I’m having a glass of Revelry Vintners Cabernet Sauvignon from Washington State. I like guys who guzzle. I like girls who Big Gulp.
There is a tendency when on one’s public phone to complain, enough so that others might hear you.
I just got called Mr. Nosey by my simpering neighbors.
I’m at Vino Vollo, adding up the costs of misfortunes.
I hope the soccer world champs had time to party between all of their social commitments. I hope they had time to imbibe some Hot Lava.
I’m listening to the B-52s and feel like writhing on the floor.


I want to say, the kindness of strangers I met in the Cru Wine Bar (Denver airport): Steffie first, a deep connection. She wondered if we knew one another in a past life. Then Carolyn, lives in Helena, Montana, recently moved back. She’s in hospice. A little cool, distant, but she lived in Los Angeles for over 20 years, so there’s that. And then the Scottish fellow, Shane, headed to San Diego. A family guy; dog and cats. Super smile. Suddenly a band of yoga retreat women toward the end, and it all flew South. Downward dog.

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