One small yo-yo trick for mankind.

So the not very interesting part of my night last night was peeing next to Al Unser Sr.

Here's how I got there:

For the last race of the season, Infineon raceway hosts a dinner fundraiser for a charity they work with. As Infineon's agency, we had several tickets to the event. I snagged two. Any trip to Sonoma is gasoline well burned. I invited my friend Stephanie and picked up fellow copywriter Philip and his lovely lady Violet. As we made our way to Sonoma in Juju the MINI, we were quite excited because Chuck Yeager was listed as the Grand Marshal for the IRL race the next day and we hoped he would make an appearance.

We arrived at the Jacuzzi, yes the perma-bubble bath inventers, winery fashionably late and found Jessie, account person, and Matt, her man. After meeting and thanking the President of Infineon we wandered about what could only be called an Italian estate replica complete with church and piazza. Quite picturesque. Eventually we were given our table assignment. There were at least 20, if not more. And as my delicious dinner of filet o' steak quickly disappeared, entertainment was appearing on stage. Before I go further, I should mention that Stephanie who is normally a vegetarian finished her steak before I did. Obviously, quite good.

So I was floored when Rick Mears and Al Unser were introduced and brought up on stage. There in front of me were two men who had won a combined 8 Indy 500s. They spoke about their approach to racing and what they loved about it. It was incredible to watch legendary history reflect on itself.

And then it got nuts.

The President of Infineon got back on stage and said they had a special guest they wanted to bring up. Someone who was a race fan and had called him to see if he could get tickets to the race that weekend. Under the table, my fingers were crossed for Chuck Yeager.

Nope. Neil Armstrong. The first man on the moon Neil Armstrong. The Neil Armstrong. Walks up on stage.

So Steve, the Infineon President begins to ask Neil some questions. Neil tells us that the astronauts used to have a little nip off the bottle before they would strap into the rockets. And to be quite honest, who could blame them? But he also said they would be straightened out by the time they got to the moon. Comforting. And hysterical.

Steve then asks Neil why he didn't do a stunt like Alan Shepard and hit a golf ball? Neil responds that he did do a trick but Buzz left the lens cap on the camera. He says he yo-yo'd on the moon. Seriously. He then proceeds to show us a full repertoire of yo-yo tricks. All the tricks from my Duncan yo-yo trick book that I could never ever master. Rock the cradle, Moon launch, shoot the moon, everything. And he's doing them well. So here I am in the audience watching Neil Armstrong doing yo-yo tricks from my childhood. To music. With a little shuffling dance in between tricks that made him appear like the cartoon dog Mutley. Obviously Neil was chosen for more than just his flying abilities. The man is a natural born show man.

Once this was over, the crowd clapped heartily and started to file out. I made my way over to Neil. Surprisingly, not many people did. After introducing myself, I shook his hand. He's a bit short. And obviously an incredibly funny and mischievous man. He is full of personality.

After the shock wore off, I headed for the exit and decided to duck into the bathroom. At which point, Al Unser walks in after me. There's a bit of a line and eventually Al Unser is using the stall right next to me. In my head I pondered the glance to see if his cajones are indeed made of brass, but I decided just to believe that they are. How else could he have driven that fast for that long?

Once I was back outside Stephanie decided she also wanted to meet Neil. So she and Violet went off to find him while I stood in the courtyard still in shock. Apparently he said to her, "No, no, I don't give handshakes to ladies," and offered her a hug. Which, according to Steph, went on a little longer than the standard hug and apparently included some belly rubbing. Sheer genius.

So on the way home finally, we were all in awe of the entire evening. It was beyond words. We just kept asking each other if it actually happened. Well, if it didn't then we all had the exact same very vivid dream.

My first Carolina fan.

I'm getting more and more excited as football season approaches. Carolina's last coach was a good man but it seems not a great coach. That changed when we hired Butch Davis who has brought plenty of excitement to the program.

Several of my fraternity brothers are moving to the area this fall for various grad school programs so I'll definitely have someone to watch games with. Now if I can just figure out where.

I also met my first real life Carolina fan the other night. Ironically enough, she was my cab driver. She had attended Carolina a few years prior to my arrival on campus and had been a Biology major. From the stories she gave it a good go but in the end she was made for other pursuits. But she couldn't have been happier as we talked. And she certainly had not lost her love for the Heels.

To keep me feeling at home, I'm co-hosting a pig-pickin' here at the agency with an Art Director who also calls NC home. SunDrop. Cheerwine. Pig. Slaw. Buns. All the goodness one could want. We'll sit on the roof in the shadow of the Transamerica building and show CA just how it's done.

So, now that I know there are fans here, and a bit of pig, that's just a little more of home.

SF Profile #3: The Level 7 Towel Fu Master

Viciously he assaults the firebox without mercy. Strike after strike with what appear to be common dish towels. (A firebox is literally a red box on a pole with a phone in it in case there's a fire nearby. After the "big quake" where half the city burned, they're a bit twitchy about fire around here.)

Back to our hero. As I walked up Van Ness Street, he continued to slay the box with three towels and skills obviously learned from years spent studying Drunken Master technique. The sway. The off kilter, ravishing attacks. The incoherent smack-talk. Eventually one of the three towels fell from his grasp but our hero pressed on. Behind the back. Swirl technique. The fall down fake.

I could not stay to see if he ever found mercy and finished the firebox. I was walking toward a theater up the street to meet a friend for the Simpsons movie. Somehow I think the firebox survived. Being iron and what not.

A gym with a view

In the workout area of my Y, are several windows that face out over the bay. You can see the ferries going in and out, sailboats depending on the wind, and on occasion great big behemoths delivering more and more trade deficit from China. It's just ridiculous that something as simple as the Y, has this incredible view over the docks of the Embarcadero. Sure my membership is more than twice what I was paying in Winston but I guess that's the cost of wonderment.

Work is good. We're working on a bit of new biz. Tequila client which could be fun. It is after all one of my two favorite liquors and the one that seems to conjure up the best stories among friends. We've been so busy with other clients that not much attention has been given to the "war room." I hope that changes soon. If we are successful, we will have a chance to create this brand from scratch. Having attempted that once before, I hope we are more thoughtful about the process at my new agency.

I have found a favorite client. The San Francisco Food Bank. Right now I'm piggy backing on work that was created before I got there but I feel the radio I've written is pretty good. It's not all world and some of it might even be a bit trite but I think it will be effective for them. Also, it's great to work on something that at one point in my early past, could have even helped my family.

I've also realized just how lucky I am in the roommate scenario. Trav is a good guy and we get on well. We're both similar and different enough that we have good stories and interesting thoughts to tell each other at the end of the day.

I've also found that I now live in a city where there can be too much to do. Sometimes you just want to take it easier than the city will let you. You find yourself craving a movie in the afternoon. A book on the couch. But, it's certainly better than being forced to be that calm because there is nothing else.

I do miss my family and great friends. Although I also find many of them are all too willing to come and visit. And now that there is a futon in our extra bedroom, all of you are more than welcome.

About the only thing I've got to figure out now, is where I'm going to watch Carolina Football games at 9 in the morning.