It’s been a busy weekend, with no time to write. We started with the Billy Joel concert at the Moda Center and ended with The Christmas Ships light parade down the Willamette (as in Dammit) River. In between, we did the traditional dog walk/run; I went to a baseball card luncheon; We had wine-paired dinner at WillaKenzie Estates with “old” friends; We went to a “Christmas Oratorio” concert as part of services at St. Luke Lutheran Church; We had lunch at Cracker Barrel; I then watched I.U. lose the NCAA national soccer championship to Stanford, and filled any free time by reorganizing some of my sports memorabilia shelves.

My son and his wife were feeling generous this Christmas and sent me a package that my wife “mistakenly” opened. This was probably because most packages are for her, but this one was not to be opened before Christmas. Well, I guess it’s officially Christmas! They sent me a Stadium View model of Assembly Hall, the official home court of my Indiana Hoosiers. It’s now Simon Skjodt Hall due to the generous donations of the shopping center magnate’s daughter, Cynthia, and this disturbs me because it has nothing to do with basketball. If Coach Bob Knight had not been such a jerk, it probably should have been named after him and the three National Championships he delivered. Instead, we get an awkward name to pronounce thanks to her marriage to a former professional hockey player. To her credit, she’s done a lot of good with her inheritance, but unfortunately she must have failed the humility class when she attended I.U. I will not have to worry about leaving my name on anything but the son who sent me the Simon Skjodt Assembly Hall replica for Christmas.  After an extremely frustrating start to the basketball season, I also asked him to “send me a team to go with it.”

I did not mean to drift off into “Old Sport Shorts” territory, as I title some of my posts related to sports. This gives any reading regulars a chance to skip over articles that may not appeal to them. Every once in a while, I try to sneak in a few tid-bits about my passion for sports, but realize that many of you, including my wife, don’t share this interest. I’m quickly losing interest myself after watching the Trailblazers, Seahawks, Colts, and Indiana (basketball and soccer) lose over the past few days. It’s gotten so bad, I even went to church this morning. In all honesty, this rare appearance was  to support a friend singing in the choir, not to pray for victory. The ten song set was, however, only the second best concert of the weekend when compared to Billy Joel, and his rare performance of “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant.”

“A bottle of red, a bottle of white, whatever kind of mood you’re in tonight.”

Billy Joel inspired us to open more bottles of red and white in the suite for his hit-after-hit encore. The next night we continued to be in the “wine mood” for additional bottles of each, enjoying the fruits of WillaKenzie Estates coupled with a six-course meal catered by Allium. The six of us at the dinner were essentially the core of the group that traveled on the Viking retirement cruise out of Paris earlier this year. Distance and a toothache kept three of our travel companions from joining us, as food and wine brought the majority of us together once again. (See Posts #88-#91).

We did restrain ourselves and pass on the communion wine during the church service this morning. It was the first time that my wife and I had gone to church together in at least the last 10 years, so there was concern about angry, supernatural forces potentially rattling the rafters over our heads. We used to take my wife’s mother to Sunday services just after we got married, and have only set foot inside a church since for wedding ceremonies. Our own wedding took place in the Bellagio chapel, so the church was never a priority for either of us. In fact, I view sports venues like Wrigley Field and Assembly Hall with more religious significance than a church. I’ve seen miracles happen in front of my eyes!

We finished up the “weekend of wine,” standing out in the cold tonight on the banks of the Willamette River – Dammit! There were thirty or more Christmas Ships that passed by, covered in lights, blasting their horns, and playing Christmas music. The viewing party was held at the former home and studio of Chuck Palahniuk, author of Fight Club. My wife works with the new owner, who during a remodeling project recently discovered a time capsule hidden in the walls. Chuck had left them a note and an autographed copy of the novel, among other items, knowing that someday his package would be found. We were “fighting” the wind, just as we “fought” the rain the year before, waiting for this unique annual holiday river tradition to slowly float by. And that, my friends, “wines” up another festive weekend of retirement. Who’s got a bottle of Advil?