I am having such a hard time getting work done today. Ready to go home and Rest.

Help the kids I coach!
We don't have to tell you this: hockey is expensive! We all make choices, give up luxuries and even some necessities to make hockey possible for our kids. Some families have already given up necessities and still their players may not be able to participate this season without a scholarship. The NorCal Rep Organization, a not-for-profit 501(c)(3) entity dedicated to helping the Jr. Sharks Tier Hockey Program, has been making scholarships happen for the past two years. We had an overwhelming 11 scholarship applications this year, and as such the funds are now depleted. Thus, we are asking for your contribution.

We make this request to provide immediate assistance to members of our own hockey family while the Fundraising Committee puts in place infrastructure to sustain fundraising throughout the season and beyond. We are excited about the work we have to do this season and we would appreciate your participation. Interested? Call us! In the meantime, your tax-deductible donation in the amount of $10 per family will benefit many kids within the club who need our help. There are roughly 90 boys and 40 girls playing Tier hockey so you can see that a direct donation of $10 per family will make a difference! While our immediate goal is to grant scholarships, our ultimate goal is to reduce the cost of hockey for all club members. Please send your donation to: Mr. Lou Silver, NorCal Rep Treasurer, 941 West Hedding Street, San Jose, CA 95126. Checks only please, reference 77-058522 on your check and for tax deduction purposes. Thank you!

Last night at the Sharks game, there was big adventure to be had. I was there as Dawn's escort, she's on the Jr Girls team I help coach, they were playing a 2 minute exhibition between periods. There was much hassle in getting the kids there, being escorted to the dressing room 2 hours before the game started, then going to our (free!) seats in half of their gear. On the way to our seats, we saw a bunch of the Edmonton Oilers stretching in their little Oilers jumpsuits (these fine garments look a lot like my dad's pajamas). Once in our seats, 1 mile off the ice, the girls had to leave 5 minutes into the 1st period to finish getting dressed. They got all ready and headed to the ice entrance, where many of them became very nervous. I was all excited, I've never been so close to an NHL game, I about wet myself when they had a face off not 15 feet away from us and when two guys crashed into the boards RIGHT THERE before my eyes. I look up and see that Glen's section is right in front of me, so I whip out the cell phone to tell him "LOOK AT ME! I'M OVER HERE!" when Elise, one of our skaters, starts crying, she's so nervous (gee, why? You're only about to play hockey in an NHL arena before 10,000 fans. The phone ringing, my moment of Glen Glory at hand, I hang up the phone and hug Elise, telling her to imagine all those people in their underwear.

As I'm standing there, I feel a full body check and spin around to shout "HEY!" but notice that it's Sharky, the mascot, who will be skating with the girls. Note: there seems to be more than one Sharky, one who skates and one who runs around like a moron.

The girls played great and I made myself useful by taking pictures through those cool holes in the glass for the press with my friend Christina's camera.

Andrea's right, we could never get our gang to pose like those well-behaved dogs in the photo.

What is it about puppies and cotton balls? Any new bag left unattended is sure to be strewn across the lawn. Later, Rainie decides to get into a bag of dog food while I'm sitting not 5 feet away. Punks.

The Daily Drool is discussing why we have bassets, here's our story:
We came to be devout Basset Moms in a roundabout way. First we were beagle moms, adopting 1, then a 2nd senior beagle in 1999 and 2000. Ellie came to us in April of 2000, at least 13 years old, had a gigantic tumor on her leg and was out of time in a shelter. We vowed to keep her happy and let her go to the Bridge in peace when it was time.

In October of 2000, Ellie's time was up. She'd had 6 months, 8 days of love, walks, dog park visits, McDonald's cheeseburgers, Krispy Kreme donuts and our hearts.

After her death, Arizona Basset Rescue was looking for donations to help with bassets they'd rescued from a puppy mill. I gave some money, asking that the sickest, hardest to place dog be named after Ellie, since there was nothing placeable about our Ellie.

Elliemama the basset was very pregnant and sick with tick fever. We watched her progress and 12 pups were born on Dec 31, 2000. At this point, we fell in love with Mama and asked about adopting her. It seems that Walt and Dena had also fallen for Mama so she'd be staying with them but Dena asked if we'd like to adopt a puppy?

A PUPPY? We're senior dog people, not puppy people!! No way!

But we watched them grow, saw their personalities emerge and knew in our hearts that these pups were our Ellie's grandbabies. So in early May of 2000, we went to Phoenix from San Jose armed with a Sherpa bag and brought our Rainie Roo pup home on the plane. From the moment she arrived in our home, we knew it was love. We met Elliemama and her family in Pasadena that Christmas for the DooDah (RooDah to us!) parade and got to see Rainie play with her littermates, Lexie and Rockie. It was amazing to see their bond and I told Dena that if any of the pups ever came back to the rescue, we'd like to adopt another one. Of course, I figured this would be after our 2 senior dogs were gone.

But no, this spring, Dena writes again, this time about Patrick, Rainie's littermate. We hemmed and hawed, not wanting 4 dogs in our home, but very much wanting Patrick. Eventually, we said yes (how could we not?) and met Patrick in Pasadena for the Basset Spring Games.

