Hoop Dreams

This morning we got to the pool area for mai tais and breakfast and the pool hoop wasn't there...this is a problem.
Well to our gregarious applause, the help brought a new one out. And hoops ensued.
Now once again blogging from the lounge chair - feet out, belly big watching old ladies with globs of sunscreen in weird places and hot young things trying out the best Hills face expressions.

Not to mention the hundreds of dolphin and flying tuna that just passed by.

P.S. I don't think anyone wants any of these hoops skills Juco and I are airing out. We run the pool-court.

"Mai Tai. And Can You Take This to the Brunette in the black bikini?"

Wow day two and I could feel further away from reality except for that I'm publishing this from a lounge chair between the pool and the ocean at Marriott Vacation Club in Ka'anapoli, just outside of Lahaina, meaning 'soft sun' or 'dry sun' with reference to the hot months and dry heat that blanket this corner of the island.

I just got rez's for KIMO's on Front street tonight for MJ an I, and hoping Jules and Davie can make it here in time for the ensueing fun.

Well cocktails are not far off and ziplines planned for tomorrow. Mahalo.

Red Bull Gives You Wings and a Damn Good Time

D Dresti really came through big last weekend. It wasn't that he hooked up a shuttle from Santa Clara to San Fran. It wasn't that we were rollin' to the Red Bull Soap Box derby. No no - it was the sticky sweet hotel room at the Nikko for the weekend and the VIP treatment I got for impersenating an NC Boardshop rep.

Yea, that's right. I think they call that baller. So I was ballin' last weekend in the cit and Red Bull picked up the bill. How ya' like me now! I really didn't know what I was getting myself into, but the letters V-I-P together sound like something that I am in to. Sandi was in the city too, so it was just another hot item to the weekend and a strong reason to head up there.

So I jetted out of work and headed up to the city on the 280 - one of my favorite drives in Cali. 101 is a dump. So I hustled up there and pulled into the valet. I strolled into the hotel with some cuty Red Bull reps behind me wearing there Juicy valure jogging suits a did up with their fake tans, big hair and bigger sunglasses.

Went to the coutner, showed my ID..."Ah, Mr. Brassfield, we've been expecting you and I believe we have a package for you." Man! did I feel important. I was definitely putting on the cool swagger for the ladies in the room and I think I even took my crackberry out and pushed a few buttons like I had some important message when really I just moved the cursor around a few icons and checked the time. But I bet I looked really good. No, I know I did.

The room was nice, a smoking floor which worked out okay for the late night crawls back to the room. I got ready, tried on some hats and different shirts and got the call from Donovan. The plan was a private Red Bull party on the balcony at Ruby Skye, but he was running a little late to the joint. No problem. Sandi was down at Utah's and there was a killer band playing. It was good to see the Venice Girl and catch up a little on all her celeb neighbors and the fabulous life that is Sandi's. WESC all the way!

I walked my ass back up to Ruby Skye and it was pushing midnight. I told the door man I was with Red Bull and he didn't believe me. Seconds later Donovan appears at the door surrounded by attractive girls that couldn't wait to escort me into the club.

"You must be Brassy, hehehehe. Come with us." So my quick visit to heaven was packed with Grey Goose, Red Bull, some wicked dance moves and of course a bunch of Red Bull. The Red Bull girls were icing on the cake. So gitty and friendly and high on Red Bull, it was a perfect Friday. As trashed as I was, I managed to get a SF local back to the hotel...then I must have said something stupid and she realized she had no idea who I was and took off. I didn't want to share my room service with her anyways.

The next day was the big derby in Dolores Park. I was still VIPn' it and rolled downstairs to catch the shuttle to the park. 100 thousand heads packed the park and the street to watch these crazies race down a hill in there goofy cars they made. The VIP tent was no so VIP - more like vaguely important people's area, but there was free food, free water and free ice for my cocktails that JP, Nicole and I purchased at the liquor store.

Met up the MJ and Luke-dog and we kicked it real with some vodka OJ, menthols and sun everywhere. Late October and it's 75 and sunny in SF. wtf.

