Tri-Daughter Update

The Tri-Daughter center of gravity is slowly moving to the southwest. Tri-Daughter #2 recently announced she's leaving Portland, OR and joining T-D #4 in the Tempe, AZ area. That means more places to stay for P.F. Chang's Rock 'n Roll Marathon and, maybe, someday, IM-AZ.

Or just a nice winter getaway any day...like today.

Sometimes Life Isn't Fair

Tri-Daughter #3 leaves tomorrow on a 10-day jaunt through Nice and other nice parts of France's Provencal region. Attending a friend's wedding, I'm told. Missing the first week of her last semester of college is more like it.

I'm left behind wondering why I didn't at least attempt cramming Camden the Wonder Dog's furry ass into her suitcase.

(Photo courtesy of PetWave.com.)

Go Blackhawks!

Dinner with Tri-Daughters in the Great Suburban Outback tonight. Off to Dallas in the AM for a long weekend of fun in the sun and consulting presentations. Light blogging. No "mouse hockey" but I will be paying attention to the Blackhawks' quest to vanquish the psychotic Mike Keenan and the Calgary Flame-Outs.

Also checking out the triathlon training and racing scene in that "Great" state of Tayx-uss.

Go HAWKS!!!

Coming Home

This is the now-remodeled Great Suburban Outback restaurant made famous by numerous Life Is A Tri posts a few years ago. The place where everybody knew my name. The little trattoria with the awesome chicken vesuvio.

The wine list is improved (30 or so well-chosen selections by the glass) but the decor is a little, um, sleek for my tastes. Though I will say last night's tomato & mozzarella salad may have been the best ever. Tri-Daughter #4 agrees.

TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME!

This's Tri-Daughter #4's boyfriend pitching for the Burlington Bees in a game this afternoon against the Kane County Cougars. He pitched well, leaving the game ahead 1-0 but with two runners on base. The reliever promptly walked the bases loaded and gave up a grand slam.

Oh well. That's baseball.

Skiing's Better When Clothed and Sober!

Tri-Daughter #3 forwarded this item from BBC News:  A skier falls off a lift at Vail, gets his clothes tangled in the chair and hangs there for several minutes, pants around ankles.

OK, only two things to say: (1) No matter what happens in life, count on someone nearby to laugh hysterically and take pictures, thus memorializing the event for all time, and (2) I've done some dumb things around chairlifts, but nothing quite like this and ALL before the era of cellphone cams!  Said hijinks mostly involved adolescent stupidity and one or more flavors of schnapps.  Though there was some laughter, there are no pictures!  Whew!

Afterglow in the Alpenglow

End of a great day on the slopes...but aren't they all? Tri-Daughter #3 just hove into sight. She's the one on a snowboard. See?

Light blogging over the next few days.  I'm in the Flying Lunchbox, dodging white-out blizzards, treacherous ice storms and the occasional road-crossing deer.  Destination: Steamboat Springs for a week of high-altitude training, skiing, hot-tubbing and vino-tasting. Then over to casa de Mom in Grand Junction for a few days of recuperating before the long drive home.

Tri-Brother, Tri-Sister, Tri-Daughters #3 and #4, assorted friends and relatives are coming along for the ride.  Bring on the powder, baby!

Cuz VM Can't Live On Bread Alone

Lentil soup and a nice green salad for dinner tonight. Maybe a spicy Zinfandel to accompany; we'll have to see what surprises lurk in the wine cellar.

Thanksgiving dinner this year will NOT involve a turkey. Gobble, Gobble. Vertical Man's family finally came clean and admitted they're really NOT turkey fans and I'm pretty sure it's NOT how I cooked the bird in years past since I rock as a chef. Nope, this year it's a 6 lb. beef tenderloin, maybe with a hazelnut stuffing and an armagnac demi-glace. Or not. Whatever.

I'm still making my famous pumpkin bread, wild mushroom & herb stuffing, and the carrot, jalopeno & ginger soup cuz they're family favorites. I know this cuz the family told me so. Oh yeah, and the pear & goat cheese bruschetta.

Joining me for dinner this year are Tri-Mom, Tri-Brother, Tri-Daughters #1 and #3 and various friends and groupies. Tri-Brother and I are still working on the wine list. It's gonna be epic.

In case you're wondering, Tri-Daughter #2 just moved to the west coast and started a new job so she's stuck. T-D #4 is joining her boyfriend's family for dinner in the great, WARM desert southwest. As I look out on 10" of new snow I'm thinking we should all go THERE!

Peace Out Everybody

Question: How many economists does it take to construct an accurate forecast?

Answer:  Nobody knows.  There's too few data points.

Not being a very modern guy, I'm not really sure what "Peace Out..." means, but that's how Tri-Daughter #4 signed off as she left for the airport on Monday and if it's good enough for the Vertical Man family it's good enough for y'all, especially as it seems the entire world's gone crazy.

