dining with bikers
October is special for bikers (the Harley Davidson types) in the areas around Daytona and Ormond Beach. Biketoberfest has them arriving in droves, tough guys and biker chicks, tattooed, bandannaed, scruffy and very cool though quite intimidating.
Our close encounter with the leather set occured when we decided to have our penultimate dinner at a ritzy Japanese resto in Ormond Beach. Shattering my perconceived notions, a large group of bikers we dining at the same resto (where our fillet mignon and lobster teppanyaki cost $30 per person - thank goodness I wasn't footing the bill, it was just too much to consider). It never occured to me that they would go for such curled-little-finger pleasures, but then again, those bikes cost a fortune. It turns out that some of them are very wealthy - doctors, internet millionaires, architects, authors - and have simply taken to living on the road with a hog between their legs.
Sage was terrified by the roar of the machines and general seeming unruliness of their company, but they were fine (though my mother-in-law couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at their presence). A ciggie's lifespan shared with a couple of these huge men proved very education to me - at this point in my life, I should know not to judge anyone based on appearances, but sometimes, ignorance has me leaning towards the evidence of my eyes.
Rickey surprised us again with a box he Fedexed from NY containing porn and music discs and two Carcasonne expansions. Nikki and I are shaking our heads in disbelief, finding it hard to understand what we did to deserve such kindness - but we're not complaining, Rickey!
Thank you, thank you, thank you (first from me, next from Nikki, and third from our gang in Manila who will love playing the game).
Sage, who has been enjoying herself tremendously, came up to her mother and I last night, teary-eyed.
"I want to go home, Dad," she said.
And in that moment, the three Alfars bonded yet again.
I really do not beleive in lengthy vacations. Two weeks should be enough for me - unless it is mixed with some other agenda (business or authoring). There is only so much my eyes can see and my spirit can take before the siren call of home becomes irresistable.
Nikki and I absolutely certain though, that if ever we decide to move to the US and make a new life, it will be in a city - New York or Seattle or some place like those.
Home = city. City = public transpo, tall buildings, pedestrian temptations and cigarettes within spitting distance.
And bookstores, of course.
Our close encounter with the leather set occured when we decided to have our penultimate dinner at a ritzy Japanese resto in Ormond Beach. Shattering my perconceived notions, a large group of bikers we dining at the same resto (where our fillet mignon and lobster teppanyaki cost $30 per person - thank goodness I wasn't footing the bill, it was just too much to consider). It never occured to me that they would go for such curled-little-finger pleasures, but then again, those bikes cost a fortune. It turns out that some of them are very wealthy - doctors, internet millionaires, architects, authors - and have simply taken to living on the road with a hog between their legs.
Sage was terrified by the roar of the machines and general seeming unruliness of their company, but they were fine (though my mother-in-law couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at their presence). A ciggie's lifespan shared with a couple of these huge men proved very education to me - at this point in my life, I should know not to judge anyone based on appearances, but sometimes, ignorance has me leaning towards the evidence of my eyes.
gifts from new york
Rickey surprised us again with a box he Fedexed from NY containing porn and music discs and two Carcasonne expansions. Nikki and I are shaking our heads in disbelief, finding it hard to understand what we did to deserve such kindness - but we're not complaining, Rickey!
Thank you, thank you, thank you (first from me, next from Nikki, and third from our gang in Manila who will love playing the game).
a wish for home
Sage, who has been enjoying herself tremendously, came up to her mother and I last night, teary-eyed.
"I want to go home, Dad," she said.
And in that moment, the three Alfars bonded yet again.
I really do not beleive in lengthy vacations. Two weeks should be enough for me - unless it is mixed with some other agenda (business or authoring). There is only so much my eyes can see and my spirit can take before the siren call of home becomes irresistable.
Nikki and I absolutely certain though, that if ever we decide to move to the US and make a new life, it will be in a city - New York or Seattle or some place like those.
Home = city. City = public transpo, tall buildings, pedestrian temptations and cigarettes within spitting distance.
And bookstores, of course.
posted by Dean at
4:08 AM
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