Party Pooped

Well, another wonderfully successful International Wine Bash concluded around 3am last night. Total attendance wasn't quite as large as we'd feared, probably around 100 people like last year. Only four broken wine glasses and nobody drowned in the pond. Special guests included Steph's sister and brother-in-law visiting from Washington DC (they didn't quite beat last year's travel record set by my work friend from Caracas, Venezuela). Everybody seemed to have a great time and the weather was absolutely perfect. The crazy dogs were sorely missed but our risk management strategy appears to have worked as neither has yet coughed up any corks or bottle caps.

The aesthetics were enhanced by numerous gorgeous floral arrangements significantly discounted by a neighboring florist, including an enormous and intricate creation standing atop a 3-foot-tall glass vase displayed on the wineglass table as guests arrived to the patio. The not-quite-kosher but very official "City of Chicago Streets and Sanitation Dept." blockades worked brilliantly in the alley. Although we're our own worst critics, most of the food turned out great and we appreciated lots of help with extra dishes this year. We DJ'ed in the garage until late, until one of the small but heavy Bose speakers precariously perched in a windowsill fell smack on the computer playing the songs, breaking it (it was my work computer...oops). Heaven only knows how THAT happened, after people had been drinking wine for eight hours. So the hosts and other stragglers finally decided to call it quits.

Although not feeling too spectacular, we luckily functioned well today spending all day (unless my waking up at 1:00 pm somehow negates the idea of "all day") cleaning up AND then prepping the house for sale--going on the market tomorrow (!). There was one fascinating development Saturday night in that a party goer friend-of-a-friend of upstairs neighbor Gayle is currently house hunting and potentially interested in our place; the price tag didn't scare her away and she's returning later this week with a realtor. So we're not raising our hopes just yet, but its a start. Of course, the housing market is extremely sluggish right now as many buyers and financiers alike are suffering their own hangovers from the past several years' real estate partying. There's never a dull moment around here, so we'll see how it goes!

Party Prep Prep Prep

The 2nd annual International Wine Extravaganza at Chez Hoyne tomorrow evening is not just threatening to outdo last year's--it's already there. The Evite list, despite being somewhat unreliable, has the attendees running around 115+ right now and we'll probably actually achieve 125-130; last year was about 100 (that's including friends of Todd, Steph and Gayle, our upstairs neighbor and crime partner). As with last year, we set up six country stations (Argentina/Chile, Australia/NZ, France, Italy, Spain, U.S.) with country-specific foods and then assign bottles from each country to each guest. People can try food & wine from each country all night and then generally get crazy. Steph & I are in charge of most of the food while Gayle acts as Director of Aesthetics and makes the desserts.

Last year, poor Stephanie went nuts and made about 90% of the food herself--something like 15 different appetizers for 100 people each--and didn't leave the kitchen until 3-1/2 hours after the party started; I didn't leave for 2-1/2 hours. Rave reviews but a pooped chef. So this year we've recruited food help from several friends to spread the pain a bit. Nevertheless, since Steph was just in Switzerland from Sunday to Thursday, I shouldered more of the prep burden this year and spent all those nights making Cheesy Poofs, Herb Crepes and Empanadas from scratch.

Nobody gets wilder at blowout parties for humans than Golden Retrievers, but unfortunately the resident dogs (crazy Hobbes and Gayle's crazy Golden named Charlie) will be spending the evening offsite at doggie camp. That's because Charlie's attendance last year cost Gayle something like $5,000 when Charlie swallowed two beer bottlecaps amidst the general chaos (showing off, no doubt), found by X-ray several months later and surgically removed. Hobbes also made a scene last year by running his sizable tongue across the entire length of the Coconut Lime Squares tray and then acting surprised when nobody wanted to eat them (of course, in the dog brain, if everyone politely passes then the next logical recipient is him). In a happy ending to the story, a certain set of observant and resourceful friends simply turned the tray 180 degrees so that the unlicked bars faced front. So although we'll miss them dearly, the dogs' absence this year should also help reduce potential stress.

