Recuperative Measures

I called Judy and had to cancel our attendance at her Christmas soiree, which sounded like the closest thing to a salon (in the non-web magazine sense). People from various lands who are nuclear physicists and first violins and so on. Only I didn't talk to Judy; I talked to her stepson. I hope she got the message. (I hope she's still talking to me. What a time to cancel: two hours before we were supposed to be there.)

Darin sacked out all day. At one point I got cabin fever and went in search of something to do, which led me to the conclusion that everything really does close on Christmas in Cupertino. Everything. Coffee Society. Starbuck's. Safeway. I returned home and ate some of the baklava my father had given Darin as a Christmas present.

In the after Lance came over--a big prereq of seeing us this vacation has been a willingness to come visit us, I discovered--and Darin, me, Lance, and Mitch drove to Castro Street in search of Chinese food, because only the Chinese restaurants were open. We'd hoped that Sue's Indian Kitchen was open but sadly we were disappointed. We ate at a restaurant next to our usual Castro Street hangout, Szechuan Garden. The restaurant filled up by the time we left.

We scouted the movie theatres but they were packed, so we went home and Lance produced a Nintendo 64 machine. Lance, Mitch, and Darin played "Diddy Kong Racing" for about 23 hours--Darin didn't do very well--while I watched. I hate to play new games with people who are clearly better at them than I am. I like to practice in secret in the confines of my own home.

Lance left and we spent another evening trying to get Darin to sleep through the night.

Greg wrote me mail and asked if Darin and I wanted to go visit with Jimi and Renee, who'd just bought a new house in Menlo Park. We said sure (we had actually been supposed to visit them Christmas Day, but Darin spaced and probably wouldn't have wanted to do all that traveling anyhow).

Greg came over to our neck of the woods this morning and we had breakfast at the Original Pancake House again. We had the same waitress and she recognized us. Then we went to Kepler's in Menlo Park to kill some time--I bought books; Darin was strong--and then we went to see the new house.

Wow.

I mean, Wow.

A gigantic 3 bedroom house with a spectacular view of Woodside, Portola Valley, and Atherton. Floor to ceiling glass windows and a deck wrapping around the house. A wine cellar with a tiny room Jimi's going to make a tasting room. A spacious kitchen with another deck by it. Upstairs and downstairs living rooms. A pool (though they didn't want one) and a hot tub. Luxury.

I want one, I told Darin.

You have one, he told me.

Not like this, I pointed out.

You buy the next one, he said. (Not really. I add that only for comic value.)

J-and-R's house in San Francisco was evidently crammed with stuff; in this house their belongings could fit into maybe one half of one of those living rooms. Spectacular.

We stood around while the movers brought stuff into the house and Darin and Jimi caught up (they hadn't seen one another in a while). I kept going into the house and coveting, then coming out and rejoining the conversation. I kept meaning to ask Jimi for recommendations of books to learn about wine--Mr. Hendler-Sloo had given me one a while back, but I suddenly felt a desire to learn all I could about wines--but forgot.

We flew back and Carole and Steve picked us up at the airport. Carole had made dinner back at home, so we celebrated Darin's birthday around our own dinner table (always a strange sensation, eating in our own home).

I sent mail to Lucy apologizing for not getting together with her while I was up north. She said that she had failed to be distraught over my not calling her and would accept it if I called her another time when I went up there. Awfully decent of her.