The last time we went was 2011. See the my August 25, 2011 post about that day.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
The Park City Parade of Homes
I had a nice day last Saturday. I woke up around 4:30, washed a load of clothes, read several on-line newspapers, made breakfast for myself, read the Salt Lake Tribune; all before the Lovely Sharon got up. After she was up, I went to Einstein’s Bagels and bought her a cup of coffee and brought it back to the house to her. She prefers the Einstein’s coffee over home made coffee. The coffee has to be just so. I put it in her favorite travel mug. For just a fill up of a travel mug, Einstein charges $1.13 including tax. So I walked into Einstein’s, deposited $1.13 on their counter and waved at them. I then go to the coffee bar and put a little half and half in the mug. Then I fill the mug about half full with neighborhood roast decaf and then top the whole thing off with non- decaf Hazelnut flavored coffee. I then put the lid on the travel mug and head home where I hand the Lovely Sharon her coffee.
The Lovely Sharon is not a morning person, and she was still in her robe, bare feet and hair askew when I handed her the mug. Despite barely out of bed, she looked kind of cute. As I handed her the mug she mumbled something to me. It sounded like she said “When is Thanksgiving”. But after thinking it about it, I think she said “Thank You”. She then looked at me in that way that signaled that she wanted me to do something. I know the look; it is as obvious as a pointer dog standing on 3 legs pointing a pheasant in the brush. You cannot see the bird but you know its there. Same thing with that “look” of Sharon. You don’t know what she wants, but you know she wants something.
She finally said, “You know, (the words “You know” were spoken softly, maybe even sexily (sort of like Marilyn Monroe’s “Happy Birthday Mr. President”) the Park City Parade of Homes is on today. Do you want to go? Will you go with me?”
I responded with “I don’t want to go but I will go with you since you asked me to.”
She said “Well if you don’t want to go you don’t have to go.”
I chortled back, “Even if I don’t want to go, I will go because you asked me to go.”
For the next several minutes we discussed, in the ways of the great philosophers Nietzsche, Kant, Descartes and Confucius, why not only had I agreed to go to the Park City Parade of Homes with the Lovely Sharon, which I had done immediately as recited above, I should also “want to go” to the Park City Parade of Homes.
The Lovely Sharon indicated that philosopher Nietzche had reasoned there are two types of morality: a master morality that springs actively from the "noble man", and a slave morality that develops reactively within the weak man. These two moralities do not present simple inversions of one another. They form two different value systems: master morality fits actions into a scale of 'good' or 'bad' whereas slave morality fits actions into a scale of "good" or "evil". I should be the Noble Man and want to go to the Park City Parade of Homes.
It was hard for me to understand but after careful explanation by the Lovely Sharon, I realized that not only would I willingly go to the Park City Parade of Homes with her because she asked me to go, but now I also realized that I wanted to go to the Park City Parade of Homes. Her careful explanation of things made me, in the way of philosopher Rene Descarte’s reasoning, come to the realization that:
The Lovely Sharon can be described as nothing less than a Master of sublime reasoning.
OK, enough of the metaphysical aspects of my new reality that I wanted to go to the Park City Parade of Homes. I headed to the Bud Cave to shower and she headed to her bathroom to do the same. We agreed to meet in the kitchen in 30 minutes all cleaned, dressed and ready to go to the Park City Parade of Homes, where we both wanted to go. I showered, shaved, washed my hair and dressed. I thought I looked nice as I was wearing black silk Tommy Bahama type shorts, white anklet type golf socks (I know men are not suppose to call any socks anklets but heck, that is what they are) and one of my favorite tee shirts. The shirt was a light purple tee shirt with the words “Collings Guitar” on the left breast and a picture of a Collings Guitar on the back. I have a wonderful Collings Guitar and so does Son Alex. These wonderful instruments are true works of art. I love the tee shirt.
When I arrived in the kitchen at the appointed time, the Lovely Sharon was there and I must say she looked beautiful in a Jamie Sadock ladies golf outfit. She looked ready for the links. She looked me over and her focus stopped on my wonderful purple Collings Guitar tee shirt. It had been hanging in my closet and had been freshly washed. I knew she thought I looked good.
