Until they help me out and get the ticker actually ticking, the day we are counting down to is:
SATURDAY, AUGUST 7th 2010
Friday, November 27, 2009
The Countdown Begins ... Officially Part 2
A giant storm-cloud blocked the ray of sun shining on my ticker. This one doesn't work either. Let's be honest, it probably does, I just can't get it to. I'm quickly regretting calling my future brother-in-laws "(annoyingly) computer literate". Hopefully the comparison to Shakespeare makes up for it.
The Countdown Begins ... Officially
Yes, we have picked a date. More on all of this process later. For now, just enjoy the not so nifty ticker on the right side of the page. I've been very excited about installing this since the countdown sort of began many months ago. I had some ideas of grandeur for the layout: shooting stars, exploding fireworks, maybe a champagne bottle uncorking. But alas, I am computer technology illiterate. It's taken me four frustrating internet sessions hunting down a "countdown plugin" that actually works, or more truthfully, that I can get to work. This is what I've come up with. Well, for now anyway, until I consult with either of my two future brother-in-laws. They are both (annoyingly) computer literate, like Shakespeare literate, and one of them is an artist. I'm sure the pedestrian, half-baked excuse for a countdown display is grating every esthetic sensibility in his soul right now. If I weren't so proud of the fact that there is an actual ticker in my blog that is ticking I'd be scowling at it too. But I'm not. In fact, I'm half convinced I see a golden glow around the damn thing - the sun shining on my tech-savvy moment.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Hunting the Hunter Part II
Where was I? Right...
THE TIGER CUB
Just past the main drag where the ritzier realty establishments house themselves we found a place specializing in lake front rentals. The woman behind the desk was an outdoorsy type in her mid-thirties; warm as fresh baked pie. She arrived in Tahoe from SoCal eighteen years ago and never left. She loved skiing and hated all the road bikers that clog the single lane highway that wraps around the lake. We gleaned this information within five minutes.
After a few earlier mishaps, stutters, blank looks and what not, we were far more confident this time around. The irony being that we probably didn't have to be.
ME: We're having a family reunion here next summer, and we're looking for a place on the lake that can house 12-15, but accommodate a lot of people coming and going.
She knew. They all do. But instead of trying to pry, she just smiled, pulled out a couple keys, and said:
TIGER CUB: I've got time to show you one. It's an unbelievable property. And I'll give you keys to a few more you can check out on your own.
We followed her down the highway . It was slow going for seemingly no reason until we passed a gaggle of bikers on a charity ride. New light was shed on the Tiger Cub's random tirade about road bikers.
We pulled into a paved driveway. It was long enough to park a good 20-25 cars - something to consider when throwing a party. The property was magnificent in an understated, "this is how Tahoe should be" kind of way. The house sat a good hundred yards back and up from the lake and was on over an acre of land. It had a sprawling deck, a pool to the side, a paved volleyball/basketball court with a horseshoe pit next to it, and a stone fire pit/grill of sorts with the largest built-in Lazy Susan I've ever seen.
Before us, basically, was an ideal we were searching for and never expected to find. Sure, it was a little rustic. Sure, one of our friends would probably get drunk and nearly drown in the pool. Sure, the "aisle" was a steep and treacherous dirt path from the house to the lake. But man, the idea of a week in this house with family and friends; swimming, bbqing horse-shoeing, tanning on the two docks, and finally, at the end of it all, throwing a festivus-maximus of a wedding.
The Tiger cub could sense our excitement. With undeniable good will, but a certain underlying killer instinct apparently intrinsic in all tigers, she smiled and purred:
TIGER CUB: Don't tell the owner, but I've rented it and thrown a couple parties here myself. We had like 60 or 70 people here for my husbands 40th; it's such a great party house.
THE TIGER CUB
Just past the main drag where the ritzier realty establishments house themselves we found a place specializing in lake front rentals. The woman behind the desk was an outdoorsy type in her mid-thirties; warm as fresh baked pie. She arrived in Tahoe from SoCal eighteen years ago and never left. She loved skiing and hated all the road bikers that clog the single lane highway that wraps around the lake. We gleaned this information within five minutes.
