Weekend up the coast

In a perfect world, we would all be living in Santa Barbara. Fabulous weather, gorgeous palms, the azure waters of the pacific resting off of our port side. Handsome children with exceptional confirmation and straight teeth, life's most pressing concerns might be perhaps deciding between a few volleys of tennis or a trip to the day spa. Alas, I must blame my lack of the necessary je ne sais quoi to settle into the ancestral home of the Chumash on my parents for not birthing me into the requisite tax bracket to permit my living in the custom in which I would like to grow accustomed.

Of course now it is not even enough to be filthy rich to live in these parts, now you have to be mega super rich, Oprah and Maria Shriver rich, two celebs who are regularly sighted in the pricey burg.

I am up here of course to do an antique show, a show with the lovely sobriquet of The C.A.L.M. Show. C.A.L.M. is a charity for abused kids. It is being held at the Earl Warren Showgrounds, with the cremé of my business peers. The waiting list for the show is 18 years, I was a last minute fill in.

I feel pretty good about displaying my wares to new clientele. It will all be fresh to them. The booth looks really good. Unfortunately I feel really awful, my throat is scratchy, I have a slight fever and I am worried about getting myself and others really sick. Not a lot I can do except try not to breathe and smile. No help so I will tough it out and hope for the best. As my friends are aware, I am no walk in the park when I am feeling lousy.

I am staying at the Holiday Inn and will switch rooms tonight so that I can get one with a bathtub. When I have a cold I go into a serious hot bath mode. The hotel is all right. I thought that the free breakfast buffet was amazing yesterday. Waffles, made to order omelets, fruit of every description. Quite the deal. I went back this morning and the server quickly handed me the bill for morning fare. Oops. Guess I dined and dashed. The old chew and screw. Will settle up.

I went out seeking chicken soup last night and on the recommendation of a security guard, found Rincon Bohemia near Hope Ranch. Maybe the worst chicken soup I have ever tasted. Tough chunks of fowl swimming in a crude broth of squash and potato. I downed it anyway.

Driving through Hope Ranch really gives you an idea of how the other half lives. Beautiful Spanish Revival mansions dotting the most spectacular golf course. Just idyllic. The Santa Ynez mountains to the east forming the border of what is sometimes called the American Riviera.

*

Will correspond as boredom sets in and the day and weekend progresses.