She said “there is a spot on your shirt.”
In disbelief I told her that it was freshly washed and dried. She said “none the less, there is a spot on it, go and change.”
I did as instructed. I found another nice, deeper purple, tee shirt with no words on it. I checked it out and was pleased to see no spots on it. I tucked it into my black silk shorts and ascended to the kitchen from the Bud Cave. She looked at me like she just saw a dog get run over. She said “You are not wearing that tee shirt and in fact you are not wearing any tee shirt. We will be going into expensive and nice homes and you need to wear a golf shirt.”
We did the Nietzche thing again and I realized that not only did I want to go to the Park City Parade of Homes, I wanted to wear a golf shirt and so I went back down to the Bud Cave to select a golf shirt. I must say, I was nervous in my selection process. I had to find a golf shirt that would not only look good with my black silk shorts, it needed to be a shirt that would pass muster with the Lovely Sharon. I selected an orange golf shirt that had never been worn. It still had the tags on it. I put it on and then looked in the mirror. It looked good to me. I think my golf buddies would like it but I wonder what response I would get from the Lovely Sharon.
For the third time since my shower, I ascended the stairs from the Bud Cave to the kitchen. I walked to the Lovely Sharon and turned around; much like a prospective bride models a wedding dress for her mother. I almost leapt with joy when the Lovely Sharon said “You look ok.” But then she looked at my white golf socks (my anklets”). Apparently I had not pulled one of them all the way up and it was bunched low around my ankle. Sharon bent down and straightened it and said “OK now we can go.”
I let out a sigh of relief and headed to the garage door. On my way out I grabbed a “Black Chicken” Zinfandel Wine golf hat from the Biale Winery and put it on my head. She looked at me, shook her head and said “no way buster that makes your face look like a basketball.”
I took off the hat.
The houses at the Park City Parade of Homes were nice and there were a lot of visitors. By the third home I realized that I was the only man not wearing a tee shirt, and one of only 10 men not wearing a golf hat.
As we drove to Kamas for dinner after 8 hours of looking at homes and going to the Park City outlet stores, I looked over at the Lovely Sharon in the passenger seat of my Buick Enclave. She looked just as lovely as she had looked in the morning and I realized, just as Descartes had realized, I am lucky to be married to the Lovely Sharon.
The Lovely Sharon is not a morning person, and she was still in her robe, bare feet and hair askew when I handed her the mug. Despite barely out of bed, she looked kind of cute. As I handed her the mug she mumbled something to me. It sounded like she said “When is Thanksgiving”. But after thinking it about it, I think she said “Thank You”. She then looked at me in that way that signaled that she wanted me to do something. I know the look; it is as obvious as a pointer dog standing on 3 legs pointing a pheasant in the brush. You cannot see the bird but you know its there. Same thing with that “look” of Sharon. You don’t know what she wants, but you know she wants something.
She finally said, “You know, (the words “You know” were spoken softly, maybe even sexily (sort of like Marilyn Monroe’s “Happy Birthday Mr. President”) the Park City Parade of Homes is on today. Do you want to go? Will you go with me?”
I responded with “I don’t want to go but I will go with you since you asked me to.”
She said “Well if you don’t want to go you don’t have to go.”
I chortled back, “Even if I don’t want to go, I will go because you asked me to go.”
For the next several minutes we discussed, in the ways of the great philosophers Nietzsche, Kant, Descartes and Confucius, why not only had I agreed to go to the Park City Parade of Homes with the Lovely Sharon, which I had done immediately as recited above, I should also “want to go” to the Park City Parade of Homes.
The Lovely Sharon indicated that philosopher Nietzche had reasoned there are two types of morality: a master morality that springs actively from the "noble man", and a slave morality that develops reactively within the weak man. These two moralities do not present simple inversions of one another. They form two different value systems: master morality fits actions into a scale of 'good' or 'bad' whereas slave morality fits actions into a scale of "good" or "evil". I should be the Noble Man and want to go to the Park City Parade of Homes.