After a few earlier mishaps, stutters, blank looks and what not, we were far more confident this time around. The irony being that we probably didn't have to be.
ME: We're having a family reunion here next summer, and we're looking for a place on the lake that can house 12-15, but accommodate a lot of people coming and going.
She knew. They all do. But instead of trying to pry, she just smiled, pulled out a couple keys, and said:
TIGER CUB: I've got time to show you one. It's an unbelievable property. And I'll give you keys to a few more you can check out on your own.
We followed her down the highway . It was slow going for seemingly no reason until we passed a gaggle of bikers on a charity ride. New light was shed on the Tiger Cub's random tirade about road bikers.
We pulled into a paved driveway. It was long enough to park a good 20-25 cars - something to consider when throwing a party. The property was magnificent in an understated, "this is how Tahoe should be" kind of way. The house sat a good hundred yards back and up from the lake and was on over an acre of land. It had a sprawling deck, a pool to the side, a paved volleyball/basketball court with a horseshoe pit next to it, and a stone fire pit/grill of sorts with the largest built-in Lazy Susan I've ever seen.
Before us, basically, was an ideal we were searching for and never expected to find. Sure, it was a little rustic. Sure, one of our friends would probably get drunk and nearly drown in the pool. Sure, the "aisle" was a steep and treacherous dirt path from the house to the lake. But man, the idea of a week in this house with family and friends; swimming, bbqing horse-shoeing, tanning on the two docks, and finally, at the end of it all, throwing a festivus-maximus of a wedding.
The Tiger cub could sense our excitement. With undeniable good will, but a certain underlying killer instinct apparently intrinsic in all tigers, she smiled and purred:
TIGER CUB: Don't tell the owner, but I've rented it and thrown a couple parties here myself. We had like 60 or 70 people here for my husbands 40th; it's such a great party house.
This was code for: I don't care. Do whatever you want here. As long as the owners don't know, I won't have to charge you an "event fee." (I will speak more on this "event fee" later)
ANDREW/MICHELLE: Yeah. Wow! It really is! This place is amazing, etc...
TIGER CUB: I've got some work to do back at the office. I'll leave you guys here to look around some more. Just lock up on your way out.
For at least another half hour we pretended we just won the lottery and splurged on a lake house. We perused our new property, relaxed on the dock, dipped our feet in the icy water and discussed what renovations were in order. What can I say, the place spoke to us.
We drove up the long driveway counting imaginary parking spaces.
MICHELLE: Maybe we could squeeze 27 or 28 cars.
ANDREW: We'll probably have to bus people in.
There were a few other minor problems with the place, but nothing insurmountable. We headed back into Tahoe City feeling just a little bit lighter about our location situation. At last, we had an option. Yes, just one, but at this point it was a long journey from none.
THE SABER-TOOTHED ASSASSIN
With no interest in finding my bank account stripped, my credit frozen or a waking to a silenced-Glock pressed to my forehead, I won't post the advertised picture of the lake house I speak of next. I have little doubt that the glitzy, high profile real estate agency could and would seek retribution through one of the various back channels they have on speed dial. Having a general idea of what the picture looked like, however, is important to understanding the beast we were dealing with.
On their website full of professionally photographed cabins, houses but mostly mansions for rent we came across a red farmhouse with a sprawling mint green lawn. To one side there was a gazebo with a hot tub, and meandering through the lawn was a rock-laden path leading to the lake and to a picturesque dock that extended far out into the blue Tahoe water. Paradise.
To rent the place for the week wasn't cheap, but if it would house family and friends and also act as our wedding ceremony and reception location it seemed like a fair deal. So, after a couple cocktails at the Bridgetender to warm up our negotiating tongues we sauntered in to the real estate agency. There were two well-dressed agents busy with clients. They hardly batted an eye at the smell of fresh meat, but we certainly didn't go unnoticed. A kind smile and a finger - one minute - from the fellow nearest to us. We pretended to seem interested in a folder full of eight-figure mansions for sale until he finished up.
