The Blue Grotto

This Georgia Plantation Retains Its #1 Ranking as Grotto Editor's Favorite Trip of the Year!

     I was lucky enough to spend a few days down in Georgia at a good friend's family's quail hunting plantation within the past couple of weeks.  This enchanting destination is one of the very few places on Earth where I'm able to truly relax.  Plus, with an all-star group of chums like we had, it was a pants-wetting-event-a-minute experience.

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Roberta, Yours Truly, J. Doering, Mary H., Merrilee H., Trish B., and equestrian extraordinaire Juan Seitz:

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Trish and I:

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Roberta and I:

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Merrilee:

 

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Nelson, the English Cocker Spaniel, should be on that show "Dogs with Jobs".  When asked to, he races into the underbrush when a bird goes down and finds it every single time.

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Mary:

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The hostess!

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Self and Seitz:

 

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Seitz taking his pants' stitching to the limit!

 

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Johnny D. and pal:

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Merrilee visiting with Nelson:

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Nelson in the Bird Buggy.  There are a bunch of different pairs of Pointers in the back, as they tire quickly and have to be rotated in and out.

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Lunchtime at the "picnic house", many miles from the main house:

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Nelson relieving himself after another find:

 

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Thomas and Roberta:

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Roberta, Self, and Russell:

 

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Closeup of one of the excellent Pointers:

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Roberta:

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Juan:

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Roberta preparing to blast away:

   

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Doering and Seitz:

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Seitz and I practicing shooting clays at the Wobble House:

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Trish watching Roberta land another bullseye:

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Seitz and I competing:

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Johnny helping out:

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Thomas with two important members of the hunting party:

   

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Johnny:

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Trish, John, Russell, Mary, Juan, Roberta, Thomas:

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Mary and I strategizing:

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Nelson finds a quail:

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Pics from the Great Room:

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Trish relaxing:

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Seitz and ML:

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Seitz and Mary:

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Roberta, Grotto Editor, ML:

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Mary practicing:

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Roberta:

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Seitz in the latest hunting footwear:

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I think if Seitz ever climbed Mt. Everest, I'll bet that photos would show that he did it in a pair of Guccis:

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Thanks Trish!

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Here's a Cool Site for Grotto-Reading Travelers. . .

     Grotto reader, contributor and political analyst at-large, Terry B., has partnered with a fellow NYU MBA grad and a network of fellow travel/writers to start an excellent new website designed to give you everything you need for modern and original travel: www.area-daily.com. 

     Created specifically for an audience of adventurers and professionals who travel often and seek originality wherever they go, AREA is your key to authentic and contemporary places only locals and insiders seem to know about.  Get discounts and deals on travel services and invitations to exclusive events and places; and book everything straight from the web site.  It's one stop shopping for all of your travel needs.
     AREA DAILY is a free daily email with real recommendations and insider tips on the best designed hotels, innovative restaurants, must-have services and fun things to see and do around the globe.
     AREA VALET is a personal service that organizes unforgettable travel experiences for Area readers such as a Ferrari driving trip through Tuscany, front row seats at Paris Fashion Week, a chartered sailing trip through the Croatian Islands, or a personal wine making experience.
     Soon AREA will launch AREA CONNECT, an online community where members can connect and share travel tips, experiences, videos and resources, AREA TV, a video series covering the best in modern travel, AREA ONLY, a membership club that provides discounts & deals on travel services and access to exclusive events & places, and AREA GUIDES, downloadable city guides with up-to-the-minute information on where to sleep, eat, play, and relax in cities around the globe.
Sometimes its just fun to open the area-daily email to stoke your imagination, and travel far from your desk if even for just a minute! 
     GO TO www.area-daily.com AND SIGN UP TODAY, IT'S FREE!

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Fun New Year's Pics Are In!

Here's Chatterbox, hostess Trish's beautiful house:

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Approaching the little island paradise:

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Steve, Katrina, Luke, Roberta, Self, Trish, John D.:

    

Di-Di, me, Trish, Steve, Luke, and Roberta on the superyacht we chartered:

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Suz and Luke:

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Trish and Johnny on the superyacht:

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Roberta and I:

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Six total losers!

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Large, Medium, and Small:

 

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Trish and Katrina:

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Suzanne granting a photo to fans:

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Katrina and Roberta:

Trish and Di heading out for a big night:

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Suzanne and Luke at New Year's Eve dinner:

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Yours Truly and Roberta:

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John and Trish:

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Luke and Suz holding court in the V.I.P. lounge:

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Dinner at Rock House:

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On the deck at Gusty's:

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Di-Di and Roberta grooving to the tunes:

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New Year's Eve dinner at The Landing:

   

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New Year's Eve at Rock House:

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Steve and Di:

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Katrina:

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Sue, Trish, Tracy, and Alina:

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More New Year's Eve pics from Rock House:

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Johnny, Sue, and Alina:

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Suz fielding a call from the Googleplex:

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Katrina staying current with world events:

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Suz and Trish:

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Roberta and Self:

 

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John and I:

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Roberta and Suzanne:

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John and Trish:

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Suz and I:

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A couple of pint-sized local pals:

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The gals:

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Here are some pics from the Junkanoo parade:

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Here I am posing with Trish in my "Stone Crab Claw-Breaking" Outfit:

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Roberta always travels with a ski hat, which came in handy when the temp. plummeted for a couple days:

 

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Roberta, Katy, and Trish:

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Roberta and I:

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I'm reading while Katy snoozes on the second-floor deck of Chatterbox:

 

Hanging Out with the Nephews in NH. . . .

     This past weekend I spent a little bit of quality time with the nephews (Sparhawk, 4 and Rowan, 2) up in Franconia, NH at the cool old place built by an explorer ancestor of mine (he was one of those guys who raided the Egyptian pyramids, and I remember when I was little there were artifacts in the house like a mummified child's foot and a mummified baby crocodile).  He built it in the 1800s, and I think it could withstand a direct blast from a nuclear strike.  It's never been redone, but there's not a creaky board in the whole place.  Wherever you'd find a 2 x 4 in a contemporary house, this one has what look to me like 4 x 8s!  You could throw a cocktail party inside the massive fireplace.

     Anyway, we went for a mini hike:

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My brother-in-law David, Rowan, Spar, and me (note my expert form here, due to years of experience in NOT holding small children):

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Here I am with the fellas:

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The whole gang (my sister Gallaudet is at far right; her platinum hairdo should give you a clue to the fact that her votes in elections tend to cancel out her brother's. . .):

Blue Grotto Scoops "People" and "US Weekly" with Priceless Lorenz Wedding Photos!

