Journal of an Urbane Gorilla

Trim yer jib and get ready to hike out!

Well, it’s that time again: the America’s Cup has started. Actually, it’s the Louis Vuitton Cup round robins that have started. On race days, in our humble abode, we eat, drink, think, sleep, and talk sailing. Well, Big Guy and Grams talk sailing. As you know, I don’t do the sailing thing. Not a big fan of water sports is the Gweeds. I suspect that it’s a genetic pre-disposition. Grams says that’s nonsense, but I’m sure that I do much better on terra firma.

On the first day of the Vuitton round robins, Oracle (USA) and Luna Rossa (Italy) both won both of their races, so they’re both in 1st place. Grams always cheers for an Italian team (she has 3 to choose from this time around). Big Guy just likes a good race. I like the idea that we can look at it on the telly and not get wet.

During America’s Cup years, sailing is added to the excitement of the Tour de France. Then, counting the baseball season and we’re off to a sports-filled summer. It seems that when there’s an America’s Cup, Big Guy and Grams are inspired to sail more often. I’ll wave them off from the shore. Usually, I wait in the car listening to my iPod and reading travel books. Grams has tried every ploy to get me into their boat, but I will not go. It’s a wise Gweeds who knows his limitations.

Of course, the Tour de France inspires Grams (and the rest of the world it seems) to go racing about on her bike. You’ll remember all the spills she took last summer; well this time around it was Big Guy who took the first fall of the season. We were on our way to meet Grams on her way home when Big Guy took at turn into a driveway a little too fast. He got his right knee and chin scuffed. As usual I flew off into a bush.

Grams went into Dr. Mom mode when we got home. Big Guy put his leg up on the counter and I hopped up hoping for some TLC too. She got out the alcohol and a huge bandage. Of course, she gave him the magic kisses. That always works for me. I didn’t have any physical damage, but when I cleared my throat and did my Bambi eyes, she came over and gave me kisses too.

When it comes to baseball, Grams likes it because it’s basically a game of statistics: that’s her game. Big Guy, Henri and I like baseball because we’re guys. So, there’s something for everyone in our pied à terre when it comes to baseball.

In a few weeks Henri will arrive. I’ll be getting busy planning adventures for our fall trip and hiding out from Grams when she goes on her Tours de Terroir, and from all of them when they decide to go sailing. I will be there for every ball game though. I’m in my happy place.

A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders) and support Kiva.

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

Crikey! So, that’s what it’s like

Picture this: The sun is shining and a hot wind is blowing here in Santa Tourista. I decided to rest in the hammock out back. Nothing like being in the hammock under the orange tree and next to the night-blooming jasmine, I say. I was just chilling, drinking a large lemonade and thinking about my meeting in New York next week. Well, it’s our meeting in New York. Grams usually does the talking and I have to do is smile and be pleasant and be prepared for many hugs.

Okay, I have a confession to make: she also does all the work. I get all my ideas into the computer, then she fleshes them out. She’s finished a new PowerPoint presentation and she had mouse pads made with my picture on them (that was entirely her idea). The mouse pads are for handing out at our business meeting. She hasn’t printed up my memoirs yet; she needs to get that done.

Anyway, so there I was chilling when I heard the mailman. “Grams, the mail’s here!” I yelled. “So, what happened to your legs?” she yelled back. I was about to say something smart when I remembered those mouse pads and all her hard work. So, I got up and went to get the mail. Well, I rolled over and fell out of the hammock; which is how I usually get out of the hammock.

There was the June 19th issue of the New Yorker. This is one of Grams favourite weeklies. I like the cartoons. People think I’m smart reading the New Yorker, but I’m just looking at the ‘toons. There was also some junk mail and a big envelope for Grams. I could tell that it was from her retina doc. When I told her she came out and opened up the envelope.

“Crikey, Gweeds! Will you look at this!” she said. It was another pic of the hole in her retina. “Hey, this is huge! What’s the deal?” She showed me a sticky note. It was from one of the technicians, “thought you’d like to see this,” It said. Grams shook her head, “I guess it’s a better shot of it.” “Gosh,” I said “it looks . . .” She completed my thought, “terrible, yes, it looks terrible. Of course, at the same time it’s eerily beautiful.” I had to agree.

When Grams went inside, I settled back down with the New Yorker. That’s when I ran across an article by Oliver Sacks. He’s a neurologist and he was writing about what it’s like to not have binocular vision: in other words, what it’s like to see the world the way Grams sees it. I was gobsmacked! I have not idea. I mean, she’s told me, but I never really knew. She lives in a flat world, no 3-D, no depth perception. And yet she gets along. I took the article and rolled over and fell out of the hammock and waddled inside.

