So that guy over there to the right is Nate, who led our six-day Bicycle Adventures cycling trip (perhaps the best bike trip the spouse and I have ever gone on, in terms of organization and quality of bikes and gear) around Fidalgo, San Juan, Lopez, and Guemes islands in Washington State. Isn't he dreamy? (My fellow cyclist Judy S. and I sure thought so, and teased him to no end, though it was all in fun. Then again, maybe Demi Moore had the right idea.)
It was an amazing trip. A wonderful trip. A fabulous trip, despite some (aforementioned) inner thigh soreness, a blister in a most unforgiving place, unseasonably cold weather (with a side order of clouds and rain), and the sad realization that despite working out every other day I am not in as good shape as I thought I was. (The words "not another effing hill" were my mantra.) But the scenery was gorgeous, the six other people (all Canadians) on the trip were lovely, and we had some wonderful meals -- and beverages.
Which leads me to my next topic, beer, more specifically Fat Tire Amber Ale, also known as Nectar of the Gods, which the aforementioned Nate introduced me (and my spouse) to one night after a ride. In a word: YUM. One sip and I was hooked. Had it with dinner every night thereafter.
Had I known that YOU CANNOT GET FAT TIRE EAST OF THE MISSISSIPPI, I would have purchased a 12-pack in Seattle and lugged it home with me (or had it shipped). But I only discovered this annoying fact this afternoon, after nearly grabbing the guy with the frizzy ponytail over at Elmer's by the shirt collar and imploring him to order me some. Cannot be done. So now I will have to resort to begging or bribing my friends out West, particularly those who happen to live in Colorado and happen to be heading East to attend, say, the U.S. Open (hint), to bring me some Fat Tire. (Please?)
Btw, you cannot get Fat Tire in Wisconsin either. And you know what else you soon may not be able to get in Wisconsin? Brett Favre. Even though the NFL just reinstated him and he reported to training camp today. But ya know what? I hope former-backup-now-supposedly-starting Green Bay QB Aaron Rodgers hands Favre his ass (which last week Green Bay was willing to pay $25 million to stay retired).
Now don't get me wrong. As anyone who knows me knows, I am (or was) a HUGE Green Bay Packers and Brett Favre fan (though not as much as that guy on the left). But this "poor ole Brett Favre" BS has got to stop.
The guy, who is 38, which ain't young in NFL terms, said he was retiring. Green Bay said "Are you sure, Brett?" I don't know, like a half-dozen (or maybe it was a half-million) times, telling him repeatedly how much they still wanted him and would do practically anything to keep him, yet No. 4 refused the crown each time. As a result of which, Green Bay reshaped (or began to reshape) its franchise.
And now, months later, Mr. Three-Time-MVP (though not in over 10 years) wants back in, which is understandable, but just rubs me (and a lot of other folks) the wrong way, even though thousands of Cheese Heads are now dancing in the streets.
Stay tuned, sports fans, this soap opera (or cheesy melodrama) ain't over yet.
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