Exactly one year ago, the Dow hit an all-time high.  At the time it seemed it could never go lower.  If you believed that you were stupid and wrong.   Today, with markets one-third lower and volatile as hell, it seems as if they'll never go higher. If you believe that, you're no smarter and still wrong.  

A few months ago, oil prices were near $150/barrel and heading toward $200...if you believed the forecasts.  Lots of impressively-credentialed experts made lots of impressive-sounding 'sky's the limit' arguments backed with impressive PowerPoint decks.  Now oil's below $90 and worried OPEC dillwads are sucking tailpipe exhaust. No big surprise.  Analysis by PowerPoint paralysis is usually nothing more than mental masturbation and always a poor substitute for an intelligent strategy.

And ya gotta chuckle as Wall Street craves - indeed, begs for - help from the Fed, Treasury, Congress...anybody.  When help shows up, those very same tycoons of industry yell "Holy Shit!  The government's helping!  Things are worse than we thought!  The sky IS falling!  Sell, sell, sell!"  Such goofy behavior must be a sign either of a market bottom or advanced dementia.

IMHO, we're close to an historic buying opportunity, where American industry's uber-brand names (e.g. GE, IBM, Morgan Stanley) are gonna be available for prices that'll look damn fine in your retirement account 10 years from now.  I can't tell you exactly when to buy, give you a price target or any sort of a guarantee. Despite a degree in economics, I'm neither an economist nor a licensed investment representative, and my advice may be worth exactly what you're paying for it.

But it feels like one time I told my boss that I wasn't nearly as smart as he thought I was when times were good, and not nearly as dumb as he thought when times were tough. Regardless, don't EVER bet against me, I told him.  Unlike others, he didn't. History's dustbin is littered with the skeletons of people who bet against America and American industry and American know-how and plain 'ol American willingness to kick ass when ass needs kicking.  They lost those bets and they'll lose this one too.  So Peace Out.  

And stop watching the evening news.  All you'll get there is soundbite and ratings-driven hysteria.  It's what sells.  Accuracy after the fact doesn't sell.  Nor does self-confidence nor reasoned arguments nor careful analysis.  And nobody's making you buy the fear and hysteria they're selling except you.  The winners in business (as in life) are those who hate the warm fuzzy feeling of being part of a herd - the ones who know it's always warmest and fuzziest just before the herd runs off a cliff.

In my industry, it's called the "Modern Healthcare" syndrome.  As in... 

Q: What will hospital XYZ's "strategy" be a year from now?  

A: Whatever's on the cover of this week's Modern Healthcare magazine.  

And all the while they talk about "separating" from the herd, doing things differently and better, getting different and better results.  Um-hum. It's a powerful thing, that herd, a comfortable thing...until you and those around you all die together.

Screw the herd.  Time to buy.  And answer my poll over there =====>

Cityscape on a gray day.  Tri-Daughter #1's and #2's condo is right THERE, in THAT building.  No, not THAT one, the OTHER one.  See?

Tri-Daughter #4 and her soon-to-be-a-major-league-pitcher boyfriend, last weekend, in the Great Suburban Outback.

Can You Canoe?

Tri-Daughter #3 put the canoe in the water for a photo shoot.  Dunno...

Tri-Daughters and Life Lessons

Tri-Daughter #3 is back in college as a fifth-year senior. The trouble is, I only saved money for FOUR years of college. Oops. Funny how graduation-focused she's become now that she's writing her own checks. Now if I could just keep her outta Nordstrom...

T-D #1 is leaving Sunday for 3 weeks of pre-PT board exam goofing off in Europe...Italy and England primarily, I think. T-D #2 just got back from a month in Montana and California where she scoped out medical schools and relocation possibilities with the boyfriend. T-D #4 is freshly returned to the Valley Of the Sun from the wilds of Idaho, with her soon-to-be major league pitcher boyfriend, going to school and enjoying the desert southwest.

Life is good in Tri-Daughterland.

Comings And Goings

Man, Labor Day came and went like a ghost and summer promptly got the hell outta town, too. Low temperatures in the Great Suburban Outback are supposed to dip into the FORTIES tonight.  I could use a little more global warming, if only for another month or so.  You'd think that two political conventions and all the accompanying hot air would keep things nice and balmy for a few more weeks. Maybe humans don't affect the weather as much as The Goracle thinks.

Camden the Wonder Dog has returned for the school year with Tri-Daughter #3; I'm once again dragging his sorry tail all over the GSO on short and medium-distance runs.  He loves running, well, the first mile or so anyway.  He's not such a big fan of miles 4, 5 and 6.  Wait 'til I do a 13-miler.  He'll sleep for a week....just one of the many side benefits of training.

T-D #3's best friend is living here for a while, along with her cat.  Kitty is, thankfully, declawed but that hasn't stopped her from smacking CtWD right on the nose with a satisfying "THWACK!"  Way to go, Kitty!  Wind up and hit 'im again!