Hopefully things will go swimmingly. The weather should be party perfect--70 degrees in the evening with no chance of rain, since most guests will be outside on the back patio, garden and spruced-up garage. Also we're allowing overflow from the garage into the alley this year, as our city-connected neighbor procured some official City of Chicago street barricades that we'll employ to frustrate alley traffic.

The last critical yet unpredictable element requiring significant improvement over last year is the pace and moderation of my wine intake. I was overserved in France--trying to make up for lost drinking time spent prepping food in the kitchen--which resulted in an extremely blurry and slightly premature (1:00 am?) exit from the party last year with a messy hangover all day Sunday. Better luck this year!

Swiss Miss

Stephanie left for Switzerland last Sunday evening for several days of attempted apartment hunting prior to our actual arrival. The trip, suggested by her boss-to-be, was a bit of a calculated gamble that, if successful, could shorten our need for temporary housing once we arrive and overall speed our transition. And of course, the more time spent in Zürich means greater familiarity which can never hurt.

Unfortunately neither the weather nor the apartments cooperated. The weather was unseasonably COLD at 45F (about 7C) and rainy--perfectly miserable. Reportedly there's already snow in the nearby mountains! There was a slight communication mix up with the relocation company who's helping us get establshed in Zürich; they were expecting her arrival a day later but were still able to set up a bank account (necessary to sign a lease) and see several apartments.

Perhaps not surprisingly the Swiss bankers are quite serious about their money. A pre-scheduled appointment is necessary simply to establish an account, and once established they told Stephanie that the untrustworthy husband would not have access to HER new personal account unless I was granted power of attorney (to reciprocate, my company paid its annual profit sharing bonuses this week and I deposited mine in a Cayman Islands offshore haven).

The apartments were nice enough, some very new and one slightly used, but the locations were not in the heart of the city itself--something more like nearby hybrid "city/suburbs" of Zürich, akin to an Evanston or Oak Park in Chicago. Apparently the city location apartments remain open for a day or less before they're snatched up. And the landlords list the rentals only one month in advance! And they're all asking for a three-month security deposit! Outrageous! In any event, it became obvious that a prerequisite for obtaining the most desirable close-in locations is already living somewhere nearby and being instantly personally available to jump on an open apartment. Not dissimilar from the rental situation in our old Chicago Lincoln Park neighborhood. Also wonderfully Swiss and xenophobic is complete disregard for equal-opportunity housing. If the landlord doesn't like you for whatever reason, e.g., he/she associates you with American foreign policy, then someone else (probably Swiss, yes?) gets the apartment, no questions asked. That's why the relo company is vital to our success--not just locating properties but also gutturally sweet-talking the landlord regarding our virtues and those of our 88 lb golden hairy son.

Steph did spend lots of quality time in Zürich with our new best friends whom I haven't met yet, a fellow Hyatt employee Dave (attorney) and his wife Heather who just transferred from Chicago about a month ago. Their situation mirrors ours almost exactly, just about two months earlier, which we're hoping will greatly ease our transition as they recount all their cultural and procedural snafus, of which there have been several already. The three of them had dinner two nights together this week and hit it off very well. And yes, they had sausage one night for dinner.

Steph returns on Thursday afternoon after four nights of being gone, which seems like forever when the house-husband spends all week prepping for both a house sale and a party for 100+ attendees this weekend.

The First Auf Wiedersehens

In recent weeks if we couldn't quite hear the clock ticking on our imminent departure, we certainly can after this weekend. Steph departed last Wednesday evening and I joined her Friday night in Minneapolis to spend the weekend with her parents and to visit my twin brother's family. Yes, that's correct, if you've deduced that this is the last time we'll see them in a while due to our impending continental transfer, then you understand how the gravity is slowly but surely settling on us.

