I am heading out tomorrow on a two-week journey, my usual January journey up the coast, the final stop being the Unified Grape Symposium in Sacramento, a trade show overrun with not only winemakers but also cellar rats and vineyard workers. One of the coolest thing about this show is, some of the seminars are presented in Spanish, because, hello, who do you think tends the vines in this great State?

First though, I am spending the weekend in Arcadia, and hitting the Santa Anita racetrack for two whole days with my friend Nancy. She has never been to the races before. I LOVE Santa Anita… it’s a world-class track. This weekend, it’ll be clear skies, we’ll be able to see the normally smog-obscured mountains, and drink some overpriced Pinot Grigio at the Uber-bar there. Someone won the pick-six today, so there is no carryover, but heck, who am I kidding? I’ll be lucky to win one race.

My grandparents saw Seabiscuit run on one of their first dates. My mom told Nancy, never bet on a sweaty horse. I will always bet on the horse with a foodie name. Learned my lesson at Del Mar last summer when a longshot, Habanero, came in and I didn’t bet on her. That was (in a long history of racing fuck-ups) the stupidest bet I didn’t make.

I am a little bummed I am not going to see the Arcade Fire in one of their many SoCal shows this weekend. Especially because I listen to their record constantly, and dream their music when I am asleep. But oh well. Nancy, the Golden Globes, and a take-out pizza will make me forget what I am missing (hopefully.)

It’s going to be a riotous weekend, and from there I hit the road and head to the Central Coast, working all day and then at 4:00, having a taste or two. Working up there doesn’t suck.

Next weekend, am taking a class with the famous Diva up in Sonoma. After that there will be a Slowtrav party, always a good time. I’m heading down to my hometown after, will chill with my brother Jay and his wife for a day, then start working again.

The weather is fantastic. I am hoping for no more rain. I am SICK OF RAIN. No more rain, please. For awhile there, it was reminding me of Venice, where in March 2001 it rained every single day. Only here, palm fronds might fall on your head, instead of decaying plaster.

I’ll try to write from the wine-soaked road.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 14th, 2005 at 7:35 pm and is filed under How do we all stay grounded when the world is spinning. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.