     Mary Beth and Christopher:

   

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     The guests, a "Who's Who" of the world's most laid-back, relaxed, fun people, enjoyed a lot of time on the beautiful beach: 

 

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The groom displaying the fruits of his workout labors:

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The water was the perfect temperature:

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McKinnon and Marney:

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View from the club:

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Yours Truly and T. Brown:

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Wykoff and George:

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Letti and I:

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Darcey and Let:

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Bev doing a rare beach dance:

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Making fun of the photographer:

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Katy and Let:

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Letti, Margaret, and Katy:

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K.C. doing her own little dance:

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Lonzo:

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M.B. shows off her new suit:

 

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Alice, Terry, Me, Mo:

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Baron's had enough of the paparazzi:

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Ter and Let:

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Lindsey, Me, Letti:

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Marney, Nicole, Ed:

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Roberta and Lorenz doing an unusual, but crowd-pleasing, dance:

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The Browns:

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Prado and I:

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Katy and K.C.:

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Terry and Emily:

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Baron wondering where all his pals went:

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Jordan winning the dance-off:

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Bev and Katy:

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Katy and Seitz:

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Larry and Marney:

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Post-Reception Activities:

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Let and Jay:

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The groom:

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Chris and Terry:

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Lorenz, Jay, Terry, Me, George:

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Mary Beth showing how it's done:

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Matt and I:

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The Wadsworths and K.C.:

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Robin and Pearly:

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The Ceremony!

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Ana did some beautiful singing:

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The Sweets, Letti, Wykoff:

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Dave P. and Let:

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Kane and Marney:

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The Bird, McKinnon, and Charlie:

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Ed and Terry looking. . . umm. . . smooth:

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Group photo of Naaath Shaaaah guests:

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Jay, Mary Beth, Christopher, Wiggs:

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The groom taking a time-out:

 

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The groom after the time-out ended:

 

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L.T. and Alex:

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The brothers preparing to deliver the bride:

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Amo and Self:

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Different angle of North Shore representatives:

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The Lorenzes in mandatory Nick's-Roast-Beef-Bumper-Sticker-Photo:

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Platner and Jay:

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Wykoff, George, Jay, Ter looking macho:

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Commander Wigglesworth explains a complex aerial maneuver:

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Amo and L.T.:

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Marney and Buck:

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The newlyweds arrive at the reception:

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Dave B. and Marney:

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Buck with a Pearly:

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The Wadsworths:

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Bev (concentrating hard) and K.C. dancing:

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The Bird, McKinnon, Charlie:

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Bird and Pearly:

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Janet and Melissa:

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Katy, Jody, and Roberta striking the pose:

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The Three Sweaty Amigos:

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Margaret and Dwyer:

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Nicole, George, L.T.:

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Roberta and Jody:

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Paparazzi Teaser! Stay Tuned for Soon-To-Be-Released Chris and Mary Beth Wedding Pics!

     The weekend of September 7th saw the arrival of a fun bunch of guests at the gorgeous wedding of Chris L. and Mary Beth O'K. on this island:

 

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     The newlyweds:

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     The bride the night before:

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     The happy groom:

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I Took My Mother to Her First Red Sox Game at Fenway on Wednesday.

     My mother has become, over the past three years or so, the #1 Red Sox fan in all of New England.  I don't even bother keeping up with the team on the internet or ESPN anymore, because I know I can just ask my mother anything and she'll tell me.  Who's pitching tomorrow?  How many homers does Papi have now (not enough)?  Who's in a slump? 

     We had great seats between the on-deck circle and the Sox dugout.  It turned out to be a perfect first game for her to see.  She got to see all of her favorites hitting and fielding up close and personal:  Big Papi, Manny, Varitek, Youkilis, Lugo, Lowell, super-solid new guy Pedroia, and Coco.  And due to our come-from-behind victory, we got to see Papelbon sizzle the last three outs.

     New Celtic Kevin Garnett threw out an opening pitch to Big Papi:

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     Here we are:

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     Here's Grotto friend Amo moonlighting to earn some extra cash:

 

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     Papi and Manny:

Part I: To Kick Off Terry and Monique's Dazzling Wedding in East Hampton Last Weekend, the Browns Hosted a Spectacular Rehearsal Dinner.

Rehearsing with great focus:

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The gals looking relaxed but elegant:

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This looks like some sort of catalog shoot:

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Terry with the babes:

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Coleman looking lost:

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Lindsey, Todd, and Todd:

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Todd rehearsing:

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Lisa, Pen, Susan, and Nick:

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The Churches (the David and Victoria Beckham of Southampton):

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The Sweets with newest Sweet, Graham:

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The Wagners pose for a rare photo:

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Drew, Coleman, and Freddy discussing their favorite romantic comedies:

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Lindsey and Joanie talking about Fred and Drew:

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Penny and Mary Beth:

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M.B., Me, Pen, and Melissa:

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Lisa, Me, and Penny:

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Posing with mother of the groom Janet:

Part II: The Day of the Wedding, The Russells Hosted a Postcard-Perfect Beach Day by Their House.

Monique, the beautiful and stylish bride:

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Mo and Terry in front of the Russells' house in East Hampton, home of the giant hedge:

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Freddy, Mo, Terry, and Lindsey:

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Lindsey, Lisa, and Terry:

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Freddy:

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Patrick and Esme:

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Lytle and Seitz:

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Allison and Drew:

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Johnnie and Penny:

 

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The Lytles with Terry and Kopp:

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Penny and Shawn:

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Drew and Joanie:

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L.T. and Pen:

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Penny with the Chairman of the Blue Grotto Editorial Board:

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L.T., Alex, and Lindsey:

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Self with L.T.:

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Christopher, Buck, and Jen:

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Where the beautiful people hang out:

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Long-distance paparazzi shot:

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Penny, Me, Terry, and Letti:

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Freddy, Lindsey, and L.T.:

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Buck and Pen walking back from a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue shoot:

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Luke (aka Pukas McLoser), Josh, and Buck:

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The bride and groom approaching the water:

Part III: Getting Ready for the Ceremony on the Beach!

Almost ready:

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The groom:

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Lenny, father of the groom!

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Charles, Dr. Jones, and Jay:

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Wags, Ter, and Charles:

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Lenny, Terry, Jimmy, and George:

Part IV: The Reception and Afterparty!

L.T., Joanie, and Drew:

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Merrilee, Kiliaen, and Coleman:

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Sally, Barry, and Charcy:

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Jay, George, and Charles:

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Mo and Terry with the lovely bridesmaids:

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Jay and Coleman:

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Mo with Susan and Stephanie:

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Alana, Matt, and Graham (aka Jim Carrey):

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R., L., and Lorenz:

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Doug, Katie, and Terry:

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Esme and Baker:

 

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Lytle, Pen, and Nick:

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Amo and Coleman hanging out with all their friends:

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Yours Truly and Suz:

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R. and Mary Alice:

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Me, Suz, and Graham:

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Bakes serving as bodyguard to Suz as she acts out Personality #7, Middle Eastern celebrity (with Mary Alice looking on):

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Sally and Charcy:

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Letti and Melissa:

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Josh, Barry, Esme, Bakes, Jay, and ML:

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Suz and Val:

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Falvey clutching his new Man Purse:

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And Wags with his Man Purse:

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Falvey, Lorenz, and Samie:

Here Are a Couple of Pics from My Goddaughter Lila's Christening at St. Andrew's Dune Church in Southampton on Sunday

Proud parents Coleman and Claudia flank Lila and me, and godmother Vanessa is to Claudia's left:

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Lila and me:

Off to East Hampton This Weekend for the Wedding of Terry and Monique:

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July 6th Engagement Party for Terry and Monique in Maaahblehead. . .

