Lindsay vs. Megan -- Five Years Ago

Lindsay and Megan in a dance-off; sort of.

One Night in Morrison

On Saturday night, I ventured up to Morrison.  No, it was not to see a show at Red Rocks or to hang at the Speedway.  I was going to a wine competition.  The competition was at an attorney’s house and was a fundraiser.  Each guest was to bring a bottle and pay a $5 fee.  The bottle was put in a brown paper bag and then people would taste it and score it.  Ultimately each voter was to pick his/her favorite wine.

I thought this would last a couple of hours max.  The first indication that this was something more came as I drove up to the house.  It was in a development across the street from Red Rocks Country Club.  There were actual red rocks in the development.  As  I came near the house, I saw a string of cars and parked about a 1/4 mile away.  I saw this one gorgeous house with people on a stunning deck looking at the incredible city views.  I soon discovered that this gorgeous house was where the party was.  When I entered, I was in for another surprise.  This house was a modernist masterpiece in rustic Colorado.  Fine art adorned the walls; the finest of wood for the wooden floors; sub-zero appliances in the kitchen; stone sinks in the guest bathroom; two decks and a patio area.  Well, you get the idea.

There were about 80 people in all and for the first hour we had wines and heavy hors’d’oeurves.  Yes, the drinking would contaminate our palettes but no one seemed to care.  How could you care with a a jazz band playing in the background and the finest in catered food.

The people were incredibly friendly.  A New Yorker who worked on a hedge fund and his real estate broker wife (they flew in from Manhattan for this).  Neighbors who ran their own businesses when they were not golfing at the country club.  An attractive blonde who met the host at a wine event a couple of weeks ago.  The ages ranged from twenty-something to sixty-something and they all mixed well.  I even ran into an old associate from Acme Law.

After a couple of drinks, the tasting began.  46 wines in all.  I did not try all of them but did try most.  I, of course, heeded the host’s requests to take small pours, but others were pouring like it was grape juice.  The white wines were almost universally avoided. Chatter about the best wines abounded.  I sought to verify my choices with the wine experts I had identified.  Everyone submitted a ballot.  Much to my shock, there was only one high end wine in the top 4 (high-end is a relative term since there was a $35 limit on the bottle) – a Malbec (the one I had picked).  There were a couple of shiraz wines in 2nd and 3rd – one brought by one of the wine experts I had identified.  The winner was not a classic by any means – in fact, its sensationalist name, Ménage-a-trois, a not-so-subtle indication of its quality.  The winner had actually finished last in the competition last year.

Now, it was time for the worst wine.  The results left a funny feeling in my stomach; what happens if my wine was adjudged the worst?  But I had picked a Spanish Alicante wine which was rated between 88-95 by various sources, and Spanish wines were fast becoming the equal of many of their French counterparts.  Sure enough, my wine was picked the worst.  I had to acknowledge who I was and walk up to the front.  At least there was a consolation prize, a wine from the host’s cellar and a hope that I could pull a last-to-first next year.  After getting some ribbing from a fellow lawyer I knew – the one who brought the Shiraz, I quickly picked up some pointers for next year.  First, focus on crowd-pleasers not quality; the year before a Yellow Tail won (beating out among others a French Burgundy).  Two, select a blend so that you are bound to hit on someone’s taste palette.  Finally, secretly promote your own wine.  The guy who came in second, and apparently has placed every year, was going around saying Wine 11 was the best.  Guess what? Wine 11 was his wine.  Once the buzz was created, it self-perpetuated.  Next year, I should bring a really low-quality wine and create some buzz about it and see if I do better.

