Dinner at Peter Shields last night, one of our favorite places, huge old home across from the beach with a sprawling restaurant on the genteel first floor. BYOB, so I purchased a Silver Oak 2003 Cabernet, which even Maria liked, who drinks very seldom. Shellfish, Caeser, rack of lamb. (Have you noticed that “Caesar Salad” is a misnomer these days? You’re likely to find feta cheese, onions, tomatoes, shrimp, chicken, and an eclair in there. And it’s never made tableside except in rare establishments.)
Drizzly morning, walked over for the papers and had a few staring contests with the “dumpster gulls” trying to undo the tops. I lost the contests and I imagine the dumpsters will lose, too. I must be one of the few people who can’t tolerate Starbucks coffee, even as a ritual, so I made a second stop in an old-fashioned diner with cheaper, better coffee.
The Sales Talk Teleconference has drawn 200 registrants thus far and I’m inquiring about how many orders my automated system can hold, since I don’t want to process them on vacation. Nice problem to have, I guess. Discount deadline still three weeks away.
From our balcony, I’m watching the lifeguards practice in the morning, swimming in rough seas a mile or so, and rowing these ungainly boats through the surf. Those are the folks I want coming after me. They can swim where I’m not able, they can go where I haven’t yet been. Don’t hire a coach or mentor who doesn’t have the same credentials. If all they do is give advice, it’s the equivalent of the lifeguard simply standing on the beach and screaming to you as you flounder, “Tread water! Tread water! Haven’t you read my tips on the Internet?”
© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.