Visitors and Vineyards

Two weekends ago,  a couple of friends of mine came to visit me at my home in the East Bay. Because one was visiting from New York, we decided to introduce her to the joy that is Napa Valley. Because all of us are recent college graduates, we’re pretty broke, so we were a little concerned about the cost of tastings: gone are the days when wineries would lavish their visitors with free samples (or so we thought.) Well, after several hours of slavish research (and signing up for a frightening number of newsletters) we found enough coupons for free and reduced-price tastings to more than adequately fill a day*. We were ready.

The day began with a quick trip to the Jelly Belly factory. This is one of my favorite factory tours- complete with shiny machinery, silly hats, and samples of every stage of jelly bean production. Yet this time, we decided to make another stop– next door, at the Anheuser-Busch Budweiser factory. This is a tour I had never taken before, but, speaking as a free-sample freak and recent convert to the cult of beer, I’ve got to say, I was NOT disappointed.

Upon entering the factory store, we were given coupons for two free samples of whatever beer we might want from the bar. I expected tiny tasting cups, but no– we were handed full-sized glasses of our choice of Ales and Lagers. I started with the American Ale, something I’ve never tried before, and found it to be surprisingly delicious. My friends tried the Hefeweizen, Shocktop, and were equally pleased (in fact, I know that since then they’ve both chosen to order the Shocktop at happy hours, which is great! Good job, Anheuser-Busch, score one for you.) We grabbed several bags of free pretzels from the giant baskets sitting around the room, and tried the blueberry-flavored samples they passed around. For a flavored beer, not terrible. Not really my thing, but sort of interesting. Next, we were taken to the bottling area, which was silent due to the recession (apparently they’re only producing cans at this point) and learned about the frightening speed at which their products are packaged. Whew. We then went into the room with the tanks (which is very very cold, and sort of creepy- many  stories worth of giant tanks, each of which apparently holds 1 million dollars worth of beer. Eek.) Learned a little about how they use beechwood chips to increase surface area for the yeast, resisted the urge to keep the pieces of beechwood they have as free souvenirs. I don’t need a chunk of wood. Honest. Then we headed back to the bar for our second sample. Because In-Bev recently purchased Anheuser-Busch, I was able to get a Stella Artois. Yum. By the time we left, I was officially tipsy at 10 am. Yes, I am that classy.

From there, we drove for another hour or so to downtown Napa, where we had a delicious lunch of arepas and organic ice cream at the Oxbow Public market. Feeling a little less woozy, we hit the vineyards. The first was a large, newish winery. We had a 2 for 1 coupon, and thus tried 8 different samples. They were only so-so, and I don’t really want to bash them (or promote them, for that matter) so I’ll leave them anonymous. Suffice it to say, the large winery was crowded and not particularly delicious, so we left a little disappointed.

But oh, things got so much better. Next, we went to Hagafen Cellars, a tiny winery for which we had 2 coupons for 2 free tastings each. Hagafen, just in case you’ve never heard of it (which is probably the case, to be honest) has only recently opened its tasting room. When you walk into the little hut that holds the tastings, you’re immediately struck by the bottles that line the walls. A surprising number seem to have won awards. Given that we had never heard of Hagafen, we were a little skeptical. We were immediately approached by one of the two workers, a perky, curly-haired woman named Tia. She was thrilled when we presented our coupons (unlike the previous winery) and immediately brought us the tasting list, as well as our first sample. We were able to choose 5 wines each. When she heard that my friend from New York had never been on a winery tour, she took us on an impromptu private tour of their cellars and equipment, giving us a quick rundown on their unique crushing and fermentation processes. She brought us samples of reserve wines that weren’t supposed to be part of the tasting menu, and was incredibly helpful in all ways. As we sat enjoying our final few tastings, we happened to read some of the plaques on the wall, and discovered that 1) Hagafen is a Kosher Winery and 2) it’s the wine served at the white house when the prime minister of Israel comes to visit. Now, as a Jew (by birth and a capella group, at very least) I’ve had my share of Kosher wine. Generally, it’s something like Manischewitz– sickly sweet and oppressive. The sort of wine that tastes more like syrup than wine because it’s made from Concord Grapes (for the record, there’s a whole interesting history behind why most kosher wine is in this category, but I won’t get into it now.) This wine, though– this wine held its own against the best of the general, non-kosher wines I’ve tried. It was delicious. I’m still dreaming of their Syrah and Riesling. Just saying. If you get the chance, buy from Hagafen. Go visit. They are GREAT. Great.

