Saturday, WBC Game 1 - Korea vs. Venezuela

Woke up early Saturday and planned my upcoming days. Made some calls for tours and generally planned my upcoming pre-game activities. I usually do this WAY ahead of time before flying out anywhere, but I wanted to see exactly where I was and what was available only once I got out there. Wingin' it. Out of my relative comfort zone that way. It felt refreshingly good.

After breakfast and some more reading in the lobby (these Hard Case Crime novels are addicting...like candy), it was another cab to the lunch destination today: Gordon Biersch Brewery & Restaurant in Burbank. Basically the same beers and same menu as the one I frequent in Washington, DC, but I find it difficult to find a brewpub that brews a clean German lager. So Gordon Biersch it was.

The game tonight was at 6:00pm, and I wanted to get to Dodger Stadium WAY ahead of time to tool around and explore, so basically right after lunch it was the cab back to L.A., grab the ticket from the room, and walk that walk straight uphill seemingly into the sky to the stadium. It was obviously my first stab at the walk, so I had really no idea how long it would take, nor just when it would ever end. Felt as if I trudged upwards for quite a long time. Finally, the stadium is in sight. Giddy!


Dinner tonight and for the next 2 nights would in fact be identical. Gastronomical fare that would rival the treats of the finest fine dining establishments. A meal worthy of photographical evidence of its consumption.

The venerable Dodger Dog.



Sadly, the exquisite delight that is Cleveland Stadium brown mustard is nowhere to be found here. Bland and boring YELLOW mustard is forced upon me. Sigh. I muddled through somehow...

My seats for the three contests were along the 1st base line a section down from the foul pole. Every night I got to my seat super-early, about 2 hours before first pitch, to absorb the ballpark atmosphere. Got to walk around, see batting practice, meet all sorts of baseball fans from around the globe, and generally have myself a grand old time enjoying something that always brings a smile to my face: a ballgame at a ballpark.

Korea walloped Venezuela tonight. 10-2. Check out the box score in this link. Venezuela forces FIVE errors in a sloppy performance. Cleveland Indian Shin-Soo Choo hits a first inning home run for Korea and they never look back. A 60-degree gametime temperature fell dramatically into the 40s as the evening wore on. I thought I came to sunny California for warmth! It was actually borderline "uncomfortably chilly" tonight. But regardless of the weather, the atmosphere of the game was unlike anything I have ever witnessed in a baseball game. Every pitch it seemed was the final one for the World Series. The excitement was palpable. I couldn't help but just look around and smile and be in awe of the tireless fans who chanted, clapped, danced, and cheered nonstop for 9 innings. I am SO glad I flew out for this. Incredible.
And this final picture makes sense once you play the video I uploaded to YouTube. Crazy. Such a fun experience my lowly words here just don't do it justice and relate what a good time this was.

California, there I went.

OK, long time coming for a trip update. This week has been a rather lazy one with catching up on TiVo and email and such cold rainy weather putting a damper on the mood. But I'm all ready to go and type up a quick ditty or two about the trip to Los Angeles. The 2009 World Baseball Classic was the destination and the reason.

Friday the 20th saw a flight from Greensboro to Memphis to LAX. The time change threw me a little bit in that it seemed I was traveling for eons yet only about 4 hours had passed. I hopped into a cab (my modus operandi for getting about) and arrived at the hotel: the Super 8 Downtown L.A.

Not so much "downtown" per se, but that's what they called it online. The main reason for this location choice was its proximity to Dodger Stadium. The claim was "200 yards away from Dodger Stadium". Heck yeah! Walking distance! Corner of Sunset Blvd. and Elysian Park. With three games in three nights, the trips back and forth to the stadium had to be economical, and a 200-yard walk certainly fits that bill! However, I did not pursue research on a topographical map as the 200-yard walk to the stadium was basically straight uphill. Good thing it was cool, if it were summer I'd be a sweaty mess by the time I got to the gate.

So after checking in Friday, I walked about a mile away from the hotel to a Save-a-Lot grocery store for snacks for the fridge. The closest one to me. Going up aisle after aisle with my cheese, crackers, and breakfast snacks I kept searching and searching for the beer. California has some killer microbreweries and I wanted to sample some fresh ones from the source. Nothing. What the hell??? Turns out the brews are found in beverage stores or liquor stores only. Seriously? Luckily there was a rather scary-looking beverage store directly across the street from the grocery so I manned up and braved the entrance.