At any rate, I got a chance to drown my sorrows in fine wine as the host broke out some fine wines in his cellar including some $100 plus bottles.  Of course, having the best wine at the end is somewhat counter-productive as people would not appreciate it as much.  Next came “Club Snoopy” (named after the hosts’ dog; name of dog changed to protect the innocent).  I was excited because the dj was going to be from NYC.  I thought given the band, that this dj would also be a professional.  Turns out it was the real estate broker with an iPod.  Nevertheless she played some good music – old school hip-hop, MJ tributes, and some Kid Rock (ok, maybe not all was good).  The “club” was in the hosts’ home theater room with an incredible sound system.  The female-to-male ratio was 2:1 and while many of the females were coupled up throughout the party, they did not act that way on the floor particularly these two thirty-something women in baby doll summer dresses.  They were barefoot and gyrating around the room and then gyrating with their date.  I was dancing with a cougar (remember that cougar could be a relative definition based on the age of the prey; for instance a cougar for my age would be in the 60s – and amazingly enough most of my readers of my blog on another site are in that age range – but I define cougar in the more common sense, i.e., a 40-something).  I should have been more flirtatious but I had taken a Chaser Plus earlier on and that always seems to inhibit my ability to get a buzz.  So I just danced away blowing my chance.  But there is always next year – both for my chances with the cougar and with the wine competition. I left at midnight, my ball had ended, and I had to return to the real world.

MJ: A Conflicted Legacy

While we celebrate the memory of MJ as an artist, it is hard not to think of his eccentricities in life.  If it was just eccentric behavior there would be no lasting tarnish.  But it is hard for me to eliminate the doubts raised by the numerous molestation allegations.  True, we can infer nothing from his “settlements” of the claims and, yes, he was not found guilty of anything, but his willingness to pay millions to end these cases stretches beyond the realm of litigation avoidance.  Somehow I suspect that after the immediacy of his death wears off, information will start to seep out, and maybe one day a rudimentary take on the puzzle will develop.  And while it may not corroborate the claims, it may raise serious concerns.  Because there was something not right in Neverland.

Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

While aware of the band, I had not heard a song by them until they appeared on Saturday Night Live this spring.  I was floored.  Pop in its perfect form delivered with a refreshing energy.  Not only did they score a coveted music slot on SNL, they played three songs which is reserved for the best of bands. 

So, of course, when their concert was announced I decided to attend.  I got there just as they got on stage; I quickly downed two Red Stripes (no Jager for me tonight).  They started of with a bang with two of their singles.  They featured a big sound with a percussionist supplementing the drummer and three guitarists.  The sound veered to a europop dance but some rock and jammish tendencies as well.  Hard to pigeonhole their sound.

Midway through the set, a guy in front of me asks me if I would mind if he “burned one down” and after I said that I didn’t care, he politely asked all others around him; a conscientious pothead – who would have thought?  Of course, I wished there was such a thing as odorless pot as his path to nirvana left me smelling like a joint.

After the show ended, outside the Bluebird, there was one drunk guy so high from the show or the liquor he imbibed that he insisted that I high-five him and celebrate the drummer who he termed a “bad-ass” drummer.  So it was a night where there was as much entertainment from the crowd as the band.

MJ -- The Male Anna Nicole?

According to his attorney:

Most interestingly, though, Oxman says that Jackson was in fine physical condition, but that he had a very serious problem with prescription medication, and that the people that were surrounding him were enablers. Oxman went on to say, "If you think the case with Anna Nicole Smith was an abuse, it's nothing in comparison to what we have seen taking place in Michael Jackson's life."

It’s Cougar-ific

It was bound to happen; a cougar prowling in the Real World.  Real World-Cancun opened with a bang as one of the cast made out with a cougar who looked like Sharon Osbourne’s twin.  In a twist, the cougar’s daughter was in the same night club.  And in the ultimate twist, the cougar’s daughter was making out with another cast member.  Must have made for a great family dinner table discussion the next night.

Meanwhile, we had the requisite cast member with a pre-existing significant other cheating on said other.  He didn’t even last one day.  And another cast member with a significant other is on the ropes.  Moral of the story – never let your significant other go on the Real World.

Finally, they showed clips from the coming season and, of course, there will be meltdowns – both drug-induced and anger-induced.

99 Balloons

I saw this on the Today Show today. A heartbreaking story but an inspiring one as well. Today, the couple has a healthy 9 mos. old girl and the memories of a wonderful little boy.