     The Fitzgeralds had a lovely party for Terry and Mo.  Here are some pics:

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Jay, Wags, Terry, Jessie, George, Lindsey, Me, Letti:

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Jay, Wags, Terry, Jessie, Melissa, George:

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Mo and Buck:

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Jessie demonstrating Coco Crisp's batting stance:

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Melissa:

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Hugo, Margaret, and Graham:

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Jay, Wags, Terry, Jessie:

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Terry, Jessie, Melissa, George:

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Lenny:

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Jessie's had enough:

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Letti, Connie, and Graham:

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Wags is thinking, "I've heard this story a hundred times!"

We Went to Fenway on the 5th to Watch the Red Sox Clobber the Devil Rays 15-4.

     Coco Crisp hit a grand slam in the first inning, Josh Beckett struck out nine and got win number twelve, and the Sox got 21 hits.

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Mo:

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Georges D. and Jessie:

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Katy and Terry:

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Georges and Michelle:

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Several Sox scoring:

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Pearly, Jay, and George:

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Mo and Katy:

The Sweets Had a Cookout on the Evening of the 4th:

Playing Baci Ball in the back yard:

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Tim making an excellent toss:

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Jessie using unusual, but effective, form:

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George throws the Baci Ball as Terry, George D., Tim, and Derek look on:

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George and Millie (with Wykoff lurking in the background):

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Ryan in the middle of a guitar solo:

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Wykoff, Terry, Wendy, and CJ:

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Letti and Katy:

 

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Ryan and Melissa:

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Holly, Mo, and Terry:

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Wykoff and Terry:

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Shep and Wykoff:

Scenes from the Manchester 4th of July Parade. . .

     My house is right off of the parade route here in Manchester, so I had people over for Bloody Marys and Mimosas on my deck.

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Terry, Mo, Darcey, Peyton, and Mackenzie:

 

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Jay and Hugo:

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Adam, Darcey, Terry, and Margaret (with Graham):

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I'm preparing Mimosas with Terry:

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Ryan, Wendy, and Spencer:

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John W. and Darcey:

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The Sweets and Yours Truly:

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Mo, Lenny, and Darcey:

 

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George and I:

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George and Carol with Ryan (who thinks the fire engines are a little loud. . .):

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Jessie and Laura:

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Michelle, Darcey, Mo, Terry:

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Here I am with Ryan and Ter:

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Lindsey and I:

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This dude looks like he unicycled all the way from Venice Beach, CA:

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A well-trained  militia:

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I've always wanted one of these:

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Standard "Whale with Parrot on Back" Float:

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A Very Good Boy enjoying the parade:

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A giant bull:

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These guys have the right idea:

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Janet, Me, Mo:

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Terry, Jay, Ed, Michelle, Me:

Happy 4th of July!

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Good Boy Pics of the Day

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Blue Grotto Welcomes Two New Bahamas Correspondents Into the Fold. . . .

     NYC editors-at-large CFC IV and Amo will be dispatched to the Bahamas office to train these two gentlemen in the tricks of navigating the Byzantine labyrinth, the political nest of vipers, that is the Blue Grotto's corporate and editorial structure.  These two new hires are valued for their close ties to the local community:

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Grotto Editor Back in One Piece from Bahamas. . .

     I was hoping to keep up a trickle of posts from the tiny 3 mile x 1/2 mile island in the Bahamas last week, but sitting in front of a computer screen for more than the bare minimum number of minutes when there is a beach with sand the consistency of confectioners' sugar and the color of a pink pastel Ben Silver cashmere sweater right outside just doesn't make any sense! 

     Here are some of the charming houses on the island, most from the 18th and 19th centuries:

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     Here's the Methodist church:

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      The beach:

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     The real estate market on this petite paradise has rocketed into some sort of Nantucket-like orbit.  All of the houses shown above are priced in the millions, and this next house, situated on a postage stamp-sized lot with no views whatsoever, is currently for sale for $600,000.  I'm not kidding:

   

Grotto Staff Travel Alert. . .

     The entire Blue Grotto Editorial Board will be spending this weekend out on Shelter Island with several F.O.G.s.  Then, on Monday morning, members of the Grotto staff will make their way much farther south to another beautiful, but toastier, island.

     I hope to maintain a steady, if somewhat slimmer, stream of posts.  I would expect regular Grotto rants about taxes and free markets to yield the floor to sputterings about hooking a nostril with a fly, swimming into some sort of jellyfish rally, driving a golf cart into the harbor like Inspector Clouseau's manservant, Cato, in Revenge of the Pink Panther, or suffering severe sunburn on some of the vast acreage on my scaphocephalic head . . . .

     Anyway, here's the teensy, beautiful slice of heaven:
      

 

Off to Miami Tomorrow for the Bachelor Party of Mr. T. Brown. . .

The fellow on the left is this weekend's bachelor (although the weirdo on the right is also a bachelor):

Here he is with top-notch, unbeatable fiancee Monique:

Travelers Beware!

     The British Pound crossed $2 this morning. . . .

 

The Author and Two New Pals. . .

     Here I am at daybreak a few weekends ago down in Georgia, after a little bit of pre-dawn activity!

Combo! Hubble Telescope Pic and Word of the Day!

     Here's one called Nebula M1-67 around Star WR124:

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And here's the a definition/description of Nebula:

A nebula (Latin: "mist"; pl. nebulae or nebulæ, with ligature; from Greek nephele, "cloud") is an interstellar cloud of dust, gas and plasma. Originally nebula was a general name for any extended astronomical object, including galaxies beyond the Milky Way (some examples of the older usage survive; for example, the Andromeda Galaxy is sometimes referred to as the Andromeda Nebula).

Nebulae are the birthplace of stars. They are formed when very diffused molecular clouds begin to collapse under their own gravity, often due to the influence of a nearby supernova explosion. The cloud collapses and fragments, sometimes forming hundreds of new stars. The newly-formed stars ionize the surrounding gas to produce an emission nebula. The nebula's gravity pulls the cloud inward and it starts to spin in the middle eventually gaining enough friction to be hot enough for nuclear fusion to occur.

