mostly from his work, of course), but Barbara also invited a friend of her who is a Sociologist, and many years ago lived in Turin! In very Berkeley (also Eugene) form, she brought this big bowl of quinoa (an "alternative" grain, if you will), and was trying to be all humble next to Nonna's plum cinnamon gnocchi heaven, but they were both so lovely that I drove home with a perma-smile on my face.

Not yet

Oh my heavens, you're here already?! I should have made a comment about this being a party and fashionable lateness or some other such diversion. But fear not, the Blog of Everyday Life will be updated someday soon...