IronOnline 
              Bash 01
              
               
               
              Friday, July 13, 2001
             
              It was overcast and downright cold early Friday morning as I pulled 
              up at Gayle's bakery to snag our 20 loaves of Capitola sourdough 
              baguettes, which I later discovered -- too late -- to be sweet baguettes. 
              (Ugh, garlic bread is *never* left over when made with the inviting 
              texture of sourdough, and we had a least 5 loaves at the end of 
              the day Saturday! Grrrr... but it's a small one, overall.)  
            
              My 
                schedule for the day:  
                Grocery store for cold goods @ 7  
                Gayles @ 8  
                Gym @ 8:30  
                Kitchen @ 9  
                Pick up Doc at the bus depot @ 9:55  
                Kitchen all day 
                Drop off food at Erik's deli walk-in by 5  
                Movie @ 5:30  
                Sha Na Na @ 8:30  
                Food, for sure 
             
            When 
              I hit the gym around 8:30, Doc's wife, Cathy, was on the phone with 
              a cryptic message from Doc: He's stuck somewhere. We talked a bit 
              more about the upcoming weekend, but about Doc, that's the gist 
              of the message and there's no more. I re-assure her that we'll sort 
              it out and he'll call when he gets in, and head out for the kitchen. 
             
              While I'm unloading the truck (and by this point I've added 20 loaves 
              of bread, the grocery items and the last of my pots and pans; I 
              really cannot see out of any windows and need to learn quickly to 
              use the mirrors), Dan Martin of Garage Gym fame and John Boley and 
              sons pull up to help. Bill Frazee's kicking in like a trooper, and 
              we begin organizing the ingredients and start formulating a plan. 
              On tap: pinto beans (which I forgot to pre-soak in the excitement 
              of Thursday's dinner with Doc and Dan), Stella's pasta salad, my 
              mom's potato salad, garlic bread, bbq sauce, tri-tip marinade and 
              a garbanzo bean salad that eventually stole the show.  
            Dan 
              pretty quickly stepped in as the kitchen leader, Susan Rench (whom 
              you may remember as Tom I's first car-pushing convert -- she's a 
              bold one) arrived and quickly became Dan's number 2. Anna and Walt 
              (from the gym) lent hands also and I shoved off for the bus depot 
              in the first of three attempts to track the tattoo doc.  
            It 
              felt sort of funny to be cruising around town in the sunshine while 
              my pals were slaving in the kitchen, but with Doc on the bus for 
              28 hours at this point, finding him was a clear priority -- especially 
              now that Dan and Susan were on the job. I'll skim over my bus depot 
              experience, and only say that it was my first close-up experience 
              to two heroin junkies, bent in half and tripping. I've seen this 
              in movies, but never up close and real. I stood in line waiting 
              to track Doc's bus, tears in my eyes. It was probably the saddest 
              thing I've ever seen. Such a tremendous waste of life. 
             
              We'll never finish this day if I don't skim a bit.  
            A 
              few hours and a couple of kitchen-to-depot trips later Doc stepped 
              out of his front-row seat from the US Greyhound and we were again 
              kitchen-bound. This time I walked back in to see Doc Ken up to his 
              elbows in potato salad (the entire kitchen crew tells me he washed 
              thoroughly but doesn't remember if he removed his rings first -- 
              and no one was willing to check his pockets to see). Dave walks 
              in looking for me and Doc; Richard and Alice from Pittsburgh are 
              there, and Len and Jamie from Florida. Dan and Kenny have fixed 
              the bbq sauce after a quick trip to Safeway for Tabasco, the salads 
              are nearly done and it's looking like we'll finish early. Yep! 4pm 
              and we're heading for the chiller!  
            Hitting 
              the gym, Friday, 4:30pm, about an hour before the film starts and 
              things are happening. Og's here. And Doc Ray, in the same building. 
              Guy's trotting down the stairs like he owns the place, and Henrik's 
              playing tour guide to Bill Keyes. OH WOW. It's really happened. 
              You're really here! We've cooked the food -- it worked! -- and things 
              are going to fall into place as planned. UNBELIEVABLE! 
             
              Friday night was intentionally planned to be casual. Folks were 
              tired from travel, or perhaps weren't even in town yet. Casual turned 
              out to be perfect -- the film was great fun. We laughed along with 
              the laugh track of The Beverly Hillbillies as Granny tried to cure 
              Dave's barbell bloat. Don't Make Waves was cute -- it's a fun film 
              -- and everyone groaned when Dave lost his girlfriend. And a full-house 
              cheer went up when he came thru the window to save the day. Kim 
              Allyn yelled, "Draper!" (at least I'm pretty sure it was him) and 
              it took down the house.  
            By 
              the time we sorted out some keys, credit card snafus and housing, 
              we missed the last song of ShaNaNa by a parking-lot length, so walked 
              down to the wharf for a fresh fish dinner at Riva's Fish House. 
              The walk down the Boardwalk to the Wharf was a surreal one: Dave 
              and me, Doc Ray, Dave (Og) and Fay strolling among the crowds like 
              old friends.  
            Which 
              we are, you know. 
             
              Laree   
            Click 
              here to go to the next Bash page 
               
             
            
 
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