Unable to hit the Curveball

My tour buddy Alan and I departed on a red-eye flight from San Francisco to Dulles and connected to Rochester, NY arriving Thursday at 10 AM. After picking up the rental car and a quick trip to Walmart we headed to Watkins Glen powered by months of anticipation and excitement despite only having gotten an hour of sleep.

We arrived around 2 PM and after picking up our bracelets we strolled the expansive grounds in the warm sun as we were staying offsite at a hotel and didn’t have to setup camp. We chatted up other friendly fans who had also traveled from around the country and anxiously awaited the band’s soundcheck.

When 5 PM passed, Alan and I tired of standing in the heat, opted to further explore the campgrounds and see if we ran into any friends. After a quick loop we returned to one of the main roads to find the other festival goers walking away from the entrance and overheard ‘This is worse than Coventry’. We both assumed this was a severe over reaction to the soundcheck being cancelled but then soon heard grumblings to check phish.com for the announcement that the festival had been cancelled due to unclean water in the area and at the festival. After confirming the news we stood stunned, in disbelief that Christmas had been cancelled. Not even being able to comprehend how the event we had traveled to from across the country had been nixed at the 11th hour.

Curveball was to only be my 2^nd festival since Big Cypress 18 years earlier. I’d opted to break my streak of 4 consecutive Dick’s runs to attend. The first night was to be Alan’s 100^th show and it was his first festival since Coventry.

Festival Phish is special Phish. The afternoon set. The secret late night ambient set. The art. The Ferris wheel. The fan game shows. Immersing yourself in what you love with others who share the same passion for 72 hours. I was really looking forward to finally meeting many people I'd engaged with on Twitter in person and none of it was going to happen.

We wondered aimlessly for the next hour or two and stopped to bum beers from another fan John who had driven up 17+ hours solo from Jacksonville, FL. We've since learned there fans traveled from as far away as Alaska, South Korea, New Zealand and Germany. Some had even driven cross-country making our 12 hours of travel seem easy. 

We eventually made our way to friends in the RV lot where we ate, partied and commiserated trying to figure out how to spend the next 3 days.

After sleeping on it we decided to still try and make the most of the weekend and visited the Watkins Glen State Park and Gorge, enjoying the hike to the waterfalls followed by a swim in the park pool. We chatted and shared stories with other fans in a downtown Watkins Glen pub over a beer and then headed East to Cooperstown to visit the Baseball Hall of Fame which Alan – a huge baseball fan had never been to. That night we stayed in a rural, kitschy hotel/boarding house - meeting a number of interesting people - most of whom had heard about the cancellation and expressed their condolences. We enjoyed fireside drinks with a lake view followed by a delicious seafood meal before seeking shelter while a massive thunderstorm passed through. Living my entire life on the west coast, thunderstorms just aren't something you get to experience.

Saturday we spent a memorable 5 straight hours soaking in the Hall of Fame and the history of baseball providing a temporary reprieve over our disappointment and inability to hit (a) Curveball. Bar far the highlight of the weekend and a once in a life-time experience and one that we will remember for a lifetime.

Next we headed south for a surprise visit with my in-laws in New Jersey – hiking, swimming, riding their zip line and dining at the family restaurant and pub before flying home Sunday night.

The situation was unfortunate and a massive disappointment but we made the most of it and won’t be deterred from attending the next festival. 

-@blazeonbob & @alanstern7 #alanandbobnotatcurveball

Now When I Think Back on You, Walfredo

On April 1st of this year I received one of those devastating phone calls out of the blue that our dear friend Adam Berger was suddenly gone. Adam and I had been friends for about 14 years after meeting in San Francisco bonding over a shared love of live music, particularly Phish. Everyone in our crew seems to have a unique story about how they met Adam - online trading Phish shows on eTree or buying one of his Divided Sky/North Face t-shirts in the lot before a show. The classic Berger story told by our mutual friend Tony describes them meeting outside of the Last Day Saloon in SF, his VW Jetta packed with all his belongings after relocating from Chicago to SF. He didn't even stop to unpack his car, he went straight to a show.

