[DeTomaso] POCA Fun Rally Chronicles, Day Five

[Christopher Kimball]

Day
five, May 21:  We have arrived!

 

Thanks to the relatively short drive time for the day (only about 210
minutes) and musician-friendly breakfast hours, Donny and I got to sleep in a
little later than usual.  I had a leisurely
morning meal of waffles (finally!), juice and milk.  Donny had something probably more nutritious,
but I can’t remember what…

 

Since I’ve been averaging just under 18 miles-per-gallon throughout the
trip, I determined we could make it to San Diego in one, straight shot without
stopping for gas or restrooms which is exactly what we did.

 

The drive was very pleasant, and most of the way we had no need for
air-conditioning as we just kept our windows down.  There was another one of those weird tolls,
which I had to pay by phone once we got to the hotel.  Other than that, though, the roads were quite
good and surprisingly free from other vehicles. 
Perhaps the other drivers knew a non-toll route.

 

Of course, there were times when traffic got a bit dense, but
invariably that was because some of the drivers were a bit dense.  It never fails that some drivers are
compelled to drive slower, while in the fast lane, than the general flow of
traffic.  Then, when one finally gets a
chance to pass on the right, they notice and speed up—but only to the speed of
the person trying to pass, making passing impossible.  It’s infuriating!  At one point, there was some, dumb driver in
a red econobox driving with a very erratic speed in the fast lane; slowing down
then speeding up (kind of like what my cruise control was doing before pen
springs and duct tape—except to a much greater degree).  As we passed on the right, Donny and I
noticed the driver was texting!  Once
back in the fast lane we made sure there was plenty of distance between us and
the foolish texter.  She obviously was
oblivious, and it occurred to me how much fun it would have been to sneak up
behind her and then blast an air horn right up her tailpipe.  That would give her something to text
about!  (For those of you who are as
grammatically sensitive as I, let me apologize for the dangling preposition in
that last sentence.  It was for dramatic
purposes only, and shouldn’t be emulated by any aspiring writers.)

 

We arrived at the hotel lobby at the exact time as the party we were
planning to meet, which was a fun coincidence.

 

The hotel property is quite impressive. 
The rooms are nice, and the overall feel of the place is definitely “resort.”  We ate an early dinner at the Spring Café,
and it was great.  The term “Café” is a
bit misleading.  The restaurant had a
live pianist and a definite posh feel. 
The pianist took requests and I momentarily thought about asking her to
play Blue Suede Shoes… 

 

I had steak, a root beer float, creamed spinach, and four extra scoops
of ice cream.  Now, I know what you’re
thinking, “Why the extra scoops of ice cream?” 
Besides the obvious answer that there is no such thing as too much ice
cream, usually when I ask a waiter at a nice restaurant that normally doesn’t
have the courtesy to offer root beer floats to make one for me, their attempt
is lame.  The ratio of ice cream to root
beer is generally off, with far too much root beer compared to the requisite
amount of ice cream.  This time was no
different.  Therefore, once the float
with not enough ice cream arrived I knew I’d need more of the good stuff.  What I expected was small scoops (that’s why
I ordered four), but when they arrive they were rather huge.  This was great, because it allowed me to
create about three milkshakes instead of just one float.

 

While I was enjoying myself in culinary heaven, the others at my table were
secretly thinking how glad they were we were almost the only people in the restaurant.

 

The only odd thing that happened during dinner (other than me making
milkshakes at the table), was a phone call from my office from my executive assistant,
Julie.  Apparently, the light switch in
my office had gotten so hot it was stuck in the “on” position.  Oh, yes, and a crow had dropped dead in the
fountain outside the office door.

 

Since I’m not a conspiracy theorist, I’m going to go out on a limb here
and assume the two occurrences were not related.  

 

As far as the crow—I told Julie to call the animal control people to
see if they would like to have a dead crow for their collection.  This happened once before, and when I called
them, they told me they only wanted dead crows during certain months of the
year.  I have no idea why this is—perhaps
it coincides with election cycles or something (do any politicians ever have to
eat crow?)  When I asked what I should do
with the carcass, they told me to just throw it in a dumpster.  Makes the thought of dumpster-diving even
more distasteful, don’t you think?

 

The light switch posed a more pressing problem.  If it was hot enough to fuse the contacts, it
might be hot enough to burn down the office. 
Relying on my experience working on the intricate and delicate
mechanicals of the Pantera, I suggested Julie get a hammer and pound on the
switch to see if she could get it to turn off. 
She did, and it did.  Problem solved!  She didn’t even need duct tape.

 

After dinner we read for a while, watched a little TV, and I wrote more
in my journal--which, by the way, will be subject to a brief hiatus.  I’ll resume my reports once the Fun Rally
officially begins on Wednesday.

 

In closing this first segment, let me just say if anyone is on the
fence about attending the rally, you should definitely come.  The weather has been great—not too hot—and the
hotel is, as I mentioned, fantastic.   I hope to see you on Wednesday! 		 	   		  
-------------- next part --------------
   Day five, May 21:  We have arrived!