We hustled back to JP's house in China Basin to hang and get some dinner. His house is amazing. The views are incredible and he could give a more accurate weather report that channel 4. The place is dialed to the 9's and he doesn't even have to go outside to get to Safeway. It was good to see JP. Miss him as a neighbor.

The all day drinking didn't really get to me until we got to 1015 Folsom that night for a private Red Bull party. More Grey Goose and Red Bull waited for us upstairs and the Red Bull girls dumped a handfull of drink tickets in my pocket and off I was.

Donovan and I turned into Cuban club owners for the night and acted like the place was ours.

"Tell me, huh. Whatchoo tink uv my club uh? Nice huh? You like girls? drink? I do it for you, huh?"

The dancing never stopped. The fun never gave out. And I gained huge respect for how Red Bull runs there gigs. Loved the weekend and was completely drained, sore and a huge smile plastered on my face Sunday morning. A VIP weekend set me back less that $200 bucks and half that was in fricken parking at the hotel. Next time I'll park across the street for $20 bucks. Jeez.

I gots to run, but I'll get some pics up in here tomorrow. Holla at it.

TooLarry's House

Spurt of the moment. Fly by the seat of the pants weekend spent in the valley. The San Joaquin Valley that is. After a night of wine and some mash up conversation at CB's. Mel and I got caught up on the back patio talking about racing. Someone at the bar brought up a cousin of mine who I hadn't spoken with a quite some time.

I rang Darin a text telling him I hope it was all tranquilo and to say hello to everyone. Darin hit me back with, 'Tell them yourselves. They'll be in Tulare this weekend racing!" That was enough for me to head down to Jason's ranch for the night and kick it in Chad's pits and watch him tear it up on the oval.

I got into work about 530 am Friday morning and had to high tail it out of there to the uh, the uh, well... I had an emergency dentist appointment...at Cinnabar Hills Golf Course. Thanks for the great time Grant - Fairways and Greens!

Well, jumped in the car at 7 with Mel and we headed down south. To her knowledge, Mel thought we were headed just down the road a piece. 300 miles later and 3 1/2 hours. We showed up at the ranch with 3 bottles of Chardonnay and a long night ahead of us. All in all it was a good night. That 3rd bottle was totally unnecessary, but we did it anyways and paid for it in the AM.

We got to the TULARE County Fair Grounds around 1130 after we dropped Jason off at his bike and then we all drove to the race to meet Chad and Jared. I hadn't seen either of them in what seems like forever and A) Great to see them B) Chad was racing and took 3rd overall C) Aunt Connie and Sarah showed up and we had a Brassfield cheering section for Chad D) Jared cooked up the bbq in a smoker. Tri-Tip and Beef Ribs that melted in your mouth after their four hour cooktime.

Chad blasted around the track and was posting some of the fastest laps. There was some a-hole, the #11, that was driving like a complete douchebag and all the drivers let him have it. He knocked Chad out of the race to the back of the pack during heat 2 and under caution about 3 other drivers when up and bumped the guy. Another driver bumped him all the way off the track after the checkered flag. It was comedy, the 11 got reemed by all the drivers after the race. "Cut that driving out or you're going to get killed." That was my favorite line. To his credit the DB showed up in our pits and apologized to Chad. Good on you man.

As fast as we got down there we were back on the road to the 409 and tired as a mudafuca. I'm sad to say that I met my neighbor. No, not the regular ones - they will never talk to me. But there is a new neighbor moving in right next door. She said that one Saturday night she peeked out her window at about 3 am and fearfully spoke in her thick Irish tone, "Oh I could see smoke coming off the house and it looked like the devil was dancing." I'm not sure how accurate of pictorial she had, but I'm going to say she wasn't that far off. Maybe we can give her a little break coming up. We'll see how that goes.

Thumbs up Chad. Good drivin'!

Tahoe Express

Had to put the pic in from Edgewood. This was an unbelievably good time with the ChuckDad and my Brother.

