No I did not publish last night. It was a long crazy day. We had to head to beautiful Santa Ana, CA for a legal proceeding involving the great flood of December 2010. It was in a beautiful office complex on the 16th floor. We could see the sparkling dusting of snow on Saddleback Mountain. While we waited to meet with our mediator we had access to some very adequate coffee, bananas, and M&Ms. Many of us were impressed with the nice spread. I was doing some calculating and determined that each M&M was probably costing us about $329, the bananas were about $438 each and the coffee was an affordable $63 a cup.
While the attorney's and mediator pontificated about a bunch of stuff I can't tell you about, (Because you would be so bored that you would sue me for cruel and unusual punishment.) I patiently read my Kindle version of the WSJ and IBD. We prematurely wrapped up before lunch and some were disappointed that we did not get to enjoy the 87 dollar burritos.
I made it back to the office to clean up a few e-mails and prepare for a delightful meeting we were having today. Then I headed 46 miles North East to a town called San Dimas. One of our readers and friend Mike Ameel's Mother passed on Ash Wednesday, I had the honor of attending the wake and Rosary last night.
I had arrived a bit early and in need of a loo, and spotted what I thought was a family type pizza parlor. I walked in the place to order a diet Coke and use the bathroom. As I got about 10 feet from the bar, I realized I was in a biker hang out. There was leather, chains, and tattoos as far as the eye could see. There I was dressed in nice wool slacks and an uppity labled sports coat that just shouted COP! Or ATTORNEY!
Quickly I spotted an open seat at the bar. All eyes were on me as I ordered. "I'll have a diet Coke, and buy my friends a round." Suddenly I had made 11 new friends. They loved my car and had watched me pull up. The big guy asked me what I was doing there in them parts. I told them where I was going and most of them knew Holy Mary Church and said it was beautiful. After turning down several offers to get a tattoo, and turning down Lizz's (Biker Chick number 2) repeated request to go to the viewing with me for a ride in my car, I made it too the church for the very nice ceremony.
But my night was not over. I got in the car and resisted the urge to hang with my new found biker friends, and drove all the way back to our neck of the woods to Friends where it was Karaoke Night. Well it was supposed to be Karaoke Night. Erin, the Karaoke DJ finally got the equipment set up by 9:40 (way past my creative posting time). By then I had had two Corona lights. (I am not a beer drinker but the biker life had rubbed off on me.) Finally, I got a look at the song list and chose Rubberneckin and Johnny B Goode. The place was empty so I was singing to the bar tender and one of our readers who prefers to remain nameless in this blog. It was kinda a said. There I was singing to an empty room with one guy and bar tender. So that is why I did not post last night.
Today we had a marathon meeting, playing with one of the worlds largest spread sheets. It was really kinda cool because you could screw with numbers on worksheet 43 and it would roll up 43 pages to the summary page and change 16 different cells on the summary page. I am making it sound a lot more fun than it was, I assure you. But you got these cool formulas like: SUM((L2:QQ10="Fax"-R23*b8))*(BB219:BC110="Brown")*(CC2:CL109)) Told you it was fun.
On of the people in the room is new reader. Welcome Colin, hope you enjoy the fun. He makes reader 51 (sorry I told him he was 50, but someone joined this week by signing up for the newsletter.) I can not tell who it either? I am hesitant to say this, but Pimm Fox from Bloomberg just followed me on Twitter about a week ago and I am thinking it might be him. If so, Hey Pimm and love Taking Stock, keep up the good work.
When we all got home, Devin and I enjoyed dinner from the local Italiano joint, San Gs. I had a two finger pour of Single Malt and Devin enjoyed some Grgich Hills Fume Blanc. While we were cleaning the kitchen, Devin discovered I had left a one finger pour of single malt. Usually Devin enjoys her scotch on the rocks. Tonight she wanted it neat.