The weekend itself was quite excellent--not only did we enjoy picture-perfect weather but also a wonderful succession of pleasant events. A very good Italian dinner on Friday night with Steph's folks, Barb and Jim, was followed by a classic breakfast at Perkins (triple-berry pancakes, anyone?) with brother Troy, his wife Connie and adorable twin nieces Justine and Lauren, now 2 and doing wonderfully well. They were very well behaved at breakfast and, although a little shy at first, were almost chatty by the time we kissed them goodbye (the nieces, not Troy and Connie).

We spent Saturday afternoon with Barb and Jim meandering through downtown Minneapolis, which I've visited dozens of times previously but was never exposed to this string of various excellent sights. The new Central Public Library is an architectural and technological marvel (for a library, that is) only rivaled by the spectacular nearby Guthrie Theater (pictured above) where we ate a great dinner. Between these two are the Grain Belt Bridge, the historic Mill District--currently under renovation and improvement--and very cool Stone Arch Bridge, all flanking the mighty Mississippi River amongst a series of industrial locks and dams. We also viewed the remains of the recent I-35W bridge collapse nearby, a humbling and profoundly sad sight.

We capped the evening by attending the Gophers v. Purdue football extravaganza (ha!) at the Metrodome, a mere five-minute walk from the theater. In an often comical "defense optional" display, Purdue won 45-31 to extend their record to 4-0 this year vs. creampuff teams in advance of meeting the fantastically 0-4 Notre Dame next weekend. With any luck, those trends will continue when Purdue plays ND next week and Charlie "More Pizza Please" Weis can invent more losing rhetoric before taking on the various branches of the armed forces the four following weeks. Troy and Connie also attended the game, so at halftime we said hello again followed by hugs and (temporary) goodbyes.

Steph ran a mere eight miles Sunday morning (and I joined for the final four) around Minneapolis's lovely Lake of the Isles, as she's begun tapering for the Chicago marathon now just two weeks away. Finally, after a fantastic visit, we bid Auf Wiedersehen to Barb and Jim at the airport and returned home in the early afternoon. Oh yeah, and then three hours later Steph returned to O'Hare for a return visit to Zürich this week. And I started prepping for our 125+ guest party this weekend. And our realtor stopped by. Should be an interesting week...

Job Roller Coaster

Egads, what a mess. The latest update on my job fortunes had been that my company was working to create a position for me in Europe in order to continue my valued employment and to capitalize on some unrealized European business opportunities in several different markets. While at first I hadn't expected things to work out, the vibe has actually been quite positive and I was optimistic.

Until yesterday. The two General Managers, including my boss, with Europe opportunities conducted their meeting with the COO. I wasn't in the meeting, but he apparently surprisingly shot down the proposal before they really got going. His view has merit, that is, that my move was an "opportunistic distraction" (I'm paraphrasing) from the important business strategies already in place. Said another way, the GM's can execute their current strategies and hit their goals without Europe, but if they spend extra time on me and don't hit their goals, everyone is in trouble. It's a conservative approach, and of course it was probably overly influenced by the personalities and history involved, but there you go. It's certainly not personal against me and I always knew that the timing was a risk.

So my hopes aren't officially dashed just yet, but they're probably on life support. Of course, there are pros and cons to this outcome, both financially and professionally, but I'm not sobbing in my Pilsner just yet. For his part, Hobbes is thrilled because he enjoys company during the days, as long as you don't listen to music and interrupt his napping. I'm sure this isn't the final word on this topic so stay tuned!

Meditations on Meditation

If you're counting down, it's officially about five weeks until our departure to Switzerland. The problem with moving--and especially this move--is that even though there are a zillion things to do, you can't do many in advance so that all the activity is crammed into, say, the final week. All you can do to prepare is stress about it or perhaps...not stress about it.

To that end, there's a popular local Roscoe Village vegetarian Indian brunch restaurant/bookstore with sari-wearing waitresses and lots of guru portraits--does that sound funky yet?--that's hosting a series of four free meditation classes. They've been running neighborhood fliers with the first class starting this week--perfect timing!-- so I decided to attend just to check things out (Stephanie left town on Wednesday to visit her folks in Minneapolis, thereby craftily avoiding a decision about joining me).