Not only did Adam enjoy seeing live shows he played guitar and could captivate a room

with his singing and playing. He led many a late night sing-along covering Phish, Dead, Ween and many other classics. The Juicy Fruit theme song and Wham's 'Faith' were personal favorites of mine.

He eventually formed the band 'Flakjak' with other friends from San Francisco where they gigged at Irelands 32, Broadway Studios and the legendary Franklin St. moving out party where they played until about 3 AM. In addition to many original songs they of course covered a lot of Phish.

Back then Adam made his living as a web developer. To channel and promote his passion for live music and Phish he used his web skills to create www.walfredo.com, a fan site where he shared photos he had taken at shows as well as links to Phish and other live music news. Because of this he eventually became known in phan circles as Walfredo.

As most phans know, Walfredo is an original song they wrote about Walfredo Reyes, Jr., the drummer for Santana among other bands they had interacted with many times over the years. What makes the song unique is that the each band member plays a different instrument than they usually play.

Although it's no longer available on his site, Adam had transcribed an interview he had with Walfredo and I distinctly remember him telling Walfredo that it was one of his favorite Phish songs because it showcased Phish's versatility as musicians and their sense of humor. (BTW: How meta is that? Walfredo talking to Walfredo about the song Walfredo.) The stars ultimately aligned on 6/27/10 at Merriweather Post Pavilion in Maryland when Phish played Walfredo with Adam in attendance. Phish has not played the song since.

As a tribute and celebration of Adam, we'd love to see the boys swap their instruments and play Walfredo in Adam's adopted hometown of San Francisco.

Listen to Walfredo from 9.30.00 - Las Vegas.

100 Hours

Five days a week I leave our house first thing in the morning and head into San Francisco on the commuter bus to my software job and don’t return until 5 or 6 PM. My wife Amie stays at home to care for our daughters - 4 year old daughter Charlotte and 16 month old Abby. In addition to taking care of the kids, she also somehow manages to run her own personal training and nutrition consulting business without any childcare. Neither of our families lives nearby so it’s just us – but mostly Amie taking care of the kids and running the household.

Last week she had to leave town to attend the funeral for her grandfather (R.I.P. Fredrick Ahlers) so I had to take a couple of days of work off and be a stay at home dad for 4 full days and nights. This was a fairly big deal in our household considering Amie had only spent one night away from the family since the birth of Abby almost a year and a half ago.

Amie took off on a Wednesday night red-eye flight and wouldn’t return until late night on Sunday night so my ‘shift’ would be about 100 hours. I got psyched up by watching the classic 80’s movie Mr. Mom and googling ‘Stay at Home Dad’ which results provided all types of resources and suggestions for surviving staying at home with your kids. I gave myself inspirational pep talks while looking in the mirror and saying things like ‘You da man!’ and ‘You got this!’ in between karate kicks and chops a la Mark Wahlberg in Boogie Nights.

Amie did all of the shopping and prepped all the meals in advance so I wouldn’t have to go to the store except maybe to pick up some milk. No problem! I got this!

I made it through the first night ok only having to get up once to comfort Abby and give her a little milk to get her to fall back asleep. In the AM, I got Charlotte to pre-school on time with limited drama and made it to story time at the library and to the park with Abby. This is easy!

I got Abby down for her nap before Charlotte got home from school and once Charlotte was down for her rest I thought ‘Bob Time!’ when I could finally eat some lunch and get caught up with the dishes and then maybe squeeze in my own power nap. A minute into making my lunch I hear the ‘Wahhhhhhhh!!!!!!’ blare from the baby monitor signaling the end of Abby’s short-lived nap. I tried to get her back to sleep but to no avail. I had no luck finishing my lunch as Abby cried whenever I set her down. So much for eating!

The next few days played out like the movie Groundhog Day: interrupted sleep, breakfast, activity, lunch, naps, activity, dinner, baths, interrupted sleep with dishes, cleaning and laundry mixed in whenever I could keep Abby distracted for a for a few minutes. As the days went on, I was more lenient with Charlotte on my iPad and TV viewing and my standards for what constituted a meal got progressively lower.

By Sunday night you could stick a fork in me because I was done. I looked in the mirror and I was still wearing the same drool covered clothes I’d slept in, I hadn’t showered and my hair looked like I had just woken up. I finally put two and two together and realized that’s probably why my neighbor was looking at me funny earlier in the day when I was chatting with them outside.