After that, we were… skeptical that anything else to compare. The small, artisan kosher winery experience was so superior to the large winery that we thought nothing could be better. The last stop was Jessup, located in Yountville, and we hadn’t heard of it, so we headed off with a little trepidation. It only deepened when we realized that we were headed to a tasting room in the tiny downtown, not a winery. 

This place was swank. Nice decor, many well-dressed, middle-aged wine tourists, giggling into their elegant stemware. Uh-oh. We presented our coupons (another 2 coupons for 2 free tastings, thank you web research skills) and received the very long menu. When we tried to ask for a specific sample, our server gently informed us that it was a predetermined selection. Our trepidation increased further.

Well, as it happened, that “predetermined selection” was EVERYTHING ON THE MENU. 10 tastes. Generous tastes. There were some delicious reds, and port! I love port. I love Jessup. Very very interesting tasting notes, unique combinations of flavor, very knowledgeable servers. All in all, a lovely experience. If you contact them in advance, you can get food pairings. Joyous.

At that point, everyone but the driver was so tipsy that our pallets were basically shot, and we headed home. But summary: if you go to napa to do wine tasting, 1) bring coupons and 2) go to small wineries for personal attention. Go to Hagafen and Jessup, if you can. They deserve all the attention they can get.

*If you’re interested in specifically where I found all my coupons, just ask in the comments section. Happy to share.

Notes from a San Francisco Weekend (Part One): Suits, Casablanca, and Public Transportation

Whew, what a weekend. There’s enough to say that I’ll break this up into two installments– Saturday and Sunday.

SATURDAY

It all began with the farmer’s market. My mother and I make a concerted effort to stop at the Farmer’s Market at the Embarcadero every Saturday that we come to SF, so of course we stopped by to get some fresh produce treats. I bought a bunch of multicolored carrots (though they weren’t as good as last year’s, they were delicious enough that I ate almost the entire bunch before we left the market) and then discovered that CUESA was sponsoring a berry tasting. What a fantastic way to start the morning- I now know (after some intense comparative study) that the Albion strawberry from Dirty Girl produce may in fact be the epitome of the strawberry. Good to know.

SUITS

The main purpose for our San Francisco jaunt was to buy me a suit. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m in the middle of the application process for business school, and now that I’ve got an interview, I finally need a full suit of my own. Needless to say, being a slender 6’2″ female makes finding a suit… challenging. Either the jacket is too short or too wide, and as for pants or a skirt? Well, I’ve learned to hope for substantial hems that can be let out, since I can’t afford anything custom-made (yet!)

I won’t bore you with details, but let’s just say we had been searching for HOURS already when we stumbled across a cooking demonstration in “The Cellar” (the demonstration kitchen in the basement of Macy’s) from David Lawrence, the executive chef of 1300 Fillmore. His fried green tomato salad with honey lavender goat cheese definitely improved my spirits. While waiting for it to start, I also heard about the “SF Chefs. Food. Wine” festival for the first time. If you’re 21, sign up to volunteer and get in free! It’s going to be AMAZING. (But I’ll write more about my deep and abiding desire to attend this festival at a later date.)

Oh, and after another 4 hours, I finally found a suit. I blame it on the spike of energy I got from Chef David 🙂

CASABLANCA

After dinner, my mother headed home and the night really began. I headed across the bay to Berkeley, to have dessert with a friend from school who’s here this summer teaching middle school kids math and theater. What a combination. From there, I persuaded her to come first to a friend’s party in north Berkeley and then back to SF to see my cousin’s band, Maus Haus, headline a show in the Mission Creek Music Festival at the Bottom of the Hill. Note: I’ve written about Maus Haus before. Incidentally, there was an adventure surrounding that show, too.

Well.

The party, for the record, was pretty cool. Casablanca-themed, which meant that (nearly) everyone was decked out in their vintage best, and many of the people in attendance were Lindy dancers, so yes, there was legitimate dancing going on. A rare sort of thing to see. I say nearly all were dressed up, though, because my friend and I were most definitely dressed to reflect the rest of our distinctly modern days. Oh well.

PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION

We planned to leave at 10:45 in order to catch the BART back into the city to the 16th street stop in time to get the #13 Fillmore bus to the venue by midnight, when the band was theoretically to start.

We didn’t leave by 10:45.

We trusted in the accuracy of the host’s iPhone and its BART schedule, missed TWO trains, and ended up leaving at 11:15. Oy.

We made it to the mission BART station by 11:50, and discovered that the next bus wouldn’t be arriving until 12:04, meaning we’d definitely be missing some of the set. In the course of the next 14 minutes, my friend and I attempted to hail a cab.

This was when my super-sheltered-suburban-inner-child decided to rear her ugly (and usually so carefully contained) little head. Somehow, I managed to try to hail not only about 20 already-occupied taxis, but also a pizza delivery boy and a cop car. The bus came before I could manage to get one. Yes, before you ask, I am ashamed to exist.

When we finally made it to the Bottom of the Hill (after being stopped by a photographer from SF Station, who I’m pretty sure has some lovely candids of me trying to call a friend of mine) and tried to pay, but were told that they were no longer charging.

There was only one song left.

Needless to say, we weren’t pleased. After about 5 minutes of music, we were back out on the street, searching for the bus stop. It proved impossible to find, so we finally managed to sucessfully hail a cab.  Because BART was no longer running, we had to wait 40 minutes at the Transbay Terminal for the bus back across the bay. Another hour later (after making everyone on that bus despise us for laughing hysterically at the ridiculousness of the evening for a good portion of the ride,) we finally made it back to her apartment.

It was her last weekend in the bay area- I’m just hoping it was memorable enough that she forgives me for the nightmare of transportation we faced.

Effectual thinking

I just finished reading this document. It summarizes the 2001 findings of Saras Sarasvathy who tried to determine the essence of an “entrepreneurial spirit.” Yes, it’s from 2001, so it’s not exactly hot-off-the-presses new, but the answer is to draw a distinction between causal thinking and effectual thinking and it also happens to articulate the reasons for my hesitance to pursue entrepreneurship better than anything else I’ve seen:

All entrepreneurs begin with three categories of means: (1) Who they are – their traits, tastes and abilities; (2) What they know – their education, training, expertise, and experience; and, (3) Whom they know- their social and professional networks. Using these means, the entrepreneurs begin to imagine and implement possible effects that can be created with them.

Well, that’s all well and good- except I’ve spent the last 20 years (yes, that’s my entire life) learning little else except writing/effective communication, following directions, and maybe a little HTML. I spend most of my time reading. This isn’t to undermine the value of those pursuits or that knowledge- I just never thought of those skills as facilitating the creation of a business, perse. Maybe a consultancy, but I didn’t have anything except my high school diploma and some classes in creative writing. You get my point- the “what I know” bucket seemed to be pretty lacking as a staring point for anything at all. That, in combination with my own particular brand of extreme risk aversion, seemed to put the kibbosh on being an entrepreneur any time soon.

Well, things change. I’ve spent a lot of time this summer reading about entrepreneurship, watching my friends try it out, and playing around with some ideas of my own. I’ve been reaching out to that community a little bit (I live in the bay area, after all) and trying to get a feel for the sorts of people who engage in this effectual thinking. It’s something I’d like to learn, antithetical as it intuitively seems to the way I typically function.

Because I’m going into my senior year of college (and facing the sudden possibility of $150k of debt in just a few years if my interview at HBS goes well at the end of August [yes, I got one- just found on on Monday]) I’ve suddenly been weighing my priorities and thinking a lot about ways to merge the type of lifestyle I desire with the sort of job that will provide me some modicum of security or at least (best?) work that’s engaging enough to make me forget how terrifying it all is. It turns out the engaging-work part is more important to me than the other two, at least for now. What’s more, it seems to me that as far as times-of-your-life-to-risk-everything go, right after college isn’t a bad one. It’s not like I’ve got much to lose- the worst case scenario is I live at home and have to take the full loan package for my MBA.

So this is my public declaration (to keep me honest) that I’ll actually explore this possibility. I’ll push my comfort zone, challenge my thought process, and yes, if my (current) little idea looks like it’s going to work, I’ll tell you all about it.

