mccullochblog

Spring has Sprung!

After two months of what was surely a holy plague of precipitation cast down in punishment for decadent lifestyles and a lack of affordable housing, San Francisco has finally emerged from the rain.

'We' Californians would usually have been frolicking on roller blades, mountain bikes and jogging paths for a month by now, but the weather has been frankly frightful for far longer than it ought to have been. (I blame global warming, but apparently George Bush says there's no evidence of that, so it must be something else.)

In any case, with the coming of the sun, life has sprung eternal along San Francisco's avenues and boulevards.  Today, Emma, her parents and our lunch guests, Eileen and Dan and their son Danny, lunched in the sunshine, biked in the sunshine and strolled in the sunshine and yes, life was good. I would even go so far as to say that this weekend has been quite excellent, not least as it included a 104 at Harding Park Golf Course. Not-at-all shabby given this is a PGA championship course.

Not only has all of this goodness entered my life this weekend, but I also have a curious feeling of wellbeing, courtesy of this three-day weekend, which some say is known as 'feeling relaxed'. Hmmm, maybe the paint fumes from the new green colour in the bedroom ARE good for me!

Four Pars, Three Bogeys...and Two Beers

It's been a tough start to the 10th Annual McCulloch Golf Season. A few weeks ago, I played a truly diabolical first round of the New Year with my usual sparring partners and, having let my clubs gather some dust in our new shed, I expected more from the year's second outing.

But alas, after shooting a poor 108 at Peacock Gap today, it has become clear to me that I'll need to spend a bit more time at the driving range if I'm to recapture last summer's form. I may well have to quit my job and practice full time for the next week, as I've tentatively agreed to take Emma's dad to Harding Park on Friday. Harding is San Francisco's new championship golf course. Surely, humiliation awaits.

Still, the sun was shining today. My golfer's tan got topped up nicely, and it's Emma's birthday weekend. What do I have to complain about?!

All Wrong.

I can't tell you how much it saddens me to hear about government forces adopting a 'shoot-to-kill' policy for dealing with peaceful protesters in Kathmandu, Nepal.

In a Western world that is apparently so concerned with spreading democracy, it's nothing short of tragic to see that all the UN could muster was a condemnation of "the excessive and deadly use of force by members of the security forces against protesters and innocent bystanders".

I'm sure King Gyandendra will be quaking in his boots. Have a look here to see what else is happening in one of my favorite countries in the world.

Snow joke.

As part of my ongoing quest to write a novel, I'm currently reading a book titled: "How to write a damn good novel" by James Frey. One of its key components is the assertion that every good novel must have a premise - a basic moral or underlying principle. Frey highlights, for example, that the premise of Dickens' tale of Scrooge could be described as "self examination leads to enlightenment and a better life."

Today, I discovered a premise for at least one chapter of my life. It goes like this: "electing to snowboard in a white-out leads to considerable personal injury".

OK, so, hold the 'get well soon' cards - I'm mostly fine, save for some whiplash-type symptoms in my neck and several very sore muscles in my back and legs. However, were it not for a very-well cushioned helmet it is fair to say that I may well have proven the premise today.

As you may be wondering, all of this came about as a result of a trip to Lake Tahoe that Emma and me and our friend Mark made this Saturday. While we should have seen the warnings signs ("there's a storm coming in" said Sugarbowl's web site) we nevertheless donned our gear and headed up into the mountains.

One snowstorm, one total loss of visibility, one unforeseen steep slope and one involuntary backwards somersault later, there I was lying on my back wondering whether any of the pain I was feeling might last more than a few minutes. Fortunately for me, the fact that I'd flipped over backwards at high speed and slammed my head into packed snow didn't seem (or at least, not at the time) to have caused me any long term damage and so - like the damned fool I am - I carried on snowboarding for as long as it took me to get to lunch.

As if I had not been foolhardy enough, we then attempted one more run after lunch in what were rapidly becoming atrocious conditions. Appropriately enough, the three of us then became suspended in arctic conditions for ten minutes on a ski-lift that had apparently frozen to a halt. That - we quickly decided after the lift lurched back to life - was about as much fun as we could stand for one day.

Thanks to the miracle of digital photography, I can bring you a clip of that last experience here: Download Stuckonthelift.wmv .

Fear not, though, dear readers. All was not lost. Whiplash and all, Emma and I managed to get home in time to partake of what is undoubtedly the best curry in San Francisco, which, in retrospect, leads me to consider a slightly different premise for the day: "near-death experiences cause Burmese curries to taste fantastic".

Work. Bjork. New York.

I've said it before but I'll say it again, New York is a great city. I'm never 100% convinced I could live here, but the place has such a verve, a vibrancy, an energy that is unmistakable and irresistable whenever I visit.

If you hadn't surmised already, I'm on the road again, spending four days in New York and one in Raleigh, North Carolina. I wasn't best pleased about being separated from home and lady for so long, but as it's turned out, we've both been able to enjoy a bit of time apart.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, I was about to tell you about my day off; the Broadway show, a brush with celebrity and a visit to world-class art museum...

To be precise then, I ran into Bjork on 5th Avenue today. True to form she was wearing silver spandex trousers, a bright blue hoody and a large green plastic flower in her hair. She didn't seem to recognize me.

I also saw a fantastic exhibition at NYMOMA of Edvard Munch's work - he of the 'Scream' painting. In doing so I acquired a new-found admiration for his tortured art. While his life may have been wracked with the misery of lost-love, sickness and an overdeveloped sense of his own mortality, that man sure could paint.

And tonight I rounded off a fantastic day off by attending a harrowing, yet inspiring and occasionally very funny play Rabbit Hole starring Tyne (Cagney and Lacey) Daly and Cynthia (Miranda from Sex-in-the-City) Nixon. I've never felt more compelled to leap to a standing ovation than I did after watching this play. Powerful stuff. Go see it!

Which leaves me only to say...I wonder what I can get up to tomorrow?