The day after the tire incident was pretty low-key. We wandered around Fashion Valley before it opened, waiting for the new tires to be put on the car. We then went for a walk at Spanish Landing Park.
This is a sculpture about beating cancer but for all its attempted symbolism, the people who emerge don’t strike me as powerful. They look like they’re flouncing away from something frightening. There was also a bronze elderly woman holding a purse on the other side. I touched the purse, and my dad cracked there was no way I was going to get that purse away from her since she went through the Depression. Art: Apparently my family cannot appreciate it.
It was a nice walk up and down, and it was a good chance for us to talk more about opportunity and regret, going with the flow versus going with what you want.
After the car was fixed, we had a late lunch with my dad’s friends Jason and Edward, who had us rolling with stories about the hot new bellboy working at their condo and the letters they anticipate to receive about SOME tenants harrassing the staff. They also didn’t realize the condo they had bought was really, really wine-themed (each room style was named after a type of wine, the place has resident wine parties, and the condo came with a wine fridge and a set of plastic wine-glasses so they could drink in the common areas). Subsequently, they are looking forward to the day the rehab amenity is announced. With lunch and some beer deeply entrenched in my stomach and the very late night the night before coupled with an early start, I decided to take a nap and promptly slept the rest of the day away.
But theoretically I could sleep the day away at home.
The units in my neighborhood were sold with wine themes. Now that I’m thinking of selling my place, I regret that my unit is the Gallow wine box. Wheee!