Fireworks, Mimes, and Books

FIREWORKS

As you may have noticed, this weekend was a national holiday here in America, and one imbued with some astonishing qualities, if you ask me. This year in particular July 4th celebrations had a real transformative effect on my understanding of the town that I live in. Every year, my mother and I go to the parade in the morning and the fireworks at night. Both of these festivities are kind of hokey, to be honest, and this year for the first time they made me realize just how much my hometown has in common with those small towns that populate the rest of this country, coastal and non-coastal regions alike. I’d always sort of assumed that because my area is relatively affluent and part of the bay area that we were different- perhaps more conservative than the rest of the bay, but still a part of the stereotypical Californian ethos. I mean, this was a place where I didn’t feel cool or rich enough to ever quite fit. But if you watch us on the fourth of July- well, you wouldn’t get that feeling. And the groups that are represented in our parade don’t just magically pop into existence once a year- they’re an integral part of the fabric of this community, whether I come in contact with them or not. We have megachurches with rock bands and a lawnmower brigade and 4h and our share of soldiers overseas. We’re pretty good at little league baseball, and we have very earnest cheerleaders. We have more organizations for young to teenage girls to create social hierarchies than I even knew existed. And I don’t say this to condemn or make fun of any of these institutions- far from it- I just didn’t really recognize their existence before. To each his own. It’s good to know there are things going on besides the train museum in my town. My point is more that it’s easy to get caught up in a personal vision of a place based solely on how you interact with it, and to entirely miss everything else that’s going on. I think this place is boring and empty because none of those groups are the types of groups I care to join, not because there isn’t anything to do. So my boredom isn’t a reflection on this place, so much as an indicator that I belong elsewhere. Maybe these are empty observations, but they feel important to me nonetheless. It’s the stupid common sense things that end up being the most meaningful once you get past “knowing” them and actually figure them out, I guess. Oh, and one other observation: it doesn’t matter how awkward and out of place you may feel in a location- fireworks are cool no matter where you go, if you’re into that sort of thing.

MIMES

On Sunday, in an effort to go places that could offer things we actually wanted to do, my mother and I headed to Mission Dolores park to see the opening performance of the SF Mime Troupe’s  new show, “Too Big to Fail.” It’s the 50 yr old Tony Award-winning company’s musical take on the financial crisis a la Just So stories. In an enormously entertaining production, a storyteller takes the audience through a series of folktales to explain our “Sotodo” (or greed button.) Along the way, we hear about the curse of credit, the demon of privatization, and enjoy some excellent performances. The show finds its strength in its actors and its characterization of the circumstances that led to the financial crisis, which while (literally) demonizing of large corporations, doesn’t let anyone off without some guilt. The show falters in the end by proposing a payment strike (where those in debt only pay off what they actually owe and don’t pay back the interest as well.) Noble and idealistic as the idea may be, it’s just a little too naive and simplistic to be convincing, intelligent, or, frankly, worth suggesting. It undermines a lot of the previous power of the show, if you ask me. On the other hand, if you’re going to preach that message, you couldn’t ask for a better audience than San Franciscans in Mission Dolores park. So there you go. On the way back to the BART, we took a detour down Valencia for some quality pirate time. Always enjoyable. Finally, we grabbed the $3.50 tofu tamale special at La Oaxaquena (delicious!) and headed home immensely satisfied. A good day, to say the least.

BOOKS

I’m fortunate enough to have awesome friends in publishing (I’m looking at you, Sarah, Meredith and Jeffrey) so I can get free books from time to time. While I’m technically supposed to be plowing through my thesis reading list (which I totally want to do, don’t get me wrong) I took a break this weekend to read the new translation of The Skating Rink by Roberto Bolano. This is particularly exciting because technically speaking it hasn’t been released yet. I can’t really say much about it until then, but let’s just say I’m working on a pretty substantial essay review of the title which will appear in the Yale Review of Books in the fall (and then maybe here!) Very exciting stuff.