Those four days confirmed a few things for me. 1) Going to work is a piece of cake compared to staying home to take care of your kids.  2) It’s easy to take parenting shortcuts and takes real discipline, effort and complete selflessness to raise your kids the right away. 3) Lastly, and most importantly I have no idea how my wife does this every day. Where does she get the boundless energy and endless patience to simultaneously run a business, raise two children and maintain a household? If she could bottle it up and sell it we would be millionaires. I’m a lucky man.

To Amie and all other stay at home parents – I commend you!

Monday US Open Practice Round

Took the day off today to attend the US Open practice round at the storied Olympic Club in San Francisco. Some thoughts, tips if you are attending and pics from the day:

• With Geoff Olgilvy's unshaven mug, red eyes and porn stash he'd fit in nicely with the rif raff on Hyde and Turk
• War Eagle Jason Dufner chews Copenhagen. Yeah - I'm shocked too.
• Rickey Fowler = good guy - he signed autographs for 15-20 minutes.
• Signing autographs is hard work. I've got a whole new appreciation for anyone that does. Fowler's caddy worked crowd control, item runner and ensured the kids got signed all while still holding the 45 lb. tour bag.
• Ever since Chris Mullin gave me dagger eyes when I asked for his autograph while he was on the elliptical in the Cal Poly gym, I've never been into autographs however I had Steve Stricker sign my ground pass. You can tell Stricker is good people.
• No other spectator sports requires more walking. All told I walked 23,000+ steps yesterday. That's right. I counted them.
• If you want to go to a practice round Tuesday or Wednesday. Don't but a ticket in advance. You should be able to get alone below face on the shuttle in or outside of will call.
• If you need to meet someone, meet them at the Information booth which is in the main concessions/promotions/area right after you enter through the main admissions gate
• Stand at the top of the bleachers behind the 18th green and you've got a great view of  18, the 8th green and the 9th tee.
• Local Ohio pro Dennis Miller, who qualified locally was wearing a Niners hat. Great way to get the local crowd behind you.

My Picks

• Sentimental Picks: 1) Michael Allen - Champions Tour Player and long-time Olympic Club Member who qualified 2) Phil - Still hoping that he redeems himself for his collapse in 08' at Winged Foot
• Realistic - Steve Stricker, Lee Westwood, Luke Donald, Tiger

Click here to view some photos of Monday's practice round

Ball Game

My dad started taking my brother and I to see Giants games at the 'Stick in the late 70's/early 80's. We'd drive up the Peninsula on 101 in his 68' VW Westphalia bus and park in the massive, sparsely populated parking lot and then venture inside to his company seats which were in the lower level about 25 rows up from 3rd base. I vividly remember him buying beers for about $1.75 each from the vendor who had served him and his co-workers in their section for the past 20+ years. The vendor would pop open 4 Bud long necks and pour them 2 at a time with each hand into paper cups while continuing to advertise 'BEER HERE!' at the top of his lungs. These experiences left an indelible memory, turned me into a die-hard Giants fan for life and undoubtedly contributed to my love of beer.

Flash forward 30 years to this past weekend and I was taking my own 3 year old daughter Charlotte to AT&T Park to see our second game together and probably the first one she’ll remember. Her first was when she was less than a year old, still not walking and not really talking so it wasn’t quite the same thing. I found out I had landed my Club Level work seats a week earlier so there was a week of buildup and excitement until the Sunday day game. Charlotte was already planning what she wanted to eat at the game which included a hot dog, pizza and ice cream.

It was a gorgeous, mid-70’s, cloud free day as we left Novato to catch the Larkspur Ferry to the park. After boarding the ferry we found some seats and had a snack before moving outside to see the gorgeous views of Belvedere, Angel Island and the Golden Gate Bridge. Upon pulling into McCovey Cove and docking I carried Charlotte so she could get a view of her surroundings from above. When you are only 3 ft. tall and walking in a crowd you’ve got a view of nothing but butts so she’s was usually either on my shoulders or I’m carrying her.

Charlotte digging her dog.

