California Leavin' - Day 7 - A Trivial Pursuit

I was now on a mission: Blog away, blog away, blog away all. My last day in California would largely be spent at the computer…updating my various adventures and getting them POSTED. Jen and I developed a system whereby I would write, burn, load to her computer, and post on her internet connection. It was a little time consuming but, I’m sure you’ll agree, worth the effort.
Sher arrived early for a jog with Jen before she was off to Laguna Playhouse. She was needed at work, despite her attempt to take the day off, and (after a jog induced energy burst of housekeeping) she reluctantly set off as I put a second pot of coffee on and frittered away the morning and early afternoon on the keyboard, and not much else.
10 blogs later, she returned, finalized the secret ingredients of her bean dip, chilled it, and took a nap. I packed as she did, creating a hefty donation bag for the Salvation Army of clothes I no longer intended to need.
I donned my new jeans and shoes, woke Jen around 7, and she slinked into one of her quintessential black dittys; unwrapping brie and crackers and then encasing them in cellophane, she pulled out the bean dip, put a tight lid on its pungency, grabbed a bag of Trader Joe’s chips, and off we went to the party of the night: A Trival Pursuit Themed Party at Enrique’s and Kendra’s, where I was to meet her philosophical friend Pi, and get my first taste of an LA gathering.
A few blocks from her house is where we drove, for Jen did not wish to walk carrying all the foodstuffs. We were greeted by Kendra and daughter Isabelle, who was wearing a pink grass skirt and bikini top…Izzy had had a lot of sugar, it seemed, and quickly pulled Jen into the kitchen and den area, where we unloaded the goods, and filled the room with garlic-y goodness. The kitchen counter served as a full bar with a variety of bottles…a mini keg of Heinekin was the only beer, and it had already been tapped out. I opted for Grey Goose and 7 Up as Jen mixed a rum and Coke.
Enrique (or Henry, as I came to learn) is Peruvian but looks as New England as they come. He and Kendra were generous hosts, with a shared spread of ethnic dishes and Thanksgiving leftover sandwiches with a Peruvian twist. I watched their second daughter, Katerina, make up silly dances as she moved in her own Martha Graham induced euphoria to the music in the background. We sampled the food, and a few more drinks in, I loosened up and conversed with others. I met Tom and Rudy while out back for a smoke, always a good ice breaker.
Jen introduced me to Pi, an intelligent middle eastern man clad in a wool cardigan which only further made him look like he’d just finished his thesis; all he needed was a pipe to complete the picture. The sprigs of gray hair on his temporals were an ode to the wisdom of a disciplined individual. The evening in essence would become his; while the rest of the guests got bombed, Pi was destined to sip his club soda and succumb to frustration as the only person in the room taking the game seriously. Soon Jen and I were on the same team (there were only two teams among the forty guests), but I found myself out on the patio for another smoke as my interest in the game waned, and Henry joined me outside.
He pulled out a pack of Dunhills, which he only smokes once a year, and this is the night. The Trivial Pursuit tradition has been going on for several years, and it’s a credit to him and his hospitality. He offered me one of the Triple A Class cigarettes, and I found myself in deep conversation with my host for a good hour. We intermittently chimed in to the game with answers and votes, but mostly kept outside as he downed his scotches and I polished off more Grey Goose.
We were joined by Jen and Rudy and a few others outside, creating our own little clique. Rudy and Jen found themselves tucked into a corner deep in conversation, and then Henry gained interest in a young lady from Iraq, who had escaped during the Gulf War…they became engrossed in political rhetoric…and I suddenly felt the effects of all that vodka; it was time to go.
Jen escorted me out and dropped me off to la la land, and headed back to the par-tay. Incredibly, she somehow managed to wake up at 5 am in order to see me off at John Wayne Airport. We bid farewell, with Jen noting that she was only “half as sad” that I was leaving, for she knew I’d be back soon.
I boarded the flight for Phoenix with a splintering headache. Next time I go to a party in California, I’m bringing beer.
So ends the California Chronicles. I will spare you the details on the flight delays, missed connections, lost luggage – and finding my car back in Philly; my adventure ended as frustratingly as it began…but all things considered, it does make a nice pair of bookends to a world I never knew existed.
And I am now ready to explore it. Let’s begin.