Nirvana.

Stone Brewing, Bear Republic, Alaskan Brewing, all manner of good California microbrew to be had. I nabbed a sixer of Deschutes Black Butte Porter and Bear Republic Racer-5 IPA. So, I trudged the mile or so back to the Super 8 with beer and groceries in hand...and was only asked for money twice and cursed at in a foreign tongue by a man pushing garbage in a shopping cart. I believe he spoke "Crazy".

Settled the grub into the fridge, relaxed and read a bit in the lobby, then hailed a cab to make it over to Pasadena for dinner. The destination? Lucky Baldwin's British Pub and Cafe. A British pub with a fantastic selection of Belgian beer. Go figure.

Walked around for a bit to see the streets around the pub: plenty of restaurants and shops and generally beautiful people. Then the hunger pangs hit hard so I moseyed in and found a spot near a TV to watch some NCAA tournament games. I planned on spending quite a bit of time here, basically the entire evening, so I grazed all night. New England Clam Chowder, then later the fish and chips, then later apple pie. All the while augmented and accompanied with some fine Belgian beers. It was a really good evening. I had stumbled upon some Korean baseball fans at the bar, and our shared love of baseball brought us together, but in the end the utter lack of understanding between us left me to watch Ohio State lose to Siena with a bunch of pretty Pasadenians and our goblets of Belgians. The main treat for me? The for-a-long-time-not-available-in-the-U.S. Geuze Mariage Parfait by Brouwerij Boon pictured below. Yum! A late cab back to L.A. and a crash on the Super 8 bed. A long travel day ends.

Headin' out west

Things will be quiet around here for a time. Tomorrow at the ass-crack of dawn, I fly out to Los Angeles to partake in the final four of the world baseball stage, the World Baseball Classic.

16 teams down to just 4:
United States
Venezuela
Japan
South Korea

Cool. Should be a LOT of fun. Three days of "Dodger Dogs" as the main dinner course. See you back next week!

O'Scharffen Berger Irish Stout

For that unofficial Irish holiday in March (dubbed "Amateur Night" by Duke for all the youngin's who think they can drink properly), I decided to fire up the kettle and brew up an Irish Stout. But not any ol' Irish Stout. No, no. I have to tweak the recipe. A 6 oz bag of Scharffen Berger cacao nibs will go into the secondary fermenter to make it a "chocolate Irish Stout". There are plenty of chocolate stouts out there, but none I believe that use a dry Irish stout as the base. So why the hell not?

The recipe:

6 oz crushed Crystal malt
4 oz crushed Roasted Barley

3.3 lb. Hopped Dark Liquid Malt Extract (LME)
2 lb. Dark Dried Malt Extract (DME)

1 oz UK First Gold hops, 7% alpha acid, at 60 minutes
1 oz UK First Gold hops, 7% AA, at 15 minutes

1 Whirlfloc tablet at 15 minutes (to clarify)

8 oz Maltodextrin (to add body)

WLP004 Irish Ale Yeast

Now, my stouts in the past have been tasty, but lack that thick creamy oomph. The addition of maltodextrin will aid the body and give it a fuller feel. It came in a pre-measured 8 oz bag, so I dumped it in at the beginning of the boil. It was only after I gathered up the discarded packaging for the trash that I noticed in small print on the label: "use 4 oz per 5 gal batch". Hmmm, double the appropriate amount. We'll see if you have to eat this beer with a spoon once it's ready.

Anyway, as mentioned before, cacao nibs will be added to the secondary fermenter. I've used cocoa powder before in stouts, but the nibs were truly the goal. Couldn't find them anywhere around here. The grocery store Earthfare that carries a lot of finer foods and uncommon items had a shelf tag for them, but never had them in stock. Argh. So a random stop at Williams-Sonoma to get a replacement coffeemaker occurred. Like a shining beacon of light, the package of Scharffen Berger cacao nibs summoned me over for purchase. Sweet.

And of course, for proper audio musing, Irish tunes on the iPod. Whether it be the modern Flogging Molly or old school The Dubliners, enough wavelength of proper music permeated the boil and can only add to the quality of the brew. Just a little unreasonable superstition when I'm working over a boiling kettle.