So just to catch up on a few things. It's been busy fun for a few weeks. Tahoe with the fam was amazing. Father, #1 and #2 got out to Edgewood for a great round of golf. Well, it sucked for the first three holes since the greens are slicker than a banana peel and then the whiskey took over and things calmed down. Trully didn't hit a clean shot all day and if I did, it went in the drink. Oh well, the 19th hole was a hoot and we made it back to the hotel in time to celebrate Kaycee's birthday.

We got the hats on and the noise-makers out and had a barrell of laughs for Kaycee's birthday. Just a quick story for you all - Now most of you know my background and of the ranch. Kaycee was born on the ranch and she can pop-a-squat in a barn as good as any. Well now, she started school and the potty-training lessons aquired around the ranch don't seem to transfer over too well to the playground. Apparently it is frowned upon to drop trou by the swing set and let it go. When the teacher informed Kaycee that this was not appropriate behavior, she smiled, said, "okay, no problem," and ran back to play with the other booger noses.

Back to Tahoe. We had a good time celebrating and then Jason and I tore out to the pool table to see if we couldn't beat on some locals heads. And beat we did. I was hotter than a two dollar pistol in a bar full of cheaters. Couldn't stop the game. Some yocal that had a nose busted up so bad that his glasses wedged into his bridge wanted to play me and get in my face about pool. The bets were on and this guy got his clock cleaned and nearly his bell rung, but what do you tell a guy that's already been told a few times with someone else's fist? Just let them ramble, take their money, and head upstairs for the loud music.

Later on that night around 2 am, I found the blackjack table at Harrah's. It was hot, I was drunk and had a full pack of smokes. We call this, The Perfect Storm. Again as in pool, I was hot. Hustled up about 850 bucks over 4 dealers and then came Broomhilda. This broad looked the part of the Cooler.

She waddles her fatty up to the helm, looked at me and said, "You should take your chips and go." Well once again, me being me, that's not going to happen and I'll bet bigger to prove to her that I am a man, built of brawn and grit!

By the time I got to my last cigarette, the table had been closed to all other players but me, the drinks weren't going down as fast and the head could barely hold up, I bowed in defeat with a $5 chip left in front of me. The black 100s, the pretty pink and green 25's and the bullion of 5s had all gone back to their comfy little tray in front of the waddler. I tossed her the 5 and said have a good one. She pursed her lips and gave me the look of disgust like she was starring at her son who did nothing with his life and is a lift operator at Mt. Rose.

I was still grinning ear to ear and I thought my brother was going to have a heart attack the way I was betting, but we survived and got a couple Fat Burgers and headed back to the hotel around 5am. Too much fun crammed into 2.5 days put a hurtin' on me the following week, but I'll sleep when I'm 70.

A few days later I got back in the kitchen to whip up the goods again. Mel and I pieced together I nice little delight of two different styles of New Yorks, some drumsticks, homemade corn bread and green beans to tie the healthy side into the meal. Always a good dinner with Mel.

So i'll cut the chord here and say I'm headed to Tulare to watch my cousin race this weekend. Staying at the ranch tonight, but not without firing off the tee at Cinnabar Hills in a golf tournament this great Friday. That's right. I'm in the office at 5am, it's now 6:30, and I'm going to join my buddies Pearl and GA for some big timin' on the beautiful blue-green fairways of CHGC.

I'll be back with pics from the racing. Carry on.

Care Too Much

It is with an entrenched heart that I write this latest entry and I am buggered by own self that I haven't been here lately and this is how I come back.

But it is my way of remembering.

This morning a friend and colleague's daughter took her last breath here on earth. Peyton lost a long-fought battle with a brain tumor.

This angel on earth fought long and hard, had good times and bad and there family has been outstandingly strong throughout. All my love and strength is poured out to you, the Rudd family, on this day and forevermore.

I'll make this short, but all I know or have learned on this planet is that there is only one shot here. - One chance to be the best you can be. One shot to love those closest to you and also those furthest from you. Be gentle with friends and family. Be patient, kind, respectful and loving because this is all we really have in the end. Your materials will not be there, your ego will cower, but the embrace of a loved one can cure even the darkest decent.

Rest in the arms of an angel Peyton.