November 19, 2005
Last night Kathy and I met Russell and Wendy Shaw down at Keg’s Steakhouse in Desert Ridge Shopping Center, just off the 101 and Tatum. It was a cool night on the desert and dusk had turned to darkness as we approached the turn-in off Tatum. The whole mall area was slammed with traffic and zero parking spaces. As I maneuvered around a crunch of blocked cars, Kathy said if she ever met the engineer who designed the roads and parking at Desert Ridge she’d slap his face. I finally drove around the back side of the restaurant and found one lone open space near the back row and I pounced on it and slid the Escape right in. Roaming cars in other rows gave us the evil eye as they darted into our area like sharks looking for blood (yes, cars can give the evil eye and if you’ve never felt the intimidation of a black Hummer idling menacingly behind you, well, you’ve never been out West, pardner).
Got inside and fought our way up to the hostess desk where we were met by not one, but three cute blonds dealing with a 20 to 30 minute waiting list. We got our saucer-shaped space ship pager that lights up when a table is ready and tried to find a place to wait out the storm. Kathy went into the bar and ordered me a glass of cabernet and a glass of draft beer for her. I found a seat in the darkened atrium between the outer and inner doors. A lone woman sat across from me with her head down chipmunking (text messaging with her thumbs). I made menacing ferret noises until she looked up and then I licked my lips like a crazy loon.
We got seated about 7:30 and called Russ and Wendy on my cell (our dinner date was for 7:15). Turns out they were vainly trying to find a parking space this whole time. They finally found one, next to our car!
Russ and I ordered New York strip steaks and garlic mashed potatoes and the girls had salads (high cholesterol anyone?). Russell and I got into a debate about the difference between Jim Murray and Jim Larkin. Both guys seemed equally hip and on the ball, going places, in the mid-seventies, but one went to prison (crack) and the other went on to be a media mogul worth $400 million. I, of course, made the connection to the release of the quail last Sunday (see posting). Of course I was on my second glass of wine and my IQ was surpassing my good sense. Russell wasn’t drinking and he, like a good friend, humored me as only Russ can. (split the tab down the middle, $140, includes tip, house account)
After dinner we walked over to Barnes & Noble and I went straight to the magazine racks where I found the November issue of True West (Is America Ready for a Gay Western?). They only had two copies left. I think they get eight or ten. I moved them to the eye-level row then went around to the backside to look for our competitors. Found Cowboys & Indians and American Cowboy (they are slotted in Lifestyle and we are usually slotted in History), but lo and behold there was another of our True West issues right next to Cowboys & Indians. Odd. Don’t know how that happened. Put our mag in front of theirs and left the store, happy.
Nice day at home today. Worked in studio, and piddled all day. Watched some TV (half of Torqued and half of Sideways and a Jon Stewart), read and went to bed around ten. Kathy got in about midnite. She had a Goddess meeting with the girls and I assume they did their usual: solve life and blame it on men.
“Why do certain marriages last 50 or 60 years? It boils down to something really simple:The right people with the right combinations of energies found each other by God knows what mistake or twist of faith.”
—Dave Insley, local musician describing in the Republic why some bands stick together
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