In fact, a proper song dedicated to the stout:

At the pub on the crossroads there's whiskey and beer
There's brandy from cognac that's fragrant but dear
But for killing the thirst and for raising the gout
There's nothing at all beats a pint of good stout
Drink it up men, it's long after ten

At the pub on the crossroads I first went astray
There I drank enough drink for to fill Galway Bay
Going up to the mourning I wore out me shoes
Going up to the cross for the best of good booze
Drink it up men, it's long after ten

Some folk o'er the water think bitter is fine
And others they swear by the juice of the vine
But there's nothing that's squeezed from the grape or the hop
Like the black liquidation with the froth on the top
Drink it up men, it's long after ten

I've travelled in England, I've travelled in France
At the sound of good music I'll sing or I'll dance
So hear me then mister and pour me one more
If I cannot drink it up then throw me out the door
Drink it up men, it's long after ten

It's Guinness's porter that has me this way
For it's sweeter than buttermilk and stronger than tea
But when in the morning I feel kind of rough
Me cursin' Lord Iveagh who brews the damned stuff
Drink it up men, it's long after ten
Drink it up men, it's long after ten

I had stepped up the yeast starter 4 times to get a really good population of hungry yeast cells. Once the wort cooled and I pitched, it was only a matter of time. After a mere 3 hours, a healthy head of froth appeared. And after just 6 hours the krausen had threatened to clog the airlock and cause another explosion. So I removed the airlock and let the vigorous frothing and constant CO2 emission protect the beer from microbes naturally, then awoke to find this in the kitchen:

Cleaned it up and put the airlock back on and it's happily snapping away with CO2. Cool.

Sip Local

WUNC's local radio program "The State of Things" is a daily look into a particular North Carolina topic. Earlier today at noon, it was a look into local beverages: coffee, tea, wine, and beer. A lot of farmer's markets and locally grown foods are a hot button, but what about the beverages to wash those local foods down with?

Sean Wilson, our Pop the Cap founder and future Fullsteam Brewery proprietor, was an interviewee on today's program. Geez, I can't wait for Fullsteam to open. Distinctly southern beer ingredients for a distinctly southern brewery. Drool...

http://wunc.org/tsot/archive/sot0318ab09.mp3

Enjoy the program.

"Too Far Gone"

"Let's Go"

The Feelies!

"Dog walking" in the Brannon's Alexandria neighborhood can indeed mean many things. One definition is dropping in on James if he's home and having him go to the "beer shed" and serve some kegged homebrew into a frosty pint glass for backyard consumption. Lara and Mike are two such "walkers".

The first time I met them, one was wearing a Sonic Youth t-shirt and the other was wearing a Red Sox cap. Baseball fans? Alternative music fans? Beer fans? I want to marry them both.

One evening months ago at a get-together at Lara and Mike's, the iPod came out and discussions of favorite bands ensued between us. After the Pixies (excellent choice), Mike's 2nd favorite band of all time is The Feelies.

Who?

The Feelies.

An alternative band from 1976-1991 that managed to squeeze out 4 albums during that lengthy time. "There'd be no R.E.M. without The Feelies", Mike would declare often. I am intrigued.

Weeks back, Lara sends me a note on Facebook that The Feelies are playing in DC at the 9:30 Club on Saturday March 15th for a reunion concert after an 18-year layoff. I should see if I could go too. Well, it happened that my 3-day weekend fell during that time, so why the hell not? The Feelies it is!

Beforehand Monica and I, Lara and Mike, and Rob and Jeannie meet for dinner at a Mexican restaurant on the outskirts of the Adams-Morgan DC neighborhood, Lauriol. Pretty tasty stuff. Some headaches with Mike finding a parking spot, nearly getting a ticket, then just parking at the 9:30 Club and walking a mile back to the Lauriol in the drizzle occur, but then full bellies occur with satisfied smiles. To the 9:30 Club we go!

Doors open at 7:00pm, but The Feelies aren't scheduled to go on until, wait for it,....9:30. Opening band The Shrubs (or is it just Shrubs?) waste our time as we wait for the main event (for Mike): the reunion after 18 long years.

I easily heard R.E.M. influence, along with some Velvet Underground, and even a touch of Tom Petty. Eclectic. Fun. A good sized crowd for a band I've never heard of who's been on an 18-year layoff. The review:

Feelies, Closing a Gap of 18 Years

Monday, March 16, 2009; Page C06

The reemergence of the Feelies -- pioneers of hyper-strum, masters of bittersweet indie-rock before it became a genre -- after 18 dormant years shouldn't surprise their followers too much. After all, the New Jersey band's '76-to-'91 career was marked by anti-careerist moves and general shunning of the spotlight. So, showing up at the 9:30 club Saturday night and blazing through an exquisite career overview that delighted fans and gave the impression that the band had never stopped practicing was almost par for the Feelies course.