We hustled to the park entrance so we could get Charlotte one of the braided rope Giants necklaces that were given out. She wore it briefly but it quickly came off, most likely because it’s not pink.  She couldn’t contain her excitement as she handed her ticket at the gate before proceeding to walk directly underneath the turnstile. After making our way to our seats 30 minutes before the first pitch, the first thing Charlotte wanted to so was eat. We hit the Doggie Diner, got her a hot dog with a lot of mustard and ketchup and returned to her seats where she enjoyed her dog leaving half the condiments on her face. Immediately after finishing her dog she then proceeded to ask for ice cream every two minutes as vendor after vendor walked up our aisle.

We spent the middle innings doing a lap around the park by way of the arcade in right field above McCovey Cove, checked out the Coke bottle slide, the Little Giants Park and the Dugout Store where I got her a pink souvenir ‘Princess’ Giants hat. I’m old school and would have preferred the straight black SF Giants hat but I was happy to compromise.

By the 9^th inning, Charlotte was starting to look pretty beat so we headed towards the exit to get the jump on the crowd and the line for the ferry. With 2 outs, the batter fouled off pitch after pitch before finally singling to tie the game. I audibly groaned knowing that this meant the game was extended and would possibly go into extra innings and since we had taken the ferry and didn’t leave until 45 minutes after the last pitch. However, Charlotte and the Giants rallied and eventually won in extra innings. We made our ferry and Charlotte didn’t pass out until the car rode home from the ferry. It was a memorable day and the first of many father/daughter games I’m sure we’ll attend.  Maybe someday she’ll write about taking the ferry to Giants games with me, eating pizza and ice cream and how I used to spend $9.75 for a beer. 


Some more pics from the Day:

The Bleachers

Charlotte's New Lid

Charlotte and Willie

View from our seats

Memories of Jim on his birthday

Jim would have have been 39 today. It's weird to think of him in terms of that age since I never saw him make it to 30.  I think about Jim all the time and wonder if he would have settled down by now, gotten married and had any kids. Where would he live and what would he be doing for a living? That's one of the many tragedies of passing on young - all the unanswered questions about what would have been that we'll never have the answers to.


One thing I know for sure is that Jim (aka 'Jimmy' to his family and 'Santana' to most everyone else) was a super smart, talented, funny ass kid who was one of my best my best friends in high school and college even though we never went to the same schools.  I met Jim through Anthony who had been best friends with Jim through grade school and we bonded over playing golf, listening to Pink Floyd and generally just 'weirding out'. One of our favorite pastimes was trying to come up with phrases or sentences that no one had ever said. One of Jim's that I've never forgotten - "you eat birds for pendulum swings". Still to this day, I bet no one has ever uttered that phrase. (Make one one yourself it's fun!) Another time he gave me a mix tape and labelled it "The SkIttlefish Outtakes'. To this day I still have no idea WTF a SkIttlefish is.

One of my favorite Jim stories was about the time in high school over Spring Break we drove to San Diego in his GTI (who will ever forget the 'GTI4JIM' vanity plates) and visited his sister Jenny at San Diego State. We then took a day trip to Tijuana where we proceeded to be taken advantage of and over-served by the locals resulting in myself getting detained at the border. This resulted in a border patrol officer making an infamous call to my mom at dinner time and asking 'Do you know that your 17 year old son is drunk and trying to enter into the US from Mexico?' I suppose that's more of a story about myself rather than Jim but he was there and got us home safely so it's a Jim story alright!. The following day when I was still nursing a wicked hangover we went on a hike where I took this picture which has since taken on new meaning.


Another fond memory was road tripping to LA in a beat up white panel van with no AC in the middle of the summer and singing along to the Red Hot Chili Peppers 'City of Angels' as we rolled into LA. (who hasn't sang that song driving around LA?) We were big on the sing-a-long - and enjoyed swapping out the real lyrics with our on non-sense. (see "weirding out" above)

I'll never forget the Christmas party his sisters threw at his house where again I was over-served Jello shots, Goldschlager and Jagermeister. The night ended with Jim and I wrestling/hugging/crashing into his mom's rose bushes on his front lawn while his mom screamed 'not in my roses!' in front of everyone at the party and my my dad who was there to pick me up.


