The hike today was five miles long with a 900 foot elevation near the San Pablo reservoir in Briones Regional Park. There were 18 of us, and while we were gathering at the parking lot, we saw three young coyotes chasing each other, puppies playing.
I thought about skipping it. I thought about calling my girlfriend who lost her son and going to aerobics class instead. My visit to my sis would be late. I had two evening events. But the chiropractor said my back would be better if I walked more. I wanted to get back to hiking.
The hike had spectacular views at the top. We saw Mt. Tamalpais, Mt. Diablo, the Benicia Bridge, Martinez, Concord, the mothball fleet, and Benicia. We saw the Mickey Mouse trees.
One of the hikers asked me why I write a blog. I told her because I am a writer, and writers need to write. Another hiker asked me what I write about. I told her everything, but that I started by doing worst first date stories.
“I have a story for you,” she said.
She told me that her worst date was when she went on a meet and greet with an online guy for a glass of wine.
“He only bought one glass,” she said. “We had to share it.”
“Then what happened?” I asked.
“That’s all I remember,” she said.
Many of the hikers are widowed women or married women with husbands who can’t hike. Only five guys were with us, three married and two single.
We got caught up in traffic on the way home. I had to walk my dogs and see my sis before heading up to Concord for a live band and a rendezvous with a woman who wanted our old chorus outfits for her daughter’s performing arts school.
I got home and took care of dog duty. I was ready to leave when I heard pounding outside. My dogs were going nuts. A young man was disassembling the fence. The new neighbors who had cut down five pine trees were still at it, disrupting my otherwise quiet yard.
I went over to talk with the young man.
“Change the post,” he said.
“Okay, I’ll lock up my dogs,” I said.
Twenty minutes later, I had to go. It was after three, the dogs had just eaten their dinner and needed to go outside. I got a baby gate and a bench and fashioned a wobbly barricade so that Pepper couldn’t reach the guy’s hands as he attached boards to the new post.
“I have to go,” I said. “I can’t lock up my dogs for six hours.”
I need to give those new neighbors my phone number so they can provide me with a heads up about stuff.
I made a quick visit to my sister and then drove north on the 680 parking lot some call the freeway. I got to Concord by 4:30.Then my girlfriend met me for a beer, a glass of wine, and a big chocolate chip cookie that we shared while we waited for the band Foreverland to play their tribute to Michael Jackson.
The costume recipient lady found me in the crowd by looking for my red and white cherries chair. Her blue-haired daughter helped us carry the three boxes to their car. I came back to my seat and waited another half hour for the band. We danced like crazy people for an hour. Then the band went on break, and we packed up, Victoria going home to feed her dogs, and me going to a rehearsal for my jazz group.
When I got there, I was the only tenor that showed up. The baby grand piano from last spring was gone with an electric piano in its place. We sang in parts, so that meant I had to sing alone, except that the accompanist helped me by playing my notes, and the baritone host sang with me so that I didn’t have sing solo. After our hour rehearsal the host served pizza and cupcakes. I filled a plate and drove home, anxious to see my dogs.
I was too tired to get into the hot tub, too tired to stay awake for the new shows on CBS. I typed out this blog post as I struggled to stay awake for the news. It’s not very good, but some days are like that.
Tomorrow will be a less hectic day. I am looking forward to it.
Couldda Wouldda Didda
I forced myself to go on the hike, and it was good.