WALKING MY WAYS

WALKING MY WAYS. Last week, it was Father’s Day. Which I could sense from many angles. Including the crowds. On Friday, I went to the Carmel Valley Ranch, a well known end-destination resort. Where I rarely go. But I wanted to go, as their pastry chef has recently won a $50,000 prize, as the best pastry chef in the UNITED STATES! Salutatory and quite astonishing. So I wanted to see for myself.

And although the pastries and meal were good, what got to me, especially, was not the food, but the clientele. Countless families, including young, very young and even younger. All happy. But extremely noisy. And eating, swimming and indulging in SOME MORES. Over an outside fire. Which were on the dessert menu. Which I had never seen before. On the beach, yes. But at a fancy restaurant, no. The Ranch has also a stunning location. Magnificent Oaks all around. Surrounding a beautiful golf club. And street after street of rooms, spiffy condos and second homes. All on a 500 acre spread, in the Santa Lucia foothills.

Back in Carmel there were tourists galore. And a lot of dogs, especially poodles. Or so it seemed. Even if it wasn’t the poodle weekend. Extremely loud motorcycles, blasting away with their thunderous mufflers. A variety of languages being spoken. All over. And everyone trying to back into tight parking paces, with over sized cars. I won’t say it was chaotic. But almost. So I was happy, when I finally came back home, to my little house.

Father’s Day, like most special days, really brings out the visitors. Especially that weekend, as Friday also was Juneteenth, a Holiday. And therefore a three day weekend. And, as it was a holiday, I hung up my flag, but forgot that the Post Office was consequently closed. So I went to the Post Office but left, immediately. Empty handed. Unfulfilled. And chagrined. Finis.