So why the interest? For one, I had an old Indian work colleague who meditated every morning and swore by it and he was a pretty even-keeled guy. And I must admit an interest in Eastern religion, which like it or not goes hand in hand with meditation because although meditation is indeed a technique for achieving focus and balance, it's all based in "spirituality". And aren't you curious what those 7 billion Buddhists and Hindus are up to? So I like to apply the 80/20 rule--hopefully spend 20% effort to attain 80% of the benefit of meditation, without wearing orange robes or going all "Sgt. Pepper" on everyone.

So the first class went pretty well; there were about a dozen participants, all of us without shoes, with a Caucasian teacher from the Chicago suburbs named Sedanta (probably not his birthname, eh?). In short, during 2-1/2 hours we breathed incense and listened to some sitar music and focused really hard on a candle and then some roses. We only truly "meditated" for 15 minutes because it apparently takes practice--like a lifetime of practice--before you're really good where your eyes roll back in your head and you can hear the Big Bang and you miss people calling you for dinner. Of course I'm joking, actually the class was pretty interesting and meditating appears to be a good way to escape for a few minutes and relieve some stress, albeit with a little practice.

So we'll see how I feel after three more classes. Class One mostly made me hungry. And I need to practice five minutes a day as homework. I tried yesterday morning but Hobbes didn't appreciate it when I started chanting my mantra; he thought I should be feeding him more breakfast instead and began nose-prodding me which ruined my concentration. Just a few more years of practice, I suppose...

Here Fishy, Fishy

My twin brother Troy and I have attended an annual get-together with our Green Bay high school buddies every year for something like 18 years now. It was always a camping trip, in the early days with 20 people or more but that gradually dwindled as people interjected silly reasons not to attend, like moving away or having kids or no longer enjoying sleeping on the ground unshowered for three days.

So finally it’s down to the core four—namely Carl, Randy, Troy and myself—and as of last year we don’t camp anymore, we fish. This year’s location was the majestic Lake Onalaska in La Crosse, WI. A cold front rolling in on Friday disturbed both the fish and us, although we managed to pull in enough smallmouth bass to fry up a delicious dinner that evening, along with the perfect digestifs of Captain Morgan’s, whiskey and Grain Belt Premium.

We drank and played poker until we couldn’t distinguish the card suits any longer, approximately 3am. Anaconda (as popularized by my friend Ron at work) is actually the best poker game and should replace the monotonous Hold ‘Em on ESPN. Music du jour was The Killers “Sam’s Town”, which I had earlier panned as a sophomore slump, but after 65 straight listens acknowledged that it’s pretty good. I was the big winner in poker raking in $6 with everyone else losing $2 each. Unfortunately that’s where my luck ended.

I suck at fishing. A grand total of zero fish caught over two years. This trip Troy pulled in 3, Carl 2, and Randy a whopping 11. Seeing as we were all fishing the same lake and often the exact same spot, I must admit that there is a fair amount of skill involved and in my case, sorely lacking. Lying down in the boat for 30 minutes on Saturday afternoon to assuage my hangover didn’t help my odds. And for the first time in 18 years, we didn’t booze again on Saturday night, an ominous sign that we’ve become OLD in our mid-thirties.

My big trick will be attending next year’s Wisconsin fishing extravaganza from Switzerland, but I promised to appear somehow if everyone promised to visit Europe before 2010.

Salesperson of the Year

My company’s annual sales meeting was held in Lake Geneva this year, quite coincidentally in the exact same hotel that hosted the Lake Geneva Triathlon, beginning Monday after the triathlon. So after Saturday’s successful event, Steph and I hung out with brother Trent and wife Amy at her parents' house in nearby East Troy on the lovely Lake Beulah.

For my money, the pontoon boat beats the cotton gin as best invention ever. We pontooned (verb?) all over Lake Beulah on Saturday and Sunday, enjoyed the best Bloody Mary I’ve ever tasted (no lie) from a lakeside bar (sorry, can’t remember the name), and Trent and I practiced maneuvering and capsizing his canoe. Children Hobbes and Athena as always enjoyed the time of their lives swimming and playing Frisbee fetch and were quite exhausted afterwards. Swamp Thing (Hobbes’s new name) slept for two straight days.

I showed up for the sales meeting on Sunday evening and stayed until Wednesday. During the meeting I happened to win my division’s Salesperson of the Year award because my yearly sales numbers were good and because I set an all-time company record for sales price to a new customer (“value pricing” at 40x usual retail price; it was a little tricky but I pulled it off). Although there are only two other eligible salespeople in my division and they’ve both won the award previously, it was still a nice honor. The other funny part is that I don’t really consider my job to be sales, but what can you do?

We were only marginally inebriated on Monday and Tuesday nights because our national sales meetings are notoriously low key. That’s because three years ago several people got too drunk on the golf course and started hitting golf balls at coworkers as a joke. Oops. Now they tend to frown on dangerous idiotic drunken behavior at the meeting. What a shame.

Tri Something

One significant pre-Swiss goal was accomplished Saturday morning as Todd successfully completed the Lake Geneva (WI) Olympic distance triathlon without drowning, crashing or pulling up lame. The weather was perfect, sunny with not much wind, the waters of Lake Geneva were smooth and comfortable when I splashed in with 350 others at 6:30am. Are you dying to know my times? I knew it!

0.9 mile swim - 29 minutes
25 mile HILLY bike - 1 hour, 24 minutes (17.7 mph)
6.2 mile SUPER HILLY run - 55 minutes (8:52 min/mile)

I completed this very same triathlon two years ago with a very similar result; this year was a little faster on the bike and slower on the run. So apparently I'm not aging too badly--which is positive thing--but not improving either. I hope the mountains around Switzerland (the real Lake Geneva..?) are less severe than the hills in Lake Geneva, WI, because the bike in particular this year seemed tough.

The worst part of the whole thing was my transition from swim to bike--last time took 4 minutes, this time 41 minutes. Hm. Did I really have that much trouble peeling off the wetsuit? No, actually I somehow lost my bike helmet prior to starting the race and had to stand around in the transition area waiting for poor Stephanie, who at 5:50am had sped back to our point of origin (East Troy, WI - 25 miles away) to try to locate it, because you can't ride the bike without one.

She ultimately hurriedly bought a new helmet at the local Wal Mart (at an everyday low price) only to find on her arrival that I had already biked away about ten minutes prior. How? Another poor competitor after the swim had found a flat tire on her bike, gave up on fixing it, saw me standing around and kindly lent her (slightly too small) helmet to me.

Logistical idiocy on my part aside, the event was quite fun--it's a great course--and a tremendous success. Now I slip into my post-Fall triathlon funk as I have no event to train for throughout the late fall and winter. At least we have Stephanie's thrashing of the Chicago Marathon to look forward to in early October!

Honest Day's Work (for once)

We extended our Labor Day weekend by an extra day today, primarily because we had planned to be vacationing in Mexico anyway, but also because it was a perfect "house prep" day. With approximately 55 days before departure and resolute in our (heartbreaking) decision to sell, we need to get this sucker on the market.

The biggest task at hand was gutter inspection work, since drainage was such an issue during Chicago's repeated pummeling by monsoons and tornadoes this summer. Also needing attention were some very useful 3" holes cut in the aluminum siding at the very top of the house--very useful, that is, if you need to fly in them for laying and hatching eggs in the springtime. Typical Chicago construction...who really knows why?

Although I was raised under the firm white-collar family motto "Subcontract first, ask questions later," our last experience with a Chicago subcontractor was so terrible that I couldn't bear paying some dope $500 for a few mindless (albeit elevated) tasks. So we rented a 32' extension ladder for the day, delivered from the fantastic Industrial Ladder Co. after a 25-minute phone call to the local Home Depot proved they couldn't locate their own Tool Rental department.