   Thanks to the relatively short drive time for the day (only about 210
   minutes) and musician-friendly breakfast hours, Donny and I got to
   sleep in a little later than usual.  I had a leisurely morning meal of
   waffles (finally!), juice and milk.  Donny had something probably more
   nutritious, but I cant remember what


   Since Ive been averaging just under 18 miles-per-gallon throughout the
   trip, I determined we could make it to San Diego in one, straight shot
   without stopping for gas or restrooms which is exactly what we did.


   The drive was very pleasant, and most of the way we had no need for
   air-conditioning as we just kept our windows down.  There was another
   one of those weird tolls, which I had to pay by phone once we got to
   the hotel.  Other than that, though, the roads were quite good and
   surprisingly free from other vehicles.  Perhaps the other drivers knew
   a non-toll route.


   Of course, there were times when traffic got a bit dense, but
   invariably that was because some of the drivers were a bit dense.  It
   never fails that some drivers are compelled to drive slower, while in
   the fast lane, than the general flow of traffic.  Then, when one
   finally gets a chance to pass on the right, they notice and speed upbut
   only to the speed of the person trying to pass, making passing
   impossible.  Its infuriating!  At one point, there was some, dumb
   driver in a red econobox driving with a very erratic speed in the fast
   lane; slowing down then speeding up (kind of like what my cruise
   control was doing before pen springs and duct tapeexcept to a much
   greater degree).  As we passed on the right, Donny and I noticed the
   driver was texting!  Once back in the fast lane we made sure there was
   plenty of distance between us and the foolish texter.  She obviously
   was oblivious, and it occurred to me how much fun it would have been to
   sneak up behind her and then blast an air horn right up her tailpipe.
   That would give her something to text about!  (For those of you who are
   as grammatically sensitive as I, let me apologize for the dangling
   preposition in that last sentence.  It was for dramatic purposes only,
   and shouldnt be emulated by any aspiring writers.)


   We arrived at the hotel lobby at the exact time as the party we were
   planning to meet, which was a fun coincidence.


   The hotel property is quite impressive.  The rooms are nice, and the
   overall feel of the place is definitely resort.  We ate an early dinner
   at the Spring Cafe, and it was great.  The term Cafe is a bit
   misleading.  The restaurant had a live pianist and a definite posh
   feel.  The pianist took requests and I momentarily thought about asking
   her to play Blue Suede Shoes


   I had steak, a root beer float, creamed spinach, and four extra scoops
   of ice cream.  Now, I know what youre thinking, Why the extra scoops of
   ice cream?  Besides the obvious answer that there is no such thing as
   too much ice cream, usually when I ask a waiter at a nice restaurant
   that normally doesnt have the courtesy to offer root beer floats to
   make one for me, their attempt is lame.  The ratio of ice cream to root
   beer is generally off, with far too much root beer compared to the
   requisite amount of ice cream.  This time was no different.  Therefore,
   once the float with not enough ice cream arrived I knew Id need more of
   the good stuff.  What I expected was small scoops (thats why I ordered
   four), but when they arrive they were rather huge.  This was great,
   because it allowed me to create about three milkshakes instead of just
   one float.


   While I was enjoying myself in culinary heaven, the others at my table
   were secretly thinking how glad they were we were almost the only
   people in the restaurant.


   The only odd thing that happened during dinner (other than me making
   milkshakes at the table), was a phone call from my office from my
   executive assistant, Julie.  Apparently, the light switch in my office
   had gotten so hot it was stuck in the on position.  Oh, yes, and a crow
   had dropped dead in the fountain outside the office door.


   Since Im not a conspiracy theorist, Im going to go out on a limb here
   and assume the two occurrences were not related.


   As far as the crowI told Julie to call the animal control people to see
   if they would like to have a dead crow for their collection.  This
   happened once before, and when I called them, they told me they only
   wanted dead crows during certain months of the year.  I have no idea
   why this isperhaps it coincides with election cycles or something (do
   any politicians ever have to eat crow?)  When I asked what I should do
   with the carcass, they told me to just throw it in a dumpster.  Makes
   the thought of dumpster-diving even more distasteful, dont you think?


   The light switch posed a more pressing problem.  If it was hot enough
   to fuse the contacts, it might be hot enough to burn down the office.
   Relying on my experience working on the intricate and delicate
   mechanicals of the Pantera, I suggested Julie get a hammer and pound on
   the switch to see if she could get it to turn off.  She did, and it
   did.  Problem solved!  She didnt even need duct tape.


   After dinner we read for a while, watched a little TV, and I wrote more
   in my journal--which, by the way, will be subject to a brief hiatus.
   Ill resume my reports once the Fun Rally officially begins on
   Wednesday.


   In closing this first segment, let me just say if anyone is on the
   fence about attending the rally, you should definitely come.  The
   weather has been greatnot too hotand the hotel is, as I mentioned,
   fantastic.   I hope to see you on Wednesday!