I attended my first Grateful Dead concert with Jim - well kind of anyways - a 3rd party that won't be mentioned here (name begins with A, ends with Y and rhymes with 'Manthony' couldn't handle himself and decided he had to get out of there before the show even started. We had no choice but to leave and if you've ever tried to exit Shoreline Amphitheater BEFORE a concert when everyone is coming in, you know that's no easy task. We miraculously made it out with the help of a long haired hippie appearing out of no where to open a gate freeing us and my VW bus from the lot.

Jim was a Renaissance man. Double major in Poly Sci and Spanish, tennis and baseball player, golfer, caddy, barista, cook for a sorority in college (talk about an enviable position), grocery clerk and purveyor of fine men's clothing from Nordstrom's and Bloomingdales. He loved animals and worked at a veterinary hospital in San Francisco .


For someone of smaller stature, Jim could eat. I once saw him eat 2 Jack in the Box "Colossus" which each included 2 burgers, 4 slices of cheese and 8 pieces of bacon. He loved eggs and could eat a dozen in a sitting. A 10 pack of Taco Bell tacos would barely put  a dent in his hunger.

If I had to guess what Jim would be up to, I'd say he'd be living in Southern California close to a beach, working as a teacher and would have a wife and a kid or 2. He would still be playing golf, tennis and would still love to eat but I bet he'd be living a healthy lifestyle, eating right and doing yogi. We'd get together every year to play some golf, maybe see a Phish show and pick up 'weirding out' like we'd done 25 years earlier. Happy Birthday Jim. 

STUFF

Young kids are small and generally don’t take up a lot of space however their STUFF sure does. No one told me that when you have 2 young children, not only do you need a bed, a crib, a couple of dressers, a bookcase etc. but you also have to dedicate half of your living room and garage to storing multiple strollers (a BOB, a double stroller, a fold up), a swing, multiple exer-saucers, activity tables, many boxes of clothes, tricycles, wagons, and scooters.

Prior to having our two daughters (Charlotte 3 and Abby 7 months), we lived in a San Francisco apartment that had 3 small closets so moving into a home in Novato with 3 times as much storage and a 2 car garage was storage Shangri Lai. My wife Amie had already begun to acquire baby and kid related STUFF while she was pregnant with Charlotte. Apparently people really like it if you take stuff off their hands. They’ll often give it to you free and sometimes even drop it off. I now see why.

Once Charlotte began to outgrow her infant and toddler clothes, toys and crib – everything eventually accumulated on one side of our garage. If you needed to get to something from that side of the garage, it was like playing a game of Tetris as you moved and restacked boxes and oddly shaped objects to clear a path. Any attempt at organizing the garage was an exercise in futility. I always like to say that I’m up against the First Law of Thermodynamics which I’m pretty sure states that no stuff is created or destroyed – it just gets moved around.

Finally, I caved and got a storage unit. Now that I’ve got one, its $66 a month I consider well spent for a couple of reasons. It provides more room to put our STUFF and most importantly, trips there with 3 year Charlotte is some of the best Father/Daughter time we spend. She loves it and it’s one of her favorite things to do. First, we get to drive there in our VW Van and she’s a huge fan of the van. When we get there, we to go into the office and get a wheeled cart and she gets a lollipop which couldn’t make her more excited. Next, we load up the cart with our STUFF and squeeze Charlotte on there as well and go inside which requires entering a passcode to access the building. One of Charlotte’s favorite hobbies is pressing buttons so keying in a 7 number code is about as exciting as it gets. Once we’re inside, we’ve got to take an elevator up the 2nd floor so you know what that means. Bonus buttons! Once we reach the unit and open it up, it’s like Christmas morning for her as she’s reunited with all of her old pink plastic horsey and shopping cart. Her toys keep her occupied while I search for and swap out the STUFF. If she’s lucky, we need to make more than one trip which means more buttons and more cart rides.

At the end of the day I’m usually bringing home as much STUFF as I brought – remember the First Law of Thermodynamics – but at least it makes me feel like I’m winning the battle against the STUFF and reclaimed some of our garage back while spending some quality time with my daughter.