Other nebulae are formed by the death of stars; a star that undergoes the transition to a white dwarf blows off its outer layer to form a planetary nebula. Novae and supernovae can also create nebulae known as nova remnants and supernova remnants, respectively.

"OK, I'm Getting Hypothermia Sitting In a Swamp at 5:45 a.m. Now Where Are the Ducks?

     This past weekend my college buddy Alex Golden hosted a handful of us for duck hunting at his camp in the boonies of Arkansas, about halfway between Little Rock and Memphis.  A great time was had by all, despite the fact that the duck population seemed to take its business elsewhere.  If I were more savvy with the ol' computer, I might have tried to PhotoShop some ducks into the following pics.

     The highlights of the weekend were food-related.  The first night Will Allison and Alex stuffed duck breasts with cream cheese and tangy green peppers, wrapped them in bacon, and grilled them.  Yummy.  The next night Al laid out a two foot slab of ribeye, cut us all three inch steaks, and grilled them.  Wow.  John Seitz, Sean McDermott and I, representing the "Yankees" of the bunch, rounded out the "cheering section" around the grill.

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Georgetown alums Harold Calloway, Sean McDermott, Me, Alex Golden:

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Harold, McD., and Al:

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Alex, McD., Me:

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John Seitz, Will Allison, Harold, McD., Alex, Billy Woodyard:

 

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McD. and Seitz shooting clays (I'll spare them the wide-angle shots of the wholly unharmed clays coming to a soft rest in the field):

A Very Boston Hannukah with Matisyahu. . .

     Last night I headed into Boston with my music industry insider pal Jay Sweet for the Matisyahu show.  Of all of the countless Orthodox Jewish reggae artists out there, Matisyahu is by far the best! 

Matisyahu's excellent live album    

     We met up with Jay's little sister Cynthia, Darcey Yerkes, and John Wykoff.  Josh Werner, the bass player and band member who writes all of the music to go with Matis' lyrics, met us to hang out in the special V.I.P. balcony beforehand, looking down on the roughly 800 or so teenagers in the pit of sweat and grunge.  I felt very, very, very old.

 

Here's my V.I.P. pass from last night (looks like it was left over from a NYC show. . . .)    

     The show was awesome, in a word.  The main part of the concert ended with the great tune King Without a Crown, and the last encore was my favorite song, Close My Eyes.  Here's a pic I snapped during the show of Matis dancing on top of a speaker while the guitarist was going nuts on a several-minute solo:

     After the show, Josh escorted us backstage to hang out with Matis, his little baby boy (who was competing with the band's bongo player for Cynthia's attention), various rabbis, and assorted sycophants. 

Matisyahu and son at Bonnaroo

     Although I wanted to snap some pics of us with Matis and the band, the opportunity never quite presented itself; it would have been super-cheesy to whip out the ol' camera phone and herd everyone together for a shot. 

     It was fascinating listening to Jay talk with Matis and Josh about which musical acts he wants to hook them up with.  After a little while, Matis disappeared for a special "Prayer Session" with a group of Orthodox Jewish friends back out in the stage area.  On our way out, we ran into him carrying a lit menorah.

    For all you WASPs, here's a menorah:

   

       

May I Present to You Mr. and Mrs. Kagan!

     I had the tremendous honor of being among the smallish group of guests at the magical November 4th wedding of Alana Henry to Matt Kagan.  Alana is one of my nearest and dearest friends, and Matt, by utter coincidence, was a friend of mine at Exeter.  Matt's warmth, kindness, humor and brilliance (he has both an MBA and an MD) make for quite a combo!   

     The festivities took place against the matchless backdrop of Big Sur, California.  The ceremony itself was at the beautiful old mission church in Carmel. 

     Without furthur ado, let's look at some pics:

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The bride and groom:

   

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Yours Truly with the bride:

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Alana and nephews:

 

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Fabulous babes Suzanne Strasser, Stephanie Johnson and Merrilee Holt:

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Monique Russell, Terry Brown, ML Holt, and Josh Anderson:

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Michael Tartar, Suz Strasser and Barry Fox:

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Michael and Suz:

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Doug Inglish watches with interest as Terry gnaws on a lambchop:

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Mo Russell and Lara:

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Here I am with Suz and ML:

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The man who made it all possible, Mr. Patrick Henry, with grandson Jack (son of Alana's brother Tom and his wife Shabnam):

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Lily Holt with Shab and Tom Henry:

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Smooth operator John Seitz with Suz:

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Here I am with Alana's sister Heather and her son Nicholas, who really should be on Dancing with the Stars:

 

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Matt and Alana:

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Alana and Matt in the beautiful setting:

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Seitz, ML and The Author the day before the wedding:

 

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Mo, Terry, Alana and I pose on Sunday with the stunning coastline in the background:

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Candid paparazzi pic of the bride at Sunday lunch:

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Here's Terry sneaking into a photo I snapped of a great feathered hairdo that he spotted at lunch on Sunday (very "Don Johnson"):

Hanging with the Cream of the L.A. Crop at Terry Brown and Monique Russell's Hip New Pad in Hollywood. . .

     It was so nice to be able to meet up with all the usual suspects on my trip to L.A.  Because of the distances and quicksand-like traffic involved in inching around the city, it's a lot harder to see people you want to see than somewhere like NYC, where everything is a short cab ride from everything else and you can hurtle and charge up and down the avenues all night long.

     Terry and Mo had a party at their new hillside hideout in Beachwood Canyon (the old house of first-class couple Charlie and Jessica Mellon, by the way) that was a really nice time to be able to reunite and catch up with the following L.A. All-Stars:

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Mogul Movie Producer Patrick "Gettin' It Done" Baker with T. Brown:

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Newlyweds Matt and Alana Kagan (they were able to attend because they are going for the delayed-honeymoon):

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The lovely Sally Horchow McCauley (everyone should buy Sally's new book, The Art of Friendship: 70 Simple Rules for Making Meaningful Connections) and the lovely Cornelia Frame:

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Terry with Debra Rubens and Marty Marcus:

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Sally with Justin Falvey, Hollywood powerhouse, Dreamworks Television President, bon vivant and Georgetown graduate:

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Mo and Terry with Hollywood power couple Justin and Samie Kim Falvey.  Samie is also a superstar, running comedy for ABC now.  The Falveys are one of the great couples of all time, super-smart, super-fun, super-cool, super-nice:

A Grab-Bag of Pics from My Recent Trip to L.A.

     First, let's discuss the handful of top-notch dogs whom I count as close friends in L.A.  Here I am with Marty Marcus's Boxers, Buttercup and Rum.  Buttercup is getting to be a dignified old lady, and she and I are very close, especially because she is hostile towards men, and it was only after many weeks of olive branch extensions back in 2002 that we became great pals.  Rum is about twice the size of Buttercup, and may even be part mastiff.  I just have never heard of a Boxer being as massive as Rum. 

