Give ’til it hurts, people; that’s my credo. While some people might choose to spend their non-Californian vacation philosophizing from the couch under the influence of a heady mix of Cheez-Doodles and Lake Como fumes I made a conscious decision to once again sacrifice myself for my state, my New Jersey.
Settle back children and let me explain. We’ve been been having a severe bout of dry weather, with no measurable rain for the past four weeks and, as of last Wednesday, none forecast of any note for this week that we are currently in the midst of. What to do? Sit idly by whilst my beloved Garden State emparchifies to an extra brown crispytude? No!
The situation called for action, and not the “I-won’t-rest-until-the-damn-hole-is-plugged-aside-from-my-three-vacations-and-7-rounds-of-golf” type of “action.” No Sirree folks, I’m talking Smart Action™, the kind that shows that over-heated trollop Gaia what’s what.
How to get it to rain…hmmm. Obviously, plan a week-long event that requires good weather. And not only plan it, but truly commit to it so that Gaia really believes that ruining the event would be crushing. Ah, she’s almost too easy.
My plan had multiple levels: I took this whole week off. I got tee-times for every day. I power washed the deck in preparation for staining it. And I bought a couple of gallons of stain. Layer upon layer of subterfuge, all earnestly played out by Yours Truly.
Behold, my friends, what 10 am this morning brought:
We are now under a flood watch.
Mind you, I’m at 200′ or so above sea level, so it would be one hell of a flood, but the point is Gaia fell for it hook, line and sinker.
How to celebrate my triumph for my Jersey? What small token should I bestow upon myself as a modest tribute to my efforts?
As I was meandering through the Foodtown in Red Bank I heard my name being called…”Bingley…Bingley…BINGLEY!!!. I, I couldn’t resist. I know that I should have, I know-know-know that when I hear little voices calling out to me it’s generally a really bad idea to listen to them.
But I could not say no
Nearly 2 pounds of Angussy porterhouseian goodness. I feel really badly about spending this much money just on myself, but I find some consolation in the fact that this meal would cost me over $70 in a restaurant.
Ok, that’s a lie. I find some consolation and a hell of a lot of joy in the fact that I am going to eat this whole steak by myself and wash it down with a nice bottle of wine.
All in the service of New Jersey.