Reunited last year to perform a Fourth of July show with Sonic Youth and having appeared Wednesday at a Carnegie Hall tribute to R.E.M., the quintet (guitarists Bill Million and Glenn Mercer, percussionists Stanley Demeski and Dave Weckermen and bassist Brenda Sauter) rose to the challenge of all phases of their sound. The totally wired pulsebeats of their classic debut, "Crazy Rhythms" -- "Fa Cé-La," "Raised Eyebrows" and the title track -- were lively and inspired. So were the prickly shimmer of 1986's landmark "The Good Earth": "Let's Go," "The High Road" and the haywire-guitar climax of "Slipping (Into Something)."

Songs from 1988's "Only Life" sounded better than ever; both "Deep Fascination" and "The Final Word" were highlights. The Feelies also played a wonderful series of closing covers, from the Beatles and the Velvet Underground to the Modern Lovers ("I Wanna Sleep in Your Arms") and Patti Smith ("Dancing Barefoot") to R.E.M. ("Carnival of Sorts") and Neil Young ("Barstool Blues"). Those songs came during a five-encore sequence that spoke to the Feelies' idiosyncratic brilliance, the longtime support of the 9:30 club and the perfect way to handle a comeback show.

-- Patrick Foster

They came back out for 5 two-song encores. FIVE! Insane.

A fun evening. A good concert. And with the heavy R.E.M. background/influence/ripoff, I implored Mike to burn me their 4 CD's as they are shockingly not on iTunes. Kept me company on my drive back to Greensboro. What a great Saturday.

A busy DC Saturday.

Saturday, we got a touch of a tardy start into DC. A planned breakfast at Lincoln Waffle House turned into a brunch-ish nearly lunch meal. But that's OK. They serve breakfast all day long and maybe further along into the day more grease builds up on the grill giving your meal more full-bodied flavor. It's possible. Western omelet, home fries, toast, coffee, and by far the best sausage patties around. Better than Bob Evans or Johnsonville. Seriously. Lincoln Waffle House hand-molded sausage patties. Divine greasiness.

From the Lincoln at 10th and E, we (all 5 of us: me and the entire Brannon clan) strolled over to 14th and F for some fun and games. Monica and the kids went shopping, and then James and I hit up a dark paneled smoky tavern hoping to catch some backroom deals or heavy negotiating. Well, it's not really happening on a SATURDAY, but the imagination can always work, no? Our manly destination? Shelly's Backroom, described as a, ahem, "civilized cigar parlor". Not too far from the White House, a spot where some movers and shakers have done some moving and shaking over cigars and tumblers of booze.

After one of my contraband Cubans with a couple Sierra Nevada ESB's for James, an Arturo Fuente Hemingway Classic with two pints of Guinness for me, we met back up with Monica and the boys to re-cross our steps back past the Waffle House over to the Newseum. The current rotating display? "Manhunt" . The story of President Lincoln's assassination aftermath and the growing use of the news to spread information and update the public on the fugitives whereabouts and whatnot. Interesting as usual. Original reward posters on display. Mesmerizing.

Finally, we hit the car to head back to Alexandria so Monica could get ready for our date...and by "our" I certainly mean Monica and I. You stay home James and watch the kids! I'm taking your wife out on the town. Well...with two other couples too. I was already ready to go with my vintage ancient flannel shirt and Morrissey t-shirt. That's a clue...

Saturday night indeed topped off the busy day. So much so that it gets its own post....

Another DC weekend!

A 3-day weekend off from work yields yet another jaunt up I-85 and I-95 to DC and a visit by me and two canines to the Brannons. Work 8-4 Thursday and have Fri/Sat/Sun off? Looks like a prompt post-work drive up on Thursday is in order!

First off on Friday, a trip to my favorite art museum in DC: the Smithsonian's Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden. Modern and contemporary art to make you think. Nifty stuff.