 

     Next, we have Pula, possibly the sweetest little girl dog ever.  Pula is the slim and sleek 40-lb. Husky belonging to Merrilee Holt.  Pula loves to play chase as well as pick specific toys out of her basket for games.  If I could figure out how to do it, I'd post a little camera-video I took of Merrilee playing the harmonica to Pula, which results in a melodious sing-along in which Pula howls and hums and sings!

     Moving right along, we have Apache and Montana Baker.  Terry and Mo and I drove out to see Andrea and James Baker (plus their little girl Fiora and brand-new baby boy Declan) at their new house, and it was a warm reunion for me with Apache, their gigantic, fuzzy, elderly Shepherd, and Montana, the little Shepherd mix.  Here's the good-natured Apache with Terry:

     Okay, now we've covered the dogs.  Stepping it up, let's take a look at the mean machine I rented while tooling around car-centric Los Angeles.  I think my rental, the Chevy Cobalt, barely lost out to the Aston Martin as James Bond's car of choice in the new flick.  I was repeatedly mistaken for a celebrity as I rolled up to the fancy restaurants in this baby.  Note the sporty rear spoiler:

     Here are some lounging sea lions we saw on the way back from Alana and Matt's wedding up in Big Sur.  The males can get to 5,000 lbs.

     Here are Monique Russell's feet in some fashionable-yet-comfortable shoes.  Mo and Alana are both big fans of the "special shoe."

     Here's a vintage Gremlin that was parked near Terry and Mo's place.  Terry is thinking of putting in a bid:

     Check out the size of the windows in this high-rolling hotel on Beverly Blvd.  I mean, what's going on here?  Is it a hotel or a maximum-security state prison?  Is this an architectural student project gone awry?

     This has always been one of my favorite houses in Beverly Hills.  The owners obviously said, "Hey, now we're rich, so how can we let the world know?  I've got it:  we'll build our actual driveway out of marble.  It'll be shiny and will scream 'We've arrived!'" (Yes, the whole driveway is shiny marble.)

     Speaking of houses in Beverly Hills, this has to be in the top three.  The owner of this house realized the American Dream and, as a reminder to himself, built a replica of the Statue of Liberty in his yard:

     Alana, Marty and I went to see Casino Royale at Mann's Chinese Theater on the big screen.  Here's a cool billboard right near Beverly and Robertson:

A Melange of Los Angeles Watering Holes

     First of all, stay tuned for an upcoming photo chronicle on the Grotto of the celestial wedding of Alana Henry and Matt Kagan, now commonly referred to as The Kagans!  This historic event in Big Sur and Carmel, California was a beautiful and joyous occasion, and I look forward to posting some great photos in the next few days.

     In the meantime, I will focus on more minor matters.  When traveling, it is vital to know the good eating spots to frequent.  Now, I'm not talking here about opening up a Zagat's Guide, finding out what the fanciest or most expensive restaurants are, and then getting your hotel concierge to set you up with a table.  No, I'm talking about the holes-in-the-wall, the reliable old standbys, those establishments that form the backbone of the city!  Here are a few to check out next time you're in L.A.:

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First we have The Apple Pan, one of the great burger joints on this planet, which I mentioned in an earlier post.  It's been around since the early decades of the twentieth century, and it's located on Pico Blvd. in West L.A., across from some cheesy mall.  The building, burgers, pie, and employees have not changed in many, many, many years!

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Next, we have Nate 'n Al's, located on Beverly Drive right in the heart of Beverly Hills.  This Jewish deli has been around forever also, and so have the waitresses.  My buddy Marty Marcus and I eat there all the time, and we always insist on sitting in the section run by Vicky Allen, our favorite waitress.  You can nibble the pickles and sauerkraut as you await your gigantic sandwich or Matzah Brei.  I always order the following:  a bowl of Matzah Ball/Kreplach Soup (with noodles), a half Beverly sandwich (roast beef with cole slaw and Russian dressing), and two chocolate milkshakes, one as an appetizer and one as dessert.  Here's a photo of Marty and Vicky, and then a photo of the facade of this excellent place, where nice families with high-chairs and little kids are crammed next to mega-moguls shaping the future of Hollywood :

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Next, there's Jan's Diner, located at Beverly Blvd. and Orlando, a few blocks from my old pad.  Alana Henry (now Kagan) and I used to meet there for breakfast.  It is the closest thing to a real NYC-style greasy-spoon breakfast diner.  By the way, Alana always liked to pronounce it "Yon's", as if it were some fancy foreign restaurant.  Typical Alana humor.  I got so hooked for a stretch of time on their Belgian waffles and bacon that I puffed out like a Christmas goose and had to buy a new set of pants that weren't skin-tight!  Here it is:

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One of the things I miss most about Los Angeles is the surplus of excellent little Mexican taco stands serving super-fresh ingredients that all serve as vehicles for hot sauce!  Marty and I would fight the traffic along Sunset Blvd. regularly to pick up rations at Poquito Mas (translation: A Little Bit More).  Marty likes to mix up his orders, but I generally go for the Tortilla Soup followed by the Steak Dinner Plate, which is a mix of steak, rice, tomatoes, guac, sour cream, lettuce, etc. that can all be rolled up into soft flour tortillas (you could order corn tortillas, but I prefer flour).  Okay, and Marty and I usually split a massive burrito on top of everything.  Poquito Mas also provides a great bonus to their customers-in-the-know:  when it rains, they serve free soup.  Not too risky, as that happens about four days a year.

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Finally, I was lucky enough to schedule a lunch with pal and reality-TV impresario Josh Bingham at one of my favorite spots, the Versailles Restaurant.  There's one on La Cienega Blvd., and one on Venice Blvd. in Culver City.  We met for lunch at the latter, and to say it didn't disappoint is a laughable understatement.  This is real Cuban food, folks, and they serve lots of it!  Plantains, rice and beans, slow-roasted pork, blah blah blah.  It's a downright party for your tastebuds! 

 

Here's a Stunning Portfolio of Persian Palaces!

      I have to apologize to my vast worldwide reader base for being out of touch for the past twelve days.  I have been traveling for business and pleasure in California and will be away until November 20th.  Upon my return I should have all sorts of juicy posts about weddings and poker tournaments, etc.!  In the meantime, I've put together a little teaser: a pictorial journey through a selection of one of Beverly Hills' great contributions to society, the Persian Palace!

     A couple of years ago the L.A. Times did an article about the Persian Palace, drawing attention to a curious creation of Beverly Hills' least fortunate school of architecture.  The P.P. tends to be a glitzy-looking cube of building material, fronted by Doric, Corinthian, or Ionic columns, distinguished usually by the fact that the house itself takes up 90% of an 1/8-acre lot in Beverly Hills. 

