Living a Life of Illusion

Welcome to August everybody. Hope every month that has brought you to this point has done so with grace and good tidings. I think that I definitely had a better time with life yesterday than Mike did. He was busy pushing people out of the way on subway cars packed like sardines in crushed tin cans while I was spreading my wings along the open expanses of the 280 watching ocean mist from Okinawa wrap over the Santa Cruz mountains like a warm blanket of fluff. You know, the kind that you mix with peanut butter on a sandwich. I kicked ass on the tennis court, as Mike himself would have been able to accomplish if only he heeded my dad's words from a letter written to Dennis about 15-17 years ago. You see, back then Mike had a backswing that could not only make Monica Seles grunt, but could also put quite a considerable hole into drywall. Meanwhile, back in 2007 there is a sick ass venue up in the mountains down there in a South Bay town called Saratoga-no springs, but probably some falls. Last night we helped Joe Walsh propel his 08 presidential campaign to a level of credibility that hovers somewhere between Dennis Kucinich and John McCain. We were rewarded for our efforts with a glimpse of the Rocky Mountain Way...you know, the way in which you can't get much higher? Mount Shasta is over 14,000 feet tall, on a clear day you might be able to catch sight of it from the top of Mt. Tam, some 250 miles southwest in the Bay Area. Getting to a higher level is what it's all about...and in that regard I would like to thank everyone yesterday for those incredibly enlightening posts, thanks also go out to Eric Gagne as well as Kevin Garnett for deciding to end their careers without championship rings in a squalor of rotten chowdaaah. Thank you, too, Curt Schilling for your epic performance on celebrity jeopardy last night. It almost makes the SNL sketches seem understated. From the message board, much was learned about the plight of the well-fed starving artist and we were also presented with the incontrovertible fact that New York holds the monopoly on competition, which is what probably provoked Bay Area native Jerry Garcia to gripe that they've got the ways and means, but just won't let you be. With all of that feverish competition and lavish bankrolls being thrown around like after-dinner mints at a park avenue bistro, you would think that they would be able to field a decent sports team in any one of the four major professional sports. Well, at least Football Season is right around the corner, time to fire up the fantasy league? Anyone?