After I showed her the article she said, “Yep, that’s me Gweeds. That’s why this hole in my retina is so troubling. If I lose the sight in my left eye, we have no idea if I’ll be able to read again.” “Will you see?” “Oh, sure; but the centre of my vision is gone in that eye and the doc doesn’t know if I’ll get it back.” With that she went back to work on our presentation. Gosh, I never knew.
A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

Lipizzaners and strudel

In order to tell you about today, I have to tell you about yesterday. Grams bought time on the internet service here at the Hilton – then, she couldn’t get on-line. A phone call was made to the main desk and Stephan (that’s pronounced: Schteh-phan) arrived at our door. Stephan is usually in charge of catering services, but he’s also an IT wizard. He worked on it for about 45 minutes and finally solved the problem (the 'problem' was Grams’ firewall). Then, he got us complementary tickets for a free breakfast. Wotta guy! And he likes hamsters too – superb!

So, this morning we bopped down to breakfast. Well, it stopped us in our tracks. Wotta spread! We went back for seconds and thirds. There were eggs and bacon and croissants and salmon and herring and yogurt and cereal and freshly squeezed orange juice (with pulp!). It just went on and on. The coffee was great too. We waddled out.

Finally, we got started late for going into the city. First, we went to the Spanish Riding School. It’s inside and you’re basically watching the horses get their morning exercise to classical music. You’re not supposed to take photos, but Grams left her camera sitting on the ledge and I happened to trip the shutter (my bad - yes, I turned off the flash. sheesh!). Of course afterwards, we had to go to the Spanish Riding School Store. Marian found a new back pack for me and Grams bought it. “Not that you deserve this Gweeds,” she said. I was appropriately humble.

Then, we went to the Albertina Museum because that’s where the Egon Schiele (pronounced: Scheeleh) paintings are supposed to live. But, this the 250th anniversary of Mozart’s birth and Amadeus has taken over the Albertina. So, we moved on to the Leopold Museum where they have a few Schieles and Klimts. There were some amazing exhibitions there. They had a few rooms of paintings by a fellow named named Alfons Walde (pronounced: Vail-dah). He was a fine painter and he also did those famous Austrian travel posters from the 30s, which were also on display.

We ended up in the gift shop and then went to the café and had soup and rolls. The soup was Thai chicken with lemon grass in a creamy broth (Grams assured me that it was restructured soy protein. yum). By the time we finished there it was 4 PM – and so we headed back to the hotel, but not before stopping at a bakery and loading up on yummy pastries for the morning. They’re sitting on the table now in a big pink box (Mustn’t eat. Mustn’t eat). Big Guy brought his travelling French press so we can have coffee and croissants (and strudel) in our rooms tomorrow AM.

Later, we went back into town for dinner in a wonderful 'gasthouse.' We ate in the cellar. De-lish!

The sky here is so dramatic. It’s like a constantly changing painting. In the Leopold Museum they have huge picture windows in some of the rooms and looking out of them is as fabulous as looking at the paintings. The curators also give context to paintings in the Leopold. They will move paintings around to show you how one artist can influence another or where the artist got his/her inspiration.

These horses and carriages were parked down the street from the Spanish Riding School. As we walked by Grams cracked, “So, that’s where the Lipizzaners retire to!”

I have a new back pack. I’m in my happy place. Check out my slideshow.

A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

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By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea . . .

Last Sunday, when we tried to ride up the hill in the meadow on our bikes, a 25 mph headwind kept us from getting to the top (as a matter of fact, it kept us at the bottom). That was okay because we headed the other way with the wind at our backs at ended up seeing the kiteboarders.

This Sunday morning was a different story. We went all the way to the top of the hill and on to the western bluffs. It was another beautiful Santa Tourista day. We’re going to miss the ocean while we’re gone. Originally I was going to post about Vienna today, but these shots were too good not to share. And on the way back I saw a butterfly! Finally, a butterfly! I made Grams and Big Guy stop while I took this picture. The butterfly waited for me to finish and then he flew away. It was as if he were posing.

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The rest of Sunday was devoted to getting these 2 clowns to pack their bags. I have to be very stern or they’ll be running around like headless chickens at the last minute not being able to find anything. Just this last Saturday we had to go all the way into Santa Tourista and get things that had been forgotten. This included going to the travel store and to the big fancy store where Big Guy and I sit in the comfy chairs by the escalator while Grams goes upstairs to shop. We cross our legs and lean back as we listen to the tinkling piano and watch the girls at the make-up counter. Life is good sometimes.