     Here are a few representative examples that will give you the idea:

 

Here's a fabulous one under construction:

Snooping Around Exeter with Trent Smither

     I realized recently that I hadn't visited the Exeter campus since my Fifth Year Reunion in 1993, while at the same time realizing that I only live forty-five minutes from campus.  So, Trent Smither and I made our way up there this past Saturday and strolled around the grounds.  It was a crisp and clear October day, the perfect sort of day to wander around a New England prep school campus.  I knew there were some impressive new buildings that had sprung up since my last visit, so I looked forward to seeing what $65 million can get you in the way of a new Science Center, etc. 

     Trent and I walked around the old classroom buildings, the athletic facilities, the quads, and the assembly hall, and I have to say that after moving on from Exeter to college and then the real world, it was easy to forget how lucky we were to go to school there.  To receive an education in beautiful old marble-filled, history-filled buildings at a school where no expense is spared on anything at all is a real privilege and opportunity of a lifetime. 

     Please enjoy these highlights (Trent kindly struck some good modeling poses to make the pics more interesting):

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Trent in front of Phillips Hall, where we had English and language classes:

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Trent in front of a huge new building that wasn't there when we were there (it sits on the land where my least favorite building was: the science building):

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Pointing back towards Jeremiah Smith Hall, where the scary administration activities took place:

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Here's the big new science center:

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We stopped by the student Grill, which now has big flat screen TVs and a full little mini-mart.  I ordered a Hobo, which is the Exeter version of the Ham, Egg & Cheese sandwich.  It was exactly the same as it was twenty years ago, really!  In other words, it was delicious!  Back then, we used little orange tickets to pay for food at Grill, but now they have little swipe cards.  Very high tech.  Here's the super-fancy Exeter water that is sold there:

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Here's the Academy Building, where many assorted classes take place, and where the Assembly Hall is.  We couldn't figure out why the flag was at half mast:

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Here's Trent fulfilling a lifelong dream to speak from the podium at Assembly.  I wonder what his speech is about:

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The library, designed by Louis Kahn (who beat out I.M. Pei for the project), dominates the top half of campus:

 

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Now we get to the part that's both funny and depressing: my old dorm.  The campus is for the most part dotted with nice old brick buildings and white clapboard houses that serve as dorms for the stressed-out students.  There is one dorm, however, situated on a quad amongst some attractive buildings, that ruins the whole scene:  McConnell, dorm of Charles Howard.  This place looks like some sort of Howard Johnson's or Motel 8.  (Note C. Howard's senior year room, second floor, far left.)  Looking at it, you can be sure you are not witnessing an architectural stroke of genius.  Judge for yourself:

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We made our way out to the athletic fields, past the nineteen tennis courts, baseball fields, old and new gym, and track.  All the Exeter teams were playing Deerfield.  Here's Deerfield kicking off to Exeter:

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Trent with the mascot (a griffin, I guess):

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We watched Trent's cousin and his teammates on the cross country team mercilessly crush Deerfield in a race, which was also watched with interest by this Good Boy:

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If you've ever read A Separate Peace, you'll remember the key scenes involving Gene and Phineas, trees and branches, and the river at Exeter.  Here's Trent posing on the bridge leading out to the stadium, right where all Exeter students swing out from branches into the river:

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I thought I would attempt an impressively artistic shot here, juxtaposing the old gymn on the left with the newer complex on the right.  Not bad, huh?:

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Finally, we hit the bookstore, where I picked up a couple of Exeter t-shirts for my little nephews, and were on our way!

Not Your Average Sunday: A Dose of Equestrian Action Followed by The Flaming Lips!

So, I rose early yesterday morning (that should have been the first clue that it was going to be a different sort of day), went to the early church service, and met up with Katy Redmond and some folks at the Fidelity Jumper Classic at Myopia.  This show was the real deal: the world's best riders on horses that in many cases are worth $2-3 million.  Yikes.  I suppose watching one of these horses at work should be like comparing a priceless Bourdeaux to a Trader Joe's $1.99 red, or glancing back and forth between a Pacer and an Aston Martin: even amateurs like your inexperienced author should be able to note the difference in a heartbeat.  All I can say is that the horses looked pretty good to me. . . .  Here are some shots I got:

 

Looking good.

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Leaping!

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Good effort!

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A good girl that I saw.  The best part about horse shows is that all the dogs make sure to attend.

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Katy and friend.

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The author posing with a moose.

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After watching the truly impressive jumping and maneuvering our way into the V.I.P. tent party, we strolled through all of the very cool shops that were set up in booths around the grounds.  We ran into my Aunt Ginny and cousin Pam buying some attractive shirts/neckwear (there's a term I'm forgetting here) to add some flare to their fall hunting outfits, and one shop was selling those great Argentine belts and leather goods.  I had a bunch of measurements of my feet taken, and I was told that a pair of buttery-leather paddock boots would be custom-stitched for me down in Ecuador and shipped to me in December.  Looking forward to walking around in those babies.

     We then strolled across the street (literally) to the Myopia Polo grounds to catch the second half of the match.  Here are some pics from that:

No brakes!

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Katy brimming with excitement!

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Everybody act like you know where the ball is!

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Well, I raced home immediately after polo to change and pick up my pal Jay Sweet.  Jay is senior editor at Paste magazine, the cutting-edge magazine for the hippest music fans, and he also owns a firm that puts music in movies, commercials, etc.  The point here is that Jay is always cruising around the country on tour with bands, writing articles about them and hanging out backstage.  He's like a grown-up version of the kid in Almost Famous, but with bands that are actually famous.  So, Jay invited me to go to the Bank of America Pavilion in Boston to see The Flaming Lips, a hugely popular in-the-know band that I just don't know how to describe.  (For more, read Jay's cover story on the band from Paste:

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http://www.pastemagazine.com/action/article?article_id=2825

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It's a great article.)

The Flaming Lips in one of their more normal moments.

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     A Flaming Lips show must be seen to be believed.  The closest I can come to capturing it to say that it's a celebration of uniquely festive music and atmosphere, complete with crazy costumes, hundreds of giant balloons bouncing around the audience, high-powered confetti-launchers, and bizarre videos.  Here are some pics:

The band dresses up a select group of young screaming female fans in crazy constumes and gets them to dance on the stage for the entire concert.  This time, the girls on the left were dressed as martians (purplish-silver dresses and green rubber martian heads), and the girls on the right were dressed as Santa Clauses.  Pretty normal. . . .

Can you see all of the Santas dancing to the right of the bass player (who's wearing a skeleton costume, by the way)?  Also note the confetti and giant balloons. 

Of course, here's your standard rock-band-with-teletubbies-video moment. . . .

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After the concert, Jay and I went backstage to hang out with the band, who were most amiable.

 

Jay with lead singer Wayne Coyne.

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Your author with lead singer Wayne.

