December Saturday

Rushed down South to go to work. It was 80 degrees in El Cajon today, which is just incredible. Back in the beach area, it was around 66. But the harbor and the bay were alive with sails. In fact, the harbor had a huge destroyer coming into port.

Tonight I met my buddy who was hanging out with some members of his improv troupe out in University Heights. Uni Heights is an inward part of, more or less, downtown San Diego, abutting North Park. 30th street is a highlight of the neighborhood, this year voted by Playboy magazine as the best street for bars in all of the United States. This area is one of my least favorite parts of San Diego. It is just a simple, inland commercial area filled with hipsters. Come on. It's San Diego. Where is the beach? Where are the blondes? Why do I have to pay two dollars more for a drink and five dollars more for an entree here when your clientele is about as exciting as drying cement and it took me 15 minutes to find a parking space? Plus, the homeless people in this area are very aggressive. And a number of the patrons look like they should be homeless.

Still, I got to hang out with my friend. And he commended me on my knowledge of San Diego, and he is a lifelong resident. I did, after an arduous search, find a trendy lounge with reasonable prices and got something to eat. Though the barbecued chicken flatbread I ordered to the one I had at Jamba Juice the other day, there were some friendly patrons and a bartender who was first rate. She really understood the business and how to serve. I love it when that happens. Then I went to meet the members of the improv troupe at a bar and found myself getting mocked and insulted by the twerp bartender because I ordered a glass of wine. He reacted as though I asked him to cobble my shoes. This was a beer only bar, which I extracted from his obnoxious and insulting return. I politely flattened him, and did not spend a dime in the establishment. HIs reaction could best be described as confused and/or stoned.

My buddy and I hit a lounge I knew around the corner with the best wine by the glass list I've seen in San Diego. They offer Torremoron, the first and only wine that I ever bought a case of. The place itself is nothing special, but when they feature Kermit Lynch wines you know that you're in a place that gets it, despite the expansive gaps between patrons. Which may be determined by the fact that they sell Torremoron for $9/glass. A bit much. Distributors on the East Coast sell the same wine for a bout $9/bottle. But this wine is very special, and it comes from a tiny village in Northwest Spain where every single resident works for the production and/or distribution of the winery. As for the clientele in this bar, which is imaginatively called El Take It Easy (lame), plenty of beards, plenty of hats, a huge number of empty seats, and very few women.

My cd player picked into Otis Redding, which is always welcome. And I was brought back to the June Saturday in my hometown of Columbia, Missouri where I picked it up. And I could think of all the moments I've had in the past six months when it was playing.

We're on the verge of the new year, and I'm going to turn the corner out here.