Airplanes, Computer Repairs and Oakland

Airplanes

My travels began this morning with the arrival of a private car (basically a glorified, pre-reserved taxi) arriving at my friend’s place in Brooklyn to pick me up. It was 6 am. I had arrived in New York the previous evening at 9:40, proceeded to wait an hour in the Grand Central terminal with 110 lbs of luggage (literally- I weighed each piece when I got home, and the total 110 lbs. That’s ridiculous) while my friend finished watching August: Osage County. Apparently she didn’t expect it to be 3.5 hours long. Whatever. Either way, it meant a free place to crash (across from a project, but I’m not picky) and some much-needed dinner, and it meant that car service was cheap enough to be feasible. My driver was an Egyptian man named Ali who used his boundless energy, despite the early hour, to ogle my tired, rumpled figure in the rear view mirror the entire way to JFK. He accompanied his enthusiastic staring with spirited inquiries as to whether I had a boyfriend (I lied and said yes) and half-jokingly threatening to kidnap me. He also seized my hand on no less than three occasions, and held it there, squeezing rather uncomfortably, for multiple minutes. Awkward. So much for sleeping on the way there.

I flew JetBlue, which is always a pleasant experience. The ride was made even better by three things: 1) There was no passenger in the center seat, so I could put all my shit under theirs, thus enabling even MORE leg room for my 38″ inseam; 2) The guy sitting in the aisle was not only an attractive Public Policy grad student at Princeton, but he also knew when to shut up and let me sleep; and 3) my generic dimenhydrine knocked me out cold for 90% of my flight. Which arrived a half an hour early. That’s a quality travel experience, if you ask me.

Computer Repairs

I got home to discover that my new laptop screen was waiting on the doorstep. Not a bad welcome present, needless to say. I was feeling braver than normal, so I audaciously got out a screw driver and started taking the old screen out. Considering that the only instruction I’d recieved was several months earlier and consisted of “take out the screws,” it’s a miracle I didn’t break anything. I also managed not to lose any of said screws, which is pretty impressive considering how damn tiny they are. All in all, a half hour later I plugged in my computer and for the first time in 5 months, the screen worked! That’s right, I’m actually writing this from the comfort of my own computer. About bloody time. 

Oakland

Though I don’t technically start work until Monday, I’m headed to Oakland early tomorrow to attend a meeting, fill out paperwork, and, inexplicably, see a nurse. Apparently to be employed by this organization you now have to go touch your toes and extend various limbs for a license healthcare practicioner. I definitely didn’t have to do this last year. Whatever. It’s employment, and considering the current economic climate, I’ve got no cause to complain.

Wine-y Wednesday

Welcome to the perennial first-row gawker, Niagara edition. Later on, I’ll post my thoughts about weddings and detroit and the like. Right now, I only have enough concentration to discuss today.

Some background information: 1. I don’t know much about wine.

2. I’m a terrible Tourist. Really. All the crap they make for tourists? I hate it. I had to be dragged to niagara falls. Literally.

3. As a result, yesterday (the tourist day) was not-so-fun.

4. I’m sort of obsessed with nature.

With that in mind, here’s why today was awesome:

We (my illustrious mother and I) started with a breakfast in our hotel, the Old Stone Inn. This place is growing on me. The free breakfast is better now that the waiter knows we tip, so it wasn’t ice cold, and the potatoes were delicious, rather than blackened and disgusting. This was a pleasant and welcome surprise. The staff has been uniformly helpful, if not particularly knowledgeable about anything I care about. No matter, they aren’t afraid of telephones, which makes them better people than me.

On the way to Niagara-by-the-Lake, we stopped at Niagara Glen. This was a very good idea. As previously mentioned, I really like nature. Prior to this vacation, I had been going (somewhat grudgingly, but with general willingness and eventual pleasure) on hikes every morning. I always forget how much nature refuels me until I’m there and suddenly I remember what it feels like to be a human being who doesn’t despise the majority of the world. Niagara Glen is beautiful. You go through a thickly wooded area, you can see rapids, there are butterflies everywhere, it’s amazing. You should go.

Then came the highlight of the day: Wine Tasting! The Niagara wine route doesn’t get much press because it’s sort of up-and-coming, but it was covered in a recent Wine Spectator, so I thought we’d check out a few of the wineries listed there, and then some of those I’d heard recommended around town. My review, per winery (in order of visit), follows:

Reif: At Reif we sampled a Chardonnay, a Laguz, a Sowhilo, a Cabernet Sauvignon and a Merlot reserve. I’m not a huge fan of whites, but even with this many samples, the only wine I was really interested in at all was the Sowhilo, which I found peppery and at least vaguely interesting. Overall impression was Eh, though maybe that’s because it was 11:30 am. On the other hand, the first taste per person was free. Which is sweet.