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Relaxing with the Berkerys in Hyannisport

     I had a wonderful couple of days last week in Hyannisport, Massachusetts with Drew and Joanie Berkery and their three great children.  Allie is six, Andrew is not quite four, and little Catherine is fifteen months. 

     It is the perfect place for the little kids to spend their summers, as Joanie's parents, the Wolfingtons, live about a three iron from Drew and Joanie's house in Hyannisport, and Drew's parents, the Berkerys, live about five minutes away in the beautiful town of Osterville.  The Wolfington's house, situated along a fairway of the Hyannisport Club, reminds me a little bit of the Grand Tetons in Jackson Hole.  What I mean is that you can basically see the great house rise up in the background from any point in Hyannisport, much like those jagged peaks in Wyoming make their way into each and every photo out there.

     Likewise, the Berkerys' house over in Osterville is one of my favorite houses of all time.  It is a cheery, bright nine bedroom shingle house right on its own private white sand beach.  It looks like it has hopped right out of the pages of Architectural Digest.  Given the fact that there are now around nine Berkery grandchildren (and only five of the ten kids are married at this point), it is safe to say that the eventual throng of grandchildren will have plenty of room to maneuver in this grand house!

     Here are a few pics from my visit:

 

Allie, Drew, and Andrew on the launch out to the boat.

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Andrew and Drew at the beach club.  Andrew is not even four yet, but he has inherited the Berkery athletic genes to the astounding extent that during the Wednesday night family picnic, he was holding his own in a game of Kill-The-Kid-With-The-Ball against a bunch of little boys who were ages five to ten.  I also played catch with him, and he throws and catches like a ten-year-old.  Allie is the same way, too.

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Allie on the lawn at the Berkery house in Osterville.

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The Berkerys' house, as seen from their lovely beach.

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I wish I had some pics of Joanie and Catherine, but there always seemed to be nap-related activities in progress whenever I broke out the camera. . . .

4th of July Photos Are Here!

I finally have a nice assortment of 4th of July pics for you.  The Manchester festivities stretched out over a period of three or four days, and the weather was cooperative.  Enjoy!

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This is Our Group of People at the Manchester Parade (and that's my house behind us)

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More Parade pics . . .

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Lindsey Buck at the Parade 

Darcey Yerkes, Karen Dyer (aka Lady Di), Lindsey Buck, Me, Terry Brown, and Monique Russell

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Lindsey and Terry

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Lindsey stealing candy from little kids . . . 

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Chris Lorenz with Hugo Sweet

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Wendy George and Ryan Noble

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The Boyz:  Spencer George, Hugo Sweet and Ryan Noble!

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Lorenz and Mary Beth riding from Honor Count to town

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Lorenz and Carol Noble chatting on my deck . . . 

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Margaret and Hugo Sweet (with Connie Sweet in background)

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Cynthia Sweet, Jay Sweet and Mary Beth O'Keefe (note the utterly exhausted John Seitz in background)

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More Parade Scenes . . .

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Josh Bingham, Terry Brown, and Chris Lorenz on Lorenz's boat, Honor Count

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Jessie McAleer and Lindsey Buck

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Jessie and Mo

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Manchester

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Manchester Harbor

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Terry and Lorenz

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Me, John Seitz, Jay Sweet, Will Warren, and Josh Bingham at the Sweets' cookout

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Trent Smither and John Wykoff at the Sweets'

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Honor Count

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Hooker, the First Mate of Honor Count

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Lenny Brown with Honor Count in the background

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Lorenz looking festive

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Lorenz, Mary Beth, and Mo

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Mary Beth and Mo

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Darcey serving up the cupcakes at her pre-fireworks cookout!

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John Seitz, Katy Redmond, and Letti Byrne at Darcey's

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Fireworks at Singing Beach, Manchester!

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More . . .

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Jessie, Mo, Jay, Me, and Lindsey Enjoying the Fireworks

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More Fireworks-Watching . . .

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Mary Beth and Lorenz enjoying the show!

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"And the rockets' red glare . . . "

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Yours Truly and Monique at Lenny and Janet Brown's

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Lenny Brown, Mo and I relaxing before a great swordfish dinner!

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Lenny, Mo and Terry

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Lenny, Terry and Janet Brown

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Terry, Mo, and Blogger . . .

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Terry and Mo trying to avoid capsizing . . .

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Terry and Mo

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Living in Manchester, with swimming spots like this everywhere, is like being on a permanent vacation!

We Witness Big Papi's 200th Homer and Coco Crisp's MLB Catch of the Year Live!

Last night, George Noble, Terry Brown, Mike Shumaker and I headed into Boston and scalped four standing-room-only seats for the Red Sox vs. Mets game.  After swallowing some cheesesteaks and slices, we slid into some empty seats along the first base line, and nobody ever came to kick us out! 

George Noble, Yours Truly, and Terry Brown (with small, medium, and large heads) 

For the first five innings it was a pitchers' duel, with Boston's Curt Schilling and New York's Tom Glavine both pitching well.  This was the first time two 200-career-win pitchers had faced off in Fenway since 1978! 

Schilling pitching last night

It was 2-2 going into the 7th, and the Red Sox laid down a series of successful bunts, setting up their third run.  That's what is referred to as Small Ball!

Here's when we started to realize we had picked an unusually exciting game to attend!  Rock-solid Kevin Youkilis drove in Coco Crisp in the 7th to make it 3-2, and then, with the Mets' tying run on base, Coco Crisp made what will go down as one of the great diving catches in baseball history.  Mike Timlin was pitching, hoping to preserve the win for Schilling, and David Wright smacked one into deep center.  Coco came out of nowhere, running flat-out, soared through the air, and plucked it out of the air.  I've never seen somebody jump that far and high at the same time.  Terry Francona, the Red Sox manager, said "I don't think I've ever seen a better play".

 

Coco Crisp's amazing catch

Next inning, Big Papi hit his 200th career homer to make it 4-2.  Fenway was going crazy! 

 

David Ortiz hits his 200th last night

Needless to say, our ace closer Jonathan Papelbon came in, as usual, and sent the last three Mets packing in a few minutes. 

The extraordinary Jonathan Papelbon last night

It was quite a breathtaking way to witness the Sox win their 12th straight!

    

Bully the Bomb-Sniffing World Traveler, The Ultimate Fighter Flops a Set, Tony Montana's Favorite Restaurant, and Other Dispatches from Vegas

     I had the genuine pleasure of sharing the Dallas-Las Vegas leg of my trip with Bully, a one-year-old Air Force bomb-sniffing trainee.  As I settled into my seat, two Air Force guys walked onto the plane, one with a jet-black German shepherd, the other with a speckled Dutch shepherd.  The Dutch shepherd took a window seat next to his handler's middle seat, but the German shepherd could not fit into his assigned area, so the guy next to me switched with the handler, as we were in the first row and there was plenty of floor space right in front of me.  Bully, the eager, earnest, hopeful and perfectly-behaved canine passenger, settled in right at my feet.  He even had a collar with a special Air Force badge on it.  He was on his way to a Nevada Air Force base to finish up some training before being sent on a tour of duty to Iraq.  I learned that each Air Force base has on staff six or seven bomb dogs, and Bully was being groomed for this elite job.  It was his first time on an airplane, but he was courteous, thoughtful of the other passengers, and did not speak unless spoken to.  I like to think we were good friends by the time we landed in Vegas, where it was 98 degrees at 9:00 pm. 