I've never done elevated house repair (yes, I've not done much house repair, period, thank you) but Steph reminded me that I have completed one of the world's longest bungy jumps, so I shouldn't fear. At least I'm good at free-falls..? Even so, we decided to bolster my courage last night by polishing off a bottle of Bordeaux.

Since I'm not writing from a hospital bed, obviously everything went OK today. Dealing with heights is all mental, and I did some of my best-ever work twenty five feet up. I found a half-moon shaped piece of tile that was perfectly angled over the roof drain, obviously strategically placed there by someone who hates me; removing it should solve the drainage issues. And I managed to plug the bird holes without any grievous peck wounds or permanently caulking my thumb to the siding.

After re-carpeting the downstairs bedroom on Thursday, with any luck we might have the house on the market by Sunday, after the Lake Geneva triathlon on Saturday. Wish us luck!

Toxic to Merely Polluted

With less than 60 days before departure--and after nearly 14 years of residing in this wonderful city--we have developed a list of Chicago "things to experience" before leaving. One list item was to kayak on the Chicago River, which we accomplished today!

A little kayak rental shack is hidden just east of the river near Roscoe Avenue, a mere mile walk from our house. So we kissed our loved ones goodbye (dogs, mostly), tracked down the shack, strapped on the life vests and shoved a bright yellow, tandem plastic kayak out into the torrent. Actually, the water was smooth as glass. Green glass, that is.

Formerly the sewer of Chicago, the poor river hasn't quite bounced back yet. Yet progess is being made: in 1990, the EPA upgraded its status from 'Toxic' to merely 'Very Polluted.'

Capitalizing on Todd's recent 40-mile sea-kayaking experience (as featured on my brother's blog and yes, we all blog instead of speaking to each other), we quickly took control of the rudderless kayak that "tracked like a bathtub," according to the guy who outfitted us. He was correct, as we constantly headed too far left, then too far right, then too far left, etc. We worked northward against the slight current for two miles, seeing several el trains pass on bridges above us (kinda cool) and also a close-up inspection of the old Chicago Sanitary District structure.

The trip back south with the current was easier, as we dug in to set an all-time Chicago River speed record of 5.5 mph (yes, Todd the geek brought his GPS). Finally stepping onto solid mud again and breathing the fresher air, we felt decidedly accomplished and celebrated with wieners, beer and pretzels at a local German establishment with friends Tom and Tobin.

Brutal (or Easy) Start to the Weekend

Labor Day weekend started abominably early this morning as Steph and Todd woke up at 5:30am and 6:30am (that may not sound early but believe me, it was) for training for the Chicago Marathon and Lake Geneva (WI) triathlon, respectively. That is, Steph ran 18 miles (crazy!) and Todd biked 26 and then ran 6 miles (sane!).

If you hadn't heard, the Chicago Marathon upped its quota to what feels like 170,000 participants this year. It's necessary to hit the shoestring-wide Chicago lakefront path as early as possible so that only the first 70,000 are clogging up the works, before the remaining 100,000 show up at 8:15am. Then simply add a few thousand spandex-clad jerky bikers and stir.

So Stephanie, who suffered during her 16-miler last weekend, breezed through her 18-miler today. That's just over 3 hours of running. For whatever reason, the Marathon Training gods were smiling on her. Probably because they had already decided to lash out at one of her training partners, who pulled up lame after straining (or shredding, who knows?) an unidentified lower leg muscle.

Todd didn't fare so well. The bike went okay, but I fell apart on the run. Check out the split times for the six miles: 8:34, 8:44; 8:59, 9:24, 11:00 (was I crawling?), 10:02. I may have been still dehydrated (or drunk?) from Wednesday's Cubs game. Total bike/run time was just over 2-1/2 hours. The Lake Geneva triathlon is next weekend, so I simply need to tack on a mile-long swim before the hilly bike/run and I'm done. No sweat.