Now that he's been home a while, we know that the only thing better than 1 Roo is 2!

As always, I can't thank Dena and her tireless team of volunteers for raising the world's most wonderful, well-adjusted litter of pups and for allowing not just one but two of them to come into my life.

Speaking of Alice and of Good Things, I realized last week that Mr. Patrick is the best thing to happen to me since Alice. He's funny, sweet, silly, not too bright, and loves to follow me around. Every time I'm in a new room, I look back and there he is, asleep on the floor, but will wag his tail if I even look his way. I turned on the heat this morning for the first time of the season. I'm standing at the thermostat listening for the great whoosh of confirmation that the pilot light is lit when Patrick starts howling. In case you were wondering, that whoosh is not audible over howling.

Andrea had a dream about Alice last night. All of our dogs were running around the house in a pack, having fun, when she saw this flash of yellow and was like 'wait a minute!'. Al pulled out of line, smiled and wagged her tail and Andrea, then went back into the pack. She did this a few times, as Andrea tried to call her over. Alice wouldn't come, she was too busy having fun with the other dogs. I can only hope Al is saying hi and that she approves of our pack. I still miss her so very much.

There's this guy who drives a van around the Bay Area that's covered in literature about the truth behind the murder of John Lennon. He feels quite passionately that the culprit was in fact Stephen King and has written a book about the topic. Thank God he's entered the modern age and has a lovely website, for all you who want to know what really happened that day. I know it involves a grassy knoll and something about back, and to the left.

Nobody is blogging today. I guess after the fun of Reno and it's aftermath (oww! My spleen!) we're out of engery for fun things like Tourette's. However, if Amy rolled up in the Peppermill pirate ship float, I'd hop on with glee. I can't wait until our photo essay comes back from that nice man at the Fotomat.

Looking to trade Gold Ranch casino chips? Here's your guy.

And Glen is right, International people *do* all like Reno. How could you not? It's the land of splendor and the Gold Ranch Casion and RV Park, where the on-site resturant is Jack in the Box. If only it were staffed by Mormons, it would be perfect.

I hardly got any sleep last night. I was all wired up from the game (we lost but had fun) so I laid there thinking 'I still have 3 hours until I have to get up.' At one point Andrea was snoring so I called her a showoff. Now I'm very tired and perhaps a bit on the grumpy side.

In our house, if you call Rainie or Patrick, you get 2 bassets for the price of 1, as both come running. What a deal. Add that to my list of ways to save money.

I did not mention that there is a rainstorm in the Peppermill buffet. They also serve FaJitas and there was a statue wearing a fez made from an upside down casino coin cup right outside the ladies REST room.

While I was gone, Andrea used all the soap making products she's amassed and made a tray full of lovely soaps! Doggie foot print soap, little teeny turtle sitting on top of the soap soap, soap with massage bumps in it, soaps with Chinese and celtic characters on it, super dyke symbol soaps, a delightful soap adventure! Now we'll be clean in style.

On being captain
I'm the captain of 2 out of the 4 teams I play on (not all are full-time, 1 is half, one is as a sub). It has it's moments but I'm finding out that there's a lot more work involved than you could ever imagine and that as captain, it's almost impossible to warm up properly or get in a good stretch because people have lots of questions. No matter how many times I send out the schedule, people won't think to save it or print it out, no matter how I struggle to make lines that work well together, they'll bitch about their position (though thankfully, this is getting to be less and less as I keep them as consistent as possible), no matter how even I try to make it, some will bitch about ice time.

I urge everyone to just relax and have fun. That is the point of this after all. And yes, of course I should take my own advice but as captain/conceierge I feel compelled to make everyone happy. I need to find my own happy medium that lets me have some fun, too, without worrying quite so much.

Summer must be over, it's FREEZING in here. I'm working from home because I was supposed to be in on an exciting conference call at 8 am. This was of course cancelled late last nite but at that point I figured, screw it, I'm exhausted, 2 hours of extra sleep is a good idea. So I'm here, cold but unlike the office, I have the power to change that.

I am utterly exhausted from the trip. But it was great fun. Everyone should stay at the Peppermill. As I work, I keep expecting scantily clad women to offer me cocktails.

Oh, and we learned that showercaps make lovely additions to anyone's wardrobe.

Ahh Reno. Where to begin to describe our Great Adventure? I'll make a list, details maybe to follow:

• The mormons at Wal-Mart in Tracy, offering to help find the NUTS in our family tree
• Fully halloween decorated scooters headed toward the same Wal-Mart
• The trying on of hats
• My postcard of lovely downtown Tracy
• Boomtown -- not the land of plenty
• Our fine LODGE room at the Peppermill, who needs a jacuzzi or a wet bar anyway? Besides, track lighting is overrated.
• Glen's pimpin grand suite at the Peppermill.
• Glen being unable to turn off the sexy track liteing in said room
• Snaggletooth in the pool
• Posing on the Peppermill's float when a parade was nowhere nearby
• Have a Rice Day
• The Gold Ranch casino
• Glen racing across the outlet mall parking lot at full speed, with the security guard in hot pursuit, at full speed in his golf cart
• Honking at a Reno native who was ready to throw down because we wanted to wave at him
• The meat.
• Our new best friend, Anna Dong.