Wednesday, July 27, 2005

if I sit and think I'll go crazy

Okay, it only took me three decades, but henceforth I can be called a desi for life without dispute. Last night, I had my first glass of Chivas Regal. Neat, no less. Yikes. I am a fan of scotch, but this bottle of Chivas was from the dark ages. There were fumes coming out of bottle when my friend RK cracked it open. It was RK's mother who had the bottle, a gift from some long-forgotten occasion. As I sat sipping it timidly, I flashed back in time to several years prior, when I had first met RK. I stopped by his Hoboken apartment, and he & his wife were equal parts amused and horrified that I chose, out of all the available potables, to partake of scotch. That my friend B was drinking it like water did not surprise them; he was a strapping lad from Alabama. But they did not expect a 5'3" Indian to jump at the chance for a Glenlivet (by the by, I can't write the word Glenlivet without thinking (paraphrased) "Glenlivet, Glenfiddich, any Glen will do."). Years later, there I was in the East Bay, and my friends were pushing Chivas on me like it was my drink of choice. I asked in jest, "Is this because I'm Indian?" I asked because, growing up, I feel like this was the drink of choice amongst the uncles.

They replied, laughing, "This is because you're you!"

In an effort to honor Spare the Air day in SF yesterday, I took BART to visit RK & family in Walnut Creek. They were visiting for the week, and last night was the only time we could all synchronize our schedules. Their possession of two anklebiters kids trumped my laziness for traveling outside of the city boundaries. Whinging about going out to the 'burbs aside, I love BART, actually. It's one of my favorite forms of transit. I am lucky to live close to a BART station, and the ease and speed of commuting by BART is unparalleled in this area. Of course, that is not to say BART is better than, say, the NYC subway system. But it's head and shoulders above MUNI. Unfortunately, if the powers that be have their way, BART service will soon start to suck.

Now, I'm about to run like a chicken with its head cut off for another foray in BART travel... this time downtown to get my hair cut. I can't believe I let it get to this point. Here's hoping I come out of it mullet-free. If not, expect more posts about Chivas Regal.

No comments: