Category: Fourre-tout

The day after the atmospheric river cyclone left town, I took a quick ride to our pétanque field to assess the damage. It looked impressively bad…

Initially I saw large pools of water everywhere and tons of dead leaves littering the entire field. At first glance, it looked like it would take weeks to clean up the mess… but today, I proclaim that happy day are here again… yesterday, under a bright springlike sunshine the field looked pristine and eminently inviting. And about 10 or 12 pétanque devotees were already taking advantage of this development.

Some good fairies no doubt took pity on us and came during the night to clean up the mess. This is what I have been telling our grandchildren, but I am not entirely sure that they believe me. And the little munchkins are right…The truth is that under the impulse of our Commander in Chief (Christine C), some dedicated volunteers tackled the problem almost immediately after the storm decamped.

I didn’t help, sorry. My back is still uncooperative and does not allow me to do any manual labor. I keep hoping that this problem is just temporary and will eventually be resolved. I am not one bit religious (my denomination is non-Delusional) but I have faith in my doctor, his magic injections, and his anti-spasm medication. Time will tell.

My undercover agents are telling me though that Mike O’Leary, Sandra and Mark Shirkey, Christopher,  Christine Cragg, Charlie, Jacques Gautier, Colin, Loel, Abby and Shama were instrumental in restoring the field to its present status. Thanks and kudos to all of them!

Yes, happy day are here again…

Our next tournament of the year (November 14) is fast approaching, and weather permitting, it should be well attended. Personally, I always enjoyed playing in the winter; I almost prefer it rather than playing under a scorching sun. Those of us who went to Napa a few weeks ago will surely agree…

If you intend to play on Saturday or Sunday (Halloween), don’t dress up too scarily. Some players have a weak heart and might not be able to stand the stress. Thinking about it… some people are naturally scary…

George M. Cohan said: “Always Leave Them Laughing When You Say Goodbye.”
So here goes:

“What did Dracula say when the witch and the warlock started kissing? Get a broom!”

Happy Halloween boys and girls! Happy days are here again!

Alain

Lately, the word “influencer” has been bandied about in the news, in movies, in the social media… So, please tell, what exactly is an influencer? Could it be your wife? Your boss? The pope? The IRS?

Not exactly… even though (if you are astute) your wife’s opinion should be carefully considered before making an important decision. She might not have the title, but she certainly has the pull. In my eyes, she qualifies as an influencer.

But let see what the pros are saying. According to the Influencer Marketing Hub:

“An influencer is someone who has: the power to affect the purchasing decisions of others because of his or her authority, knowledge, position, or relationship with his or her audience.”

 There also are different categories of influencers. Digital Marketing is dividing these people in 5 distinct groups:

“Mega-influencers with more than a million followers (think celebrities)
Macro-influencers with 500K to 1 million followers
Mid-tier influencers with 50K to 500K followers
Micro-influencers with 10K to 50K followers
Nano-influencers with 1K to 10K followers”

Interesting, very interesting… So, what’s under nano? Because that’s where I belong. According to my friends at Wikipedia, this prefix derives from the Greek νᾶνος (Latin nanus), meaning “dwarf”. With an audience under 1K, I cannot even qualify as a dwarf influencer… This my friends, is a heavy blow to my ego!

I understand that an influencer has got to have a niche and be an expert on some subject. Well, I have no niche and I am no expert on any subject… but as French luminary Michel Audiard once said: “C’est pas parce qu’on a rien à dire qu’Il faut fermer sa gueule. » (Just because you have nothing to say doesn’t mean that we have to shut your trap.)

I am not an isolated case. There are legions of people around me who have really nothing to say but who keep on talking. It is almost an American institution, like the Senate.

In movies, an influencer is usually pictured as a young woman constantly preening and talking to her cellphone. This is probably the main reason why I don’t qualify as an influencer. As an old bald guy using a walkie-talkie to communicate with my friends, I don’t fit the image.

But don’t let this blatant ageist prejudice stop you from seeking my advice… I might be low on the Richter scale, but I have an answer for everything.

Alain

Marin County is pleasant enough, but occasionally one feels the urge to experience something different, and we picked Monterey for our experiment. It is a mere 3 hours away (by car) from the Bay Area and in fairly easy reach.

The master plan  was to meet some friends out there and rock the casbah in their company; we ultimately made contact at the Old Fisherman’s Wharf parking lot where we had to struggle with an obstinate parking ticket vending machine. It refused to accept our credit cards but finally (grudgingly) obliged. You should know that Monterey is quite discriminate and does not look kindly on interlopers.

In the past, I had visited Monterey a few times and enjoyed the Old Fisherman’s Wharf. But this time it looked like a tired, over powdered old lady trying too hard to please. And don’t expect to get a good meal in the local “gargotes” (greasy spoons). The Old Wharf is a place that you ought to visit only once and forget forever. We nevertheless bought ice-creams to contribute to the impoverished local economy.

Fortunately, Pacific Grove does not age and is still looking as gorgeous as ever. It can be explored a thousand times without ever feeling any weariness. I of course took a lot of pictures of the coast and of the restless ocean.

Our friends then introduced us to a singular resident of that area. Bon vivant, gourmet, raconteur, sailor, aviator, multilingual, musician… it looked like this man (whose admitted goal in life is to live beyond his means) went everywhere, did everything, and met anybody of importance (including Putin… yes, the Russian dude).

After offering drinks and appetizers, he prepared an excellent dinner, and later regaled us with a few nostalgic tunes played on his accordion.
Recently widowed, he also declared that he would marry any woman who would bring him a McLaren car as a dowry. Ladies, if are looking for a good man (and can afford such a car) I could possibly put you in touch.

The next day, Alex took us to sprawling Sticks Sports Bar in Pebble Beach where we had an excellent lunch. And it is not called a Sports bar for nothing… while munching on an excellent club sandwich, I counted no less than 7 giant television screens hanging on the walls of our room.

The next morning, we broke fast at First Awakenings, an excellent local café serving huge, excellent breakfasts to stray tourists. My bacon/mushrooms Eggs Benedict were particularly tasty.

After exploring the coast one more time, we motorcade back to Marin just in time to avoid the rain. And that’s how we spent a few days in Monterey, far away from the sound and fury of boisterous Marin County.

Alain

PS: Have a look at a few photos