A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

We'll sip a little glass of wine, and I'll gaze into your eyes divine*

I know you think of me as an urbane boulevardier without a worry in the world but no, mes amis, you have no idea the pressure I’m under. It’s only 21 days ‘til we leave and I feel as if I’m in a vice right now. There are so many things to plan and of course the doofus’ I hang with are oblivious to the deadline, as usual.

They’re going about their usual stuff and nonsense, leaving me to get everything together for the holiday. But, you know I wouldn’t mind if, when we got there, they behaved like the adults that they supposedly are. Oh no, I end up with photos like the one here.

Of course, just when I was working up a nice little snit, Grams sat down next to me and started to rub my ear lobes. Nothing un-tenses me like rubbed ear lobes. It’ll all get done somehow. 21 days to go, [sigh]. In the meantime, Miss Scarlett (aka Grams) goes swanning about declaring, "Fiddle dee dee, I'll think about it tomorrow!"

On other fronts, the Snow Geese are heading back up north and they fly right by our door. They like to rest in a meadow near us, so we hear them everyday. “Open the back door, the honkers are coming through!” Big Guy will yell to no one in particular. It does sound as if they’re coming through the house.

We love to see them in the meadow, but we also love to sit out back and watch them fly overhead. They sweep across the sky in their v-shaped curves. I’m fascinated by them. It’s not just that they can fly, but that they can fly so far. Grams says that if I really want to fly; we could go kiteboarding down by the shoreline. Think I’ll let her do that, I’ll watch from the cliffs. She'd better not break anything before we leave.

I have noticed that she’s been looking longingly at her wetsuit lately. I suspect that she’s going to be using it soon. But I digress, I must pay less attention to the honkers and egrets and herons and the 2 doofus' and more to the preparations for Vienna and Italy. Did I mention that there’s only 21 days ‘til we leave?

A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

*That’s My Desire

To spend one night with you
In our old rendezvous
And reminisce with you
That's my desire

To meet where gypsies play
Down in that dim cafe
And dance till break of day
That's my desire

We'll sip a little glass of wine
And I'll gaze into your eyes divine
I'll feel the touch of your lips
Pressing on mine

To hear you whisper low
Just when it's time to go
"Cheri, I love you so"
"You're my desire"

Words and music - C Loveday, H Kresa

There's one for you, nineteen for me*

After much procrastination and loud moaning, Grams has finally gotten my tax ledger together. And it’s about time, if you ask me. We meet with the accountant on Wednesday. Now, I know what you’re thinking, “Gweeds, why don’t you do your sums yourself?” Well, I did one year and showed up with a paper bag of receipts. Grams has done my ledger ever since. The problem is that she puts it off until the last possible moment (even though she promised me she’d have them done weeks ago). Oh well, at least they’re done at last. Now we can play.

Grams is funny about taxes. She and Big Guy are the only people I know who don’t mind paying taxes. “Though I would like to get better value for money,” she sighs. What would that be? “Universal health care, universal child care, a living wage for everyone for a start.” Ah, the social safety net thing. Well, they do smile when they write their check to the IRS, I’ll give them that.

I’ve put together another slide show for you – and Grams narrated it. Hope you enjoy it.

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A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,

Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).

And, of course

平和 に 働 き

(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)

*Let me tell you how it will be;
There's one for you, nineteen for me.
'Cause I’m the taxman,
Yeah, I’m the taxman.

Should five per cent appear too small,
Be thankful I don't take it all.
'Cause I’m the taxman,
Yeah, I’m the taxman.

(if you drive a car, car;) - I’ll tax the street;
(if you try to sit, sit;) - I’ll tax your seat;
(if you get too cold, cold;) - I’ll tax the heat;
(if you take a walk, walk;) - I'll tax your feet.

Taxman!

'Cause I’m the taxman,
Yeah, I’m the taxman.

Don't ask me what I want it for, (ah-ah, Mr. Wilson)
If you don't want to pay some more. (ah-ah, Mr. Heath)
'Cause I’m the taxman,
Yeah, I’m the taxman.

Now my advice for those who die, (taxman)
Declare the pennies on your eyes. (taxman)
'Cause I’m the taxman,
Yeah, I’m the taxman.

And you're working for no one but me.

Taxman!