Clinton Who?

          It is Friday and we are currently en route to meet Peter Gross, a wildlife dude who has been featured on a whole slew of morning television programs I would never watch. Word on the street is, he has a considerable amount of wild turkeys roaming about his large Napa property. It is also quite possible that he has a lot of Wild Turkey and just invited us to come get wasted. Only time will tell.

 

            Yesterday, Uncle Brett and I had a special day to ourselves while Zach and Jay caught up on some work at Brett's Mom's house. We met Armen Aussielo, owner of a local haunt in Santa Rosa, and also a real cool sports dude. His bar only serves beer and wine. I don't know why that is a vital piece of information, but I'm a vodka guy myself.

 

            After Armen, we met Bill Gallagher, silent G, who is purported to be the largest developer in Sonoma County. We spoke outside his office as he was walking his employees' dogs. The man, who by my estimation is slightly more successful than Jesus, is real relaxed and genuinely humorous. Not rollicking, sidesplitting funny, but humorous nonetheless. We left his office feeling pretty good, about to have some homemade paella by a guy named Gerard.

 

            Gerard Nevesky, paella cook for the stars. Dude has been making paella for five years and has somehow parlayed it into a globetrotting, near famous business that he runs out of Occidental, California. Occidental has one stop sign, at which we turned left, and soon found ourselves chatting with a guy cooking paella out of the back of his Land Cruiser. He started at 3:30, and had to jet to a gig at 5:00, but did not in fact leave until 5:30ish. We drank his homemade wine and ate his paella. It was delicious. Then he left for the Bohemian Grove party, where he was cooking for Bill Clinton, Bush I, and Henry Kissinger, none of whom he seemed all too impressed by.

 

            Wednesday, to jump back, was pretty boring. We rose at 5Am to go stand around San Francisco all day. To say it was a waste of time would be a huge understatement, although if you must waste time in a city, SF is not a bad place to do it. Seeing all those Bonds lovers makes me want to wretch, but as Armen the bar owner told us, "I don't wanna take the guy out on a date, I want him playing for my baseball team." Good enough.

 

xoxo