It was hard for me to understand but after careful explanation by the Lovely Sharon, I realized that not only would I willingly go to the Park City Parade of Homes with her because she asked me to go, but now I also realized that I wanted to go to the Park City Parade of Homes. Her careful explanation of things made me, in the way of philosopher Rene Descarte’s reasoning, come to the realization that:
“something which I thought I was seeing with my eyes is in fact
grasped solely by the faculty of judgment which is in my mind”
The Lovely Sharon can be described as nothing less than a Master of sublime reasoning.
OK, enough of the metaphysical aspects of my new reality that I wanted to go to the Park City Parade of Homes. I headed to the Bud Cave to shower and she headed to her bathroom to do the same. We agreed to meet in the kitchen in 30 minutes all cleaned, dressed and ready to go to the Park City Parade of Homes, where we both wanted to go. I showered, shaved, washed my hair and dressed. I thought I looked nice as I was wearing black silk Tommy Bahama type shorts, white anklet type golf socks (I know men are not suppose to call any socks anklets but heck, that is what they are) and one of my favorite tee shirts. The shirt was a light purple tee shirt with the words “Collings Guitar” on the left breast and a picture of a Collings Guitar on the back. I have a wonderful Collings Guitar and so does Son Alex. These wonderful instruments are true works of art. I love the tee shirt.
When I arrived in the kitchen at the appointed time, the Lovely Sharon was there and I must say she looked beautiful in a Jamie Sadock ladies golf outfit. She looked ready for the links. She looked me over and her focus stopped on my wonderful purple Collings Guitar tee shirt. It had been hanging in my closet and had been freshly washed. I knew she thought I looked good.
She said “there is a spot on your shirt.”
In disbelief I told her that it was freshly washed and dried. She said “none the less, there is a spot on it, go and change.”
I did as instructed. I found another nice, deeper purple, tee shirt with no words on it. I checked it out and was pleased to see no spots on it. I tucked it into my black silk shorts and ascended to the kitchen from the Bud Cave. She looked at me like she just saw a dog get run over. She said “You are not wearing that tee shirt and in fact you are not wearing any tee shirt. We will be going into expensive and nice homes and you need to wear a golf shirt.”
We did the Nietzche thing again and I realized that not only did I want to go to the Park City Parade of Homes, I wanted to wear a golf shirt and so I went back down to the Bud Cave to select a golf shirt. I must say, I was nervous in my selection process. I had to find a golf shirt that would not only look good with my black silk shorts, it needed to be a shirt that would pass muster with the Lovely Sharon. I selected an orange golf shirt that had never been worn. It still had the tags on it. I put it on and then looked in the mirror. It looked good to me. I think my golf buddies would like it but I wonder what response I would get from the Lovely Sharon.
For the third time since my shower, I ascended the stairs from the Bud Cave to the kitchen. I walked to the Lovely Sharon and turned around; much like a prospective bride models a wedding dress for her mother. I almost leapt with joy when the Lovely Sharon said “You look ok.” But then she looked at my white golf socks (my anklets”). Apparently I had not pulled one of them all the way up and it was bunched low around my ankle. Sharon bent down and straightened it and said “OK now we can go.”
I let out a sigh of relief and headed to the garage door. On my way out I grabbed a “Black Chicken” Zinfandel Wine golf hat from the Biale Winery and put it on my head. She looked at me, shook her head and said “no way buster that makes your face look like a basketball.”
I took off the hat.
The houses at the Park City Parade of Homes were nice and there were a lot of visitors. By the third home I realized that I was the only man not wearing a tee shirt, and one of only 10 men not wearing a golf hat.
As we drove to Kamas for dinner after 8 hours of looking at homes and going to the Park City outlet stores, I looked over at the Lovely Sharon in the passenger seat of my Buick Enclave. She looked just as lovely as she had looked in the morning and I realized, just as Descartes had realized, I am lucky to be married to the Lovely Sharon.
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