Four Score and Seven if by Sea is Well on the Western Front

We are currently up in the snow. We came up the other night to visit family, and help out in the office. Last night we played Wii, then played cards and chatted into the night with Keith and Karen and Mom and Dad. I do love the mountains. I would like to get into some serious mountains, seriously soon. Somewhere like this. That is a photo of a peak called Bear Creek Spire, east of Bishop Ca. in the High Sierra. I've been there as a child. We backpacked up a series of five lakes for a couple days, until we reached to foot of the Spire. There was a lake that was so fresh, one could stick one's face right in and slurp up the icy water. That's where I'd like to go soon. I always assumed that as a young, married man, I would camp and backpack and hike a lot. But I don't. Why is this? We have the gear. We live near some of the worlds most beautiful terrain. So why don't we go? This, my friends, is the question... Wait... I've just had an apostrophe! Lightning has just struck my brain! This is just coming to me now, literally as I type. None of this preplanned - "I'm going to blog about this this afternoon" - stuff. What if I began hiking? Start small. Realistic. Say every other weekend. Start local. There is a beautiful hike up the Arroyo Seco watershed, literally out my front door. It goes up to the Rose Bowl, underneath the Colorado Bridge. That's it. That's where I begin. When? Saturday Feb. 21st. Late morning. I have shows both Fri and Sat night, but I think I can make it work. So late in the morning on Saturday the 21st, I will pack a lunch and walk out my front door, up the Arroyo, and back. Does anyone want to join me? If so, let me know. And on this hike we will plan the next one. Good.

In other news:

Last week my boss and I presented a project to the 136th wealthiest man in America. It was big time. The presentation consisted of a few of my designs and renderings, as well as others. It was as real world as I've ever seen.

Last week I pulled into our driveway, and when I got out to open the gate and pull the rest of the way in, I realized that my truck was still in gear. Just like a scene in a movie, it rolled, by itself, through the gate, busting the lock and slamming it open, while I'm running for the brake pedal between the truck and the trees. I stopped it before it went into the garage, but was shaken nonetheless. It's funny now.

Shepard Fairey, of the Obey brand fame, is a moron. I heard him on NPR the other night talking about how he was arrested for putting up the now famous, communist-ish Obama Hope poster on private property. He said the police were treating him inhumanely because he couldn't get comfortable in the back of the cruiser.

School starts in two weeks. I'm 50% excited, 50% dreading it. All-nighters... bring the pain.

Ten points to the first one to get the Hook quote.