February started with a ski trip to Tahoe with friends I met in 1998 via the Tennessee Air National Guard. I skied 40 miles the first day and another 37 on sore legs the second day. A couple of us won a few hundred dollars at blackjack just across the Nevada line. At one point, my ski got caught under a teen’s snowboard on a chairlift, and I fell off. My pride has healed; my left wrist has not.
I began working in a new office fewer than 2 miles from our house, which is nice. On good weather + no suit days, I ride the green Honda Shadow I got for Christmas, which is how I justified asking Santa for said Shadow. Have you seen gas prices as of late?
Then, my bride and I flew to Palm Springs for what was supposed to be a live board meeting that moved to Zoom, but we went anyway. We took a tram above the city, rode a gondola across a river inside (and outside) the JW Marriott, camped and hiked at Joshua Tree National Park, and watched the Super Bowl outside a dive bar with drunken Marines on Harleys. I fell on a negligently set up corridor requiring a step down to the restroom during our Valentine’s Day dinner in 29 Palms. I gave all within earshot a primer on the duty of care owed a business invitee. My pride has healed; my right ankle has not.
After a day in the office, I boarded another plane; this time for New Orleans– my 27th trip to my favorite city. My bride came with me, and Amy met us the next day. We ate awesome food, threw awesome beads, visited awesome bars, and I did an awesome Tone Loc rendition at Cat’s Meow.
I returned to reality for a few days and then headed back to California for a summit in San Diego, where I made new friends, learned new things, and escaped without injury.
And then February was over. I miss it.