     I checked into my hotel, which I would enthusiastically endorse and recommend to you.  It's called THEhotel (yes, spelled in that super-hip way) at Mandalay Bay, and it sprouted out of the grounds of the Mandalay Bay property since I was there last in September of 2003 for my bachelor party, which was the exciting leadup to my . . . wedding that never took place!  I have to give this hotel high marks.  It starts with that Ian Schrager / Royalton / W / Viceroy / Standard brand of sleekness and attitude, but it actually backs it all up with excellent service and a good hotel experience, which those other places annoyingly lack.

The Lobby

My "room" ended up being a huge two-room suite, with two bathrooms and multiple plasma TVs, etc.  I was much more pleased than my friend Merrilee was during her truncated stay at the Viceroy in Santa Monica.  There, if you were lucky enough to get by the phalanx of Hugo Boss-clad, earphone-wearing bouncers barring all non-desirables from the grounds of the hotel, you would have found poor Merrilee trying to settle into a suite featuring a tomato-juice-splattered wall and cigarette-butt-filled chandelier.  For all of the hype and attitude, most of these NY / LA / Miami places stink when it comes to actually providing anything of value.  THEhotel had all the glitz and black-and-white design of the others, but it was a quality hotel and I would stay there again.

     My private-investigator / lawyer / reality-show-producer / tournament-poker-player friend Marty Marcus drove out from LA yesterday, and we logged in some serious time at the tables.  We spent the afternoon at the Mirage poker room, where I found myself wondering how many of the players had done jail time.  Whenever I go to Vegas I feel a little like Arnold Schwarzenegger's character who travels to Mars for "vacation" in Total Recall, and this time the cast of characters did not disappoint!

     I hadn't planted myself at the first table for more than five minutes when a remarkable specimen appeared onstage.  I'd say this guy was around 70.  Over his gut he wore a big, billowy silk shirt of every shade of caramel and dog poop in a sort of swirly pattern (note: I think my friend R has this same shirt), and it accented the deep, rich orange of his carefully-maintained fake tan, which helped to provide good background color for his forearms, which were covered in thick yellow fur.  In case you hadn't guessed, he was wearing the mandatory gold-and-diamond-studded watch and accompanying dangling gold bracelet.  Atop the noggin of this guy was a wig that was so bad it looked more like a hat that was supposed to look like a wig, rather than an actual wig.  It was a smooth mass of neat, uniform waves, and the color was a deep yellow.  Not at all blond, but yellow.  This guy was perfectly nice, but it made me think of that expression where everyone in a room tries to ignore the fact that there's an elephant in the room.  If somebody had sat down at the table in a full scuba suit it could not have looked any stranger. . . .

     I was moved shortly to another table, which was a scream.  There were multiple young lawyers at the table, a hard-to-read, poker-faced, hugely fat Chinese guy with about $3,000 in chips in front of him (note: that's a lot of chips for the $2-5/$200-500 game I was playing), and the afternoon's entertainment:  A real Ultimate Fighter.  This guy was insane!!  For those of you who don't know, there is a sport that has really exploded over the last few years where professional fighters get into a ring and basically try to kill each other.

Ultimate Fighting

No boxing gloves, and from what I can tell, hardly any rules.  Most of them use a sort of mixed-martial arts approach, but one guy usually ends up pinned to the mat and receives a series of say, maybe seventy or eighty direct knee blows to the temple.  I saw a documentary on this sport once, and it was truly disturbing.  Anyway, some of the younger guys at the table knew this guy well from all the Pay-Per-View fights they had seen him win on cable.  He actually claimed to have a degree from Wharton, and he seemed pretty smart, despite making a living as a human pit bull.  I ended up losing a big pot to him when he flopped a set of fours to my high pair, but it was worth the entertainment of observing him stir things up.  During one hand, he was heads-up against Marty, and he not only flashed him one of his cards while the betting rounds were still going, but then his second card too!  Nutty. 

     Last night, we had a small group for dinner at Mix, the new Alain Ducasse restaurant on the 64th floor of my hotel, with pretty amazing views all the way up the Strip. 

View of the restaurant at Mix

This guy has restaurants in New York, Paris and Monte Carlo, and this one does its best to maintain the level of polished coolness and Iron-Chef level cuisine to which his customers are accustomed.  The cavernous indoor-outdoor dining room had ceilings that must have been sixty feet high, with a special chandelier of blown-glass spheres that encircled the whole space, and lots of sweeping white curving staircases.  As the endless supply of four-button-Armani-and-earphone wearing managers rushed around to make sure the Hollywood types, models, and shady Russian tycoons were happy, I found myself feeling glad that Tony Montana was killed in a hail of bullets at the end of Scarface, because if he had lived, he would undoubtedly be dining here at Mix on this night, and the chances would be high that I would find myself caught in the crossfire of Uzi spray dealt out by a rival drug lord's goons.

     We followed dinner up with another six or seven hours of poker, this time at the Mandalay's room.  This was my first time playing poker (as opposed to blackjack or craps) in a casino, and it was a fascinating experience.  I love my weekly poker night here on the North Shore, but I learned a lot by playing in a real casino with real poker players. 

     I love poker for the same reason I love trading in the financial markets:  It is a 100% true and pure meritocracy.  It doesn't matter who you know, how good-looking you are, or how well you can smooth-talk people.  It comes down to skill, and whether your chip stack grows or shrinks.

     I found that in the casino, it takes a little more concentration to keep track of the pot size (which helps you determine your pot odds and implied pot odds), as all those bets, raises and reraises are accompanied by a host of other stimuli (like the Red Sox game on a TV right above the table, for instance).  Staying on top of all the math while trying to employ psychology to read your opponents' cards must be balanced with the fun table chatter, which is a fascinating combination of friendly banter and sly strategy.  Anyway, I managed to hold my own, and I felt like I learned a lot.  The biggest pot I lost was actually to Marty, who completely busted me out with a full house when I thought he was bluffing me. 

     Well, I succeeded in sticking more or less to my 36-hour time limit for Vegas, so I live to see another day!  I realized on my flight back to Boston the odd sense in the back of my mind.  The "what's wrong with this picture" feeling was there because this was my first non-weekend Vegas trip, and my flight was full of businessmen, rather than the usual collection of strippers and guys who look like Sopranos extras . . . .