After a pretty cool morning at the Hirshhorn, it was meeting James and the kids in Arlington at Rock Bottom Restaurant and Brewery for a late lunch. James drove and I took the Metro out from the Hirshhorn. Planned to, anyway. One small snag: "apparent police activity at the McPherson Square stop" stopped ALL train traffic on the Orange and Blue lines. Seriously? So, I was stranded at Federal Triangle. Luckily, the boys weren't too far gone, and they were able to catch my phone call and pick me up on the street at Pennsylvania and 13th. Yikes. So Rock Bottom's delicious Asiago Cheese Dip and Beer Bread was on the menu. It ROCKS. And if you want the recipe, I have it. Got it from the Cleveland Rock Bottom YEARS ago after raving so much about it. Tasty stuff. Plus a couple pints of Hop Bomb IPA quenched the thirst nicely.

From there, we dropped the kids off at home and hit 14th and U Street in the, ahem, "gentrified" section for some bar hopping. Well, A bar anyway. Marvin, a Belgian beer bar. The skinny:

Inspired by the story of Marvin Gaye's infamous two years in self-imposed exile in the small Belgian town of Ostend, the creators of Marvin have combined the cafe society of Belgium, with the proud soul of Shaw. Belgian moulles-frites are served along side southern-style shrimp and grits. The classic steak-frites and fried chicken with Belgian waffles are just two of the many top dishes created by Chef James Claudio. Adding to the experience is a soundtrack of rare funk, soul, ska, and jazz created by Thievery Corporation's Eric Hilton.

Upstairs at Marvin you'll find one of DC's best lounges and rooftop decks. The turntables inside the lounge are manned by a collective of friends that have been digging for rare soul gems to create the right atmosphere. The roof deck, is heated, partially covered, and open year round.

Nice. Inspired by Marvin Gaye, but none of his music playing, and minimal photos of him anywhere. Aside from the name, I guess you'd never really know. Chatting with a friendly bartender and plenty of Allagash White and Corsendonk Brun flowed easily.

Finally, a walk up 14th and down U Street to a staple of my visits: Ben's Chili Bowl. Just absolutely cannot go wrong in a jazz-influenced African-American neighborhood eating delicious sloppy chili. A favorite of my trips to DC. And when random gregarious girlies agree to be photographed, it warms the heart...and strengthens the Marvin-induced buzz.

That was Friday.

Morrissey

The Tour of Refusal supporting the newest CD Years of Refusal. Open with the 1983 The Smiths tune This Charming Man, end the 90-minute set with Life is a Pig Sty, and encore with Irish Blood, English Heart. It was a trip to Durham including dinner at Tyler's Taproom beforehand: IPA's followed by the concert; bitter followed by melancholy. Then afterward, a planned stop at Mellow Mushroom was thwarted because it was closed, so back to Tyler's for a nightcap of Duck-Rabbit Milk Stout before the hour drive home. Fantastic concert. Great seats. It was great to finally see him live. And strangely enough I survived without any thoughts of cutting myself or suicide. I am strong that way.

All You Need is Me

Tomorrow (Wednesday) is a hop over to Durham for a concert by former The Smiths lead singer Morrissey. A moody evening of mopey, depressing, and dark lyrics set against a backdrop of rather poppy music. Beautifully enigmatic. With my current rollercoaster emotional ride to coincide with recently acquired marital loneliness, it will be the perfect evening to purge the demons...or maybe just exacerbate them into depressing oblivion. Either way it will be a fun night.

The newest single: All You Need Is Me

You hiss and groan and you constantly moan but you don't ever go away
And that's because all you need is me

You roll your eyes up to the skies, mock horrified
But you're still here because all you need is me

There's so much destruction all over the world
And all you can do is complain about me

You bang your head against the wall and say you're sick of it all
Yet you remain 'cause all you need is me

And then you offer your one and only joke and you ask me what will I be
When I grow up to be a man? Me? Nothing!

There's a soft voice singing in your head
Who could this be? I do believe it's me

There's a naked man standing, laughing in your dreams
You know who it is but you don't like what it means

There's so much destruction all over the world
And all you can do is stand there and complain about me

I was a small, fat child in a council house
There was only one thing I ever dreamed about
And Fate has just handed it to me. Whoopee!

You don't like me, but you love me, either way you're wrong
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone

Beer: An American Revolution

Here's to freedom. Choice. And great American beer.

Discovered a video on the craft beer revolution found on the Libertarian website Reason.TV

Nothing earth-shattering for the beer geek, but it's always good to see good craft beer press on the interwebs.

http://reason.tv/video/show/683.html

In 1920, the National Prohibition Act destroyed the beer industry in the United States, putting some 1,500 breweries out of business. When the "noble experiment" was repealed in 1933, beer lovers rejoiced, and the beer industry staggered back to its feet. The industry had lost much of its diversity, however, and the emergence of national brands in the 1950s and 1960s led to industry consolidation and fewer choices for American beer drinkers. By 1980, there were less than 50 breweries in the U.S.

