Travels with The Rayman

15 minutes ago, I was busy composing blogs in my head and thought to myself, “Gee.  I should write a blog.”  So I unplugged my machine and brought it to bed with me so I could pontificate from the pillow.  But the computer wouldn’t start up as it usually does.  After 15 minutes of effort, I was getting ready to give up, and voila.  The computer started up.  What is that all about?  It is maddening.

But I digress.

The machine works and so i will try to engage my brain and pontificate as promised.  We are presently in Buellton at the RV park.  Been here since Thursday.  Having a wonderful time.  Two big things have happened.

First, we played golf at a course named Glen Annie.  A good test of golf.  Everything started out great and then the phone rang on the second hole.  My realtor.  He needed documentation that repairs on the Ocean house were completed (despite the re-inspection of last Sunday).  Okay.  So between my driver and my nine iron, I managed to arrange for my contractor to provide said documentation.  Actually, it took a long time in the end.  A call here, a call there.  Pretty soon it really started interrupting my golf game.  By the eighth hole, mission accomplished.   Rayman was not happy but what could I do?  My job beckoned.  He was a good sport about it most of the time.   Being a trustee is hard.  Your time is not your own.  So many problems.  Oops.  So many challenges.  That sounds more positive.

Second thing we did was drive down to Sherman Oaks (L.A.) so that Rayman could shop at Jimmy Au’s clothing store for men 5’8 or shorter.  A fabulous store.  Mr. Au is 80 years old and quite the sales guy.  He was down on the floor with his pin cushion shortening a pair of pants when I muttered, “Ray, do you intent to buy these?”  He didn’t.  But we had a swell time anyway.  Beau was invited in and the floor completely freaked him out.  He put on his breaks (he looked splayed)  and was not going to  move.  Shiny wood floors.  He did not like them.  While we were there a man came in and Rayman started talking with him.  They were comparing how many years of retirement they had under their belt(s).  The man had been retired 20 years.  Rayman said, “You don’t look a day over 59.”  The man said that was funny.  He wished he was.  Then he said, “Actually, I am glad I am as old as I am with the way things are going.  Who wants to be around?  I put in my wish to live to 92 but I’m backing off that.  Not such a good idea under the circumstances.”  Trump really is affecting people’s mental health.  Just saying.

On the way back, we stopped at Crush Cake’s in Santa Barbara to get some cupcakes and then we hightailed it back to Buellton to meet up with our bicycle friends.  A gaggle of them arrived today.

We dined at Industrial Eats.  Had a Caesar chocked full of garlic and anchovies, and a basil, tomato, cheese pizza (split one order of each).  We sat across from a couple from L.A. on their way home from Carmel with their “guide dog” which weighed about 1 pound.  And it sat in the lady’s purse.  They were vegans and had ordered 5 salads.  No wine.  Just water.  I admired their lifestyle.  That’s when he admitted he missed meat.  She didn’t.  And since she didn’t, I can only assume the only meat he will eat will be when she isn’t around.  Say lunch.  He had a hurt look on his face when admitting to his longings.  Think I’ll leave it there.

I did not post this blog so I am now p.s.ing.   Post script number one.  We played Sandpiper golf course which is located right on the Pacific ocean.  The weather was perfect.  A slight breeze made it perfect walking weather.  I do not exaggerate when i say that the course is bloody long.  Geeze.  400 yard par fours.  200 yard par threes.  However, the view is priceless.  When we arrived, we were paired up with two men.  They drove a cart.  It was a good thing too because they lost almost every ball they hit.  One shot would veer left.  The other shot would head right.  And as soon as they hit, they would jump in the cart and look and look and look for their balls.  In the meantime, Rayman and I would walk to ours and wait.  And wait.  And wait.  This went on the entire round except on the 11th hole.  I missed my drive and buried my ball in the heather.  Perched on the side of the hill with the ball way below my feet, I was really just concentrating on my golf game.  When we all arrived at the green, Doug, as usual, could not find his ball.  He finally announced that he must have rolled off the green down to the beach.  Literally, the beach.  So he dropped a ball and skulled it across the green.  I putted and went to the hole to take out the flagstick.  There was a ball in the hole.  OMG.  Doug’s ball.  A hole in one.  No one saw it.  No one suspected it.  Especially Doug.  Unbelievable, really.

We also ran into the old pro from San Luis Obispo CC.  He is now the golf coach at Cal Poly and it just so happened that yesterday was the third day of West Coast college golf tournament.  Did I mention really tough pin placements?   And the greens were cut very short and they were quick.  It was great seeing Scott.

Oh, and I beat the Rayman.  Straight up and in match play.  Never got a par but I did celebrate a birdie on the 18th hole.  Just a foot away from the pin.  Sunk the putt.  Yippie.

My second post script is that we hosted 7 (9 all together) for a barbecue of chicken (a beer marinate) and tri-tip (olive oil, vinegar, oregano, salt and pepper marinate).  Our friends brought roasted veggies, French potato salad, and a yummy appetizer.  The weather was great and the company better.  Then K.C. made a deconstructed strawberry shortcake for dessert after a walk around the park.  Love our bicycle friends.  A great time was had by all because we are all like-minded…politically.  Blessed.

And the pic of Rayman at Industrial Eats is on this blog because we ate there twice and wanted to plug it.  Great food in Buellton.