Stratus: So at this point, I decided it might be a good idea to pull out my Wine Spectator article and see what was actually recommended, rather than trying to run off of my memory. This was a good idea, since this led me to Stratus, which was good, because by far and away Stratus was my favorite winery of the day. No contest. We chose the 3 wine flight for $10 (though the lady who assisted us, discovering that we had never tried ice wine, actually ended up giving us 4. We tried the 2005 Stratus Red, the 2006 Geurztraminer, the 2007 Reisling Icewine, and the 2007 Icewine Red. It’s been something like 6 hours since we went, and my mother still won’t shut up about that Stratus Red. It’s  a blend of seven varietals, which sounds like an ungodly number, but it’s worth every one, apparently. My favorite was the Gewurztraminer. Yum. The icewines were also excellent. If this wine had wider distribution, I’d swallow the ridiculous prices and buy it all the time. Unfortunately, it’s not really all that available in the US. We’ll see what I can do with the powers of the internet.

Jackson Briggs: We went here for the tour. It was informative, the building is really cool looking, and I liked the staff. I have nothing to say about the wines. I didn’t like either white (I think one was a Chardonnay and one was something else) at all, and the red was sort of flat and unexciting. Whatever, I got my tour, and it was cool. Points for architecture.

Lailey: This one was pretty small, but the people over at Stratus sent us, so we thought we’d give it a try. We had a Cab, a Merlot, and a Pinot. Nothing bad, nothing special. Eh.

Inniskillin: We only stayed here for a few minutes, because it was pretty crowded and I wanted to get back (I was a little worried about my mother’s ability to drive.) We sampled their super crazy italian gold medal winning reisling ice wine, and it was delicious and wonderfully sweet as expected. They’re known as the icewine people for a reason. Yum.

So yes. I’m now a happy girl, and we’re looking forward to Nature and Wine part deux tomorrow, where we head to Vineland for a few more Wine Spectator and hotel-bartender approved tastings 🙂

Oh, vacation, how I love you.

Jello Shots, MUNI, and maus haus

Jello Shots

We began the night, six girls either in college or only recently departed, squashed into a car meant for five and pretending that sipping hangar one in paper cups while parked on Haight Street in the broad daylight of 6:30 pm was covert in any conceivable way. I’d always wanted to try hangar one; I was not disappointed. Soon an hour had passed and we were in terrible danger of being late to our own event (or at least, an event that some of them were supposed to be running)  so we reluctantly exited the car and rushed down the street to Booksmith.

The party had apparently started without us. And I say that in a more literal sense than one might expect, since the store had a surprisingly festive air. It didn’t take long to discover why- the author and his tour manager had provided some… unconventional refreshments.  I found myself presented with tray after tray of tiny jello-filled cups, twinkling in their jewel colors and promising that a good time lay ahead. Also offered were:

-Mini donuts

-Mini hotdogs

-Marshmallow-and-Jujubee skewers

-Twinkies

and much much more. Apparently, as the author later mentioned, they were going for a “white trash feast.” We all approved, man. I lived up to my title as the Perennial First-Row Gawker, sat on an awkward children’s bench right in the front, and laughed a little too loudly for any normal book event, but no one seemed to care.  I may also be responsible for the bright red jello stain near the bookshelf labeled “Altered States” (yes, this actually exists- there was an entire tome on how to pass drug tests. amazing.) but that’s only speculation at this point.

MUNI

Not much to say except it was just as much of a disaster as I expected. Even as the most sober one there, I still managed to lead us onto a bus going the wrong direction TWICE. I am the epitome of talent and responsibility. Clearly.

maus haus

We finally made it to the Bottom of the Hill, a great venue out in the middle of freaking nowhere on 17th street. They were still serving burgers at 10 pm, and while I’m a newly converted vegetarian (and thus wasn’t going to eat one) I did still get to steal all of my friend’s potato chips. Because their burgers come with CHIPS but in the American sense, not the British sense. Which is a little weird, if you think about it. But good for me.

We got there just as maus haus began to play. They completely killed it. What a great show. Really really enjoyable. Of the 2 guys and 3 girls who were with me at that point, who had musical tastes ranging from country to german industrial, everyone thoroughly enjoyed the set. Which is saying something. Check them out– they have a cd coming out in october.

 

To summarize: A great night, no major disasters, and some level of sleep achieved. I love having more of a social life during week days than the weekend…