I'm gonna get on my bike when - or more accurately, if - the rain clouds depart. The Weather Chick says they're remnants of the latest storm-to-end-all-storms. She's probably right.  In the meantime, like the wuss that I am, I'm reassembling the CycleOps trainer to prepare for the inevitable day (like next week) when it's TOO COLD to ride outside.  It'll be in an unused basement family room next to da DW Drums, a big TV and a door looking out over the lake...all the better to spend hours riding like hell and going nowhere.

It Ain't An Empty Nest Until The Kids Get Their Crap Outta The Garage

Rain and thunderstorms have temporarily interrupted my quest to de-junkify my garage and basement through the most quintessential of all middle-American traditions: the garage sale.  What isn't sold by the end of the day (or the the storms' passing, whichever comes first) is being given away or junked.  I'm sure there's an HGTV show in there somewhere, maybe something like "De-Constipating Your House."

Pretty soon I'll be able to park my very own car in my very own garage.  Another great American tradition.

UPDATE ON THE "MESSING WITH POLLSTERS" POST (BELOW.)  I once told a pollster that I didn't want to answer her questions cuz I didn't plan on voting.  When she inquired as to why I wasn't doing my patriotic duty I told her that I'd just found out I had only a few months to live and I figured voters ought to at least stick around long enough to reap the unhappy consequences of their actions.

Let's see...what else...oh yeah, I'm picking a fight with an Idaho Falls, ID tire store by filing complaints with their BBB, Chamber of Commerce and anybody else who'll listen over said tire store's attempt to rip-off Tri-Daughter #4.  They refused to replace the ONE road debris-damaged tire she needed, insisting that she spend $2,000 on FOUR new tires which, of course, didn't happen.  Nobody rips off Tri-Daughters (or tries to) and gets away with it.

More Graduation Pics

Let's see...while the drums were playing - the after-party pool party; T-D #1 and VM.

And a one and a two...

OK, stick with me here.  T-D #1 recently graduated.  T-D #2's boyfriend did too. An after-graduation pool party.  Boyfriend attended avec parents.  Boyfriend's father plays kick-ass guitar.  Guitar's sitting in car trunk.   Next to a big-ass Marshall amp.  Father saw silent DW drums.  Ahhh, that ain't right!  Guitar and amp rescued from trunk.  Vertical Man on the drums, silent no more.  Woo-Hoo Boogaloo!

Crashing noise.  Loud merriment.  Geezer rock 'n roll.  Bo Diddley beats.  Chicago blues.  Stones' "Casino Boogie" (cuz I'm Charlie Watts, remember?)  Thin-lipped sticks-in-the-mud disapproving.  Tough beans.  Best graduation party EVAH!  Surprised you didn't hear it.

One...two...one two three FOUR!

What I Did On My Weekend!

Tri-Daughter #1 at her PhD graduation.  Yahoo!  Two down, two to go.

Monday Monday. Can't Trust That Day. Or Can You?

Another great ride with Tri-Brother yesterday, 41 windy miles along Lake Michigan, from northwest Indiana to New Buffalo, MI and back. 104 average wind-aided watts at the turn-around, 135 wind-battling watts on the return and 119 average for the entire ride. Bright sunshine, cool temps, lotsa smooth, re-paved roads and a friend as a tour guide for the day. She's mapping even more lightly-trafficked, lakeside streets to extend the route to 100 miles or so. Let the games begin!

I dropped Tri-Brother at his Chicago hotel for a few days of big important business meetings and headed to Tri-Daughter #3/#4's Bucktown apartment for a nap...except no nap ensued. Camden the Wonder Dog looked bored, so off to the local doggy park we went. Characteristic of his Golden Retriever breed, CtWD is good-natured to a fault. Chicago is just 6 million people he's yet to meet and he can't wait.

He's also a clumsy moose - a furry, 75 lb. poorly-guided missile. Other dogs soon learned not to mess with his missile-ness, especially one mangy hound-dog-looking cur who found that, as a straight boy dog, CtWD doesn't appreciate being mounted.


The real purpose of the evening was T-D #3's birthday celebration dinner at Spring, a fantastic restaurant that's rapidly becoming my favorite EVAH! (Here's a review from a few years ago...) I've now had two dinners at Spring; both rank among my mis-begotten, captious life's most memorable.

T-D #3 knows how to pick 'em. She's working at Spring for the summer, so we were escorted to a primo table and treated exceptionally well. Unexpected appetizer courses, extra amuse bouches just 'cuz the chef thought we'd like 'em. We did. And though we ordered three desserts for the table, I think we received twice that many. Yum.

Oh yeah, the wine. Let's see...an Albarino from northwestern Spain, a Sancerre from France's Loire Valley and a Washington State late harvest Gewurztraminer. All terrific, crisp, summer-y, food-friendly wines...good values, too, from a well-conceived wine list.

And now it's Monday. Blech. I need more weekends and fewer Mondays. Anybody figure out how to do that?

(UPDATE: Someone else rode along the shore.)