By the 1980s, American beer had an international reputation as weak and watery as a case of Hamm's. Most breweries only produced American-style lagers, a light and inexpensive style of beer typically made with rice or corn adjuncts in addition to barley, hops, yeast and water.

What American beer lovers didn’t know at the time was that a revolution was imminent. In 1979, a clerical error in the 21st Amendment was corrected, and for the first time in nearly 50 years it became legal to brew small batches of beer at home. Home brewers who had little interest in cutting costs or making beer with mass appeal began brewing big, flavorful beers in a wide range of styles. Many of these home brewers decided to turn their passion into small businesses, and microbreweries began popping up all over the country.

Today, although mainstream beers still dominate the market, more than 14,00 breweries in the U.S. produce more styles of beer than anywhere else in the world, and American beers routinely dominate international beer competitions.

So the next time you’re at your favorite brewpub, hold your glass up high and celebrate the American beer revolution.

"Beer: An American Revolution" was written and produced by Paul Feine. Alex Manning was the director of photography and Nick Gillespie is the narrator. Approximately seven minutes.

What a difference a week makes!

Monday March 9: 80 degrees, sunny, beautiful. The kind of March day that makes you move down from the north to enjoy.

A mere 7 days ago, Monday March 2, was THIS:

Crazy.

Watchmen

Opening night. It's rare I actually go to a movie on its opening night. Don't know why that is. Sure, for Star Wars and such I was there in line at midnight, but it's been a while for a Gordonian opening night. Tonight Eric, Dan, Sam (non-canine version), and I hit the theater for Watchmen, a film based on the riveting DC Comics graphic novel. The sa-weet trailer:


Wow.

Where to begin? A psychological treatise on child abuse, big brother, revenge, rape, mystery, and ends justifying the means. It's 1985, Richard Nixon is in his 5th term as president, and the "masks" have been banned since 1977. What's a retired crimefighter to do? Most reverted back into a life of citizenry except for Rorschach, a masked vigilante whose mask ever-evolves into an ink blot test.

The Comedian, a retired "mask", is killed. Conspiracy abounds. Is someone out to get the "masks"? Rorschach is pledged to find out, and other retirees are drawn into the fray.

The tension of the world builds as the Soviet Union invades Afghanistan. World War III is set to begin within a week, most pundits say. What's the use of hope and future when annihilation is imminent?

Dr. Manhattan, an accidental mutant, is the superpower key the government holds dear. "We have superman, and he is an American." Is his mere existence enough to thwart nuclear holocaust from the Soviets, or could he actually push the world to the brink?

A complex story in the novel that tries as hard as it can to relay the literary intricacies onto the screen. A close to three hour marathon than seems to go by in a heartbeat. However, there are points where the story lulls, namely in relationships. Still, it's epic viewing with stunning visuals (including gratuitious frontal shots of a huge blue Dr. Manhattan penis).

A visual delight, a heavy plot, but the full intricacies and web of the story loses some on the screen. I guess a 12-chapter graphic novel can only be compressed so much into three hours.

I'm not griping. The $9 ticket was juuuuuust about worth it. A good score of Full Price Minus for me.

They were tossing out posters at the screening, rubber-banded together. Unlike any foul ball at any baseball game I've ever been to, I snagged a ricochet off someone's hands of stone. Each individual character had their own poster. On this very blog I will include the one of Silk Spectre II because, well frankly, she has a SWEET ass.

Dominican Republic v.2.0 - departure

It's sad. The time is nigh. It's time to pack up our things and depart. Last night's karaoke afforded us a rather late evening, but that's OK, we have a 4+ hour bus ride ahead of us back to the airport in Santo Domingo. But first, it's time to say goodbye to a new friend:

A huge piece of driftwood Duke brought up from the beach. Fare thee well, kind driftwood. You've served us well.

So now we board the bus, and the final roll call is made. Our time serving the Dominicans for this year is over. A tugging at my heart occurs, but it is tempered with the refreshing realization that this trip has truly helped to elevate me from my recent relationship doldrums. The future is wide open. There are people far worse off than me. February 2010 cannot get here soon enough. Adios!