A few minutes later we were comfortably perched around this slick assassins work station, a flat-panel display in front of us with various shots of the lake front farmhouse that piqued out interest.
SABER-TOOTHED ASSASSIN: It's a spectacular property. The pictures don't do it justice.
Hard to believe, but whatever. There was a soft, sweet bourbon tone in this guys delivery that made you want to drink the kool-aid.
ME: Really? Wow! Can we take a look at it?
SABER-TOOTHED ASSASSIN: Unfortunately...(pause)... there's no one that can take you there today. Hmmm...(looks at his schedule)... How's tomorrow morning work?
We nod. Yeah, that works fine. He smiles. Then, because he's a Saber-Toothed Assassin and not just some over-fed zoo cat, he lunges straight for the elephant in the room - fangs bared.
SABER-TOOTHED ASSASSIN: You two are really going to love it. It's one of the only wedding friendly private rentals on the lake. Most won't do them.
So smooth that it took a minute...did we mention anything about a wedding? Huh, I don't think we did. But cool, they're wedding friendly. That's GREAT!
I will concede that there are many interpretations of wedding friendly. Mine is by no means the platinum standard, and apparently, when dealing with death-machine of this caliber, you have to be prepared for anything.
SABER-TOOTHED ASSASSIN: The love it when guests throw weddings on their property. How couldn't they, right.
It guess it did make sense. If I owned a place like this (which I don't, so I can't really verify what I'm about to say, but...), I suppose I'd want happy couples (like Michelle and me) to have the opportunity to experience their special day in the version of paradise I owned and rented. If you've got it, share it. Right?
SABER-TOOTHED ASSASSIN: Now, there is an event fee. It's (insert the weekly summer rate for the house).
ANDREW: I thought that was the price to rent the place for the week.
SABER-TOOTHED ASSASSIN: Yes, and then the fee is to hold an event there.
He smiled like it was worth every hard-earned penny. I imagine this is the part in the script where he hopes that either I or Michelle has fallen so ass-over-teakettle for the place that all rational neurons have gone bat-shit crazy. That we'd whip out a suitcase full of green backs, sign on the dotted line and offer our jugulars without so much as a cat-fight.
Not the case. Michelle and I looked at each other and let out a mutual sigh about as aggressively passive-aggressive as you can make. The assassin didn't miss a punch.
SABER-TOOTHED ASSASSIN: I could talk to the owners if you like. They're good people. Maybe I could get the fee down to around (insert 45% less than before).
While the whole notion of renting a house for a week and then paying a large additional fee to basically have some people over seems insane, he was at least trying to sweeten up the insanity a bit. Pander to our quickly waning interest.
I can't remember exactly how we left it with him. Probably that we'd call to set up a time to look at the property the next day. We were glad to escape, and despite our near death by mauling, still somewhat intrigued by this property. We put off the much needed hot tub and beer waiting for us back at the cabin and went on a scouting mission. It was the best idea we had all day.
From the pictures, the "farmhouse" appeared to be on a decent plot of land and remote enough to have a party with no worry. In fact, when viewing the house from the road, it was nothing like that. It was practically attached to the houses on either side, and located on a narrow road with no parking whatsoever. The side of the house we were looking at was not red, and had no apparent features that you'd expect from a traditional "farmhouse". Literally it was as if we were staring at the backside of a movie set - just stilts and framing holding up the pseudo American dream on the other side. Annoying at first, but then I felt like I wanted to pat the assassin on the back (and hire his photographer for our wedding). Perfect trap, my friend, perfect trap.
Had the assassin accompanied us, I'm sure he'd have tried to hypnotize us with kaleidoscope eyes. Maybe even offer some LCD laced bubbly to seal the deal. Or, more likely, tried to sell us on something more suitable, a.k.a. more expensive, for our wedding location. Luckily we circumvented his devious ways. The answer was simple - not interested.
Not the case. Michelle and I looked at each other and let out a mutual sigh about as aggressively passive-aggressive as you can make. The assassin didn't miss a punch.
SABER-TOOTHED ASSASSIN: I could talk to the owners if you like. They're good people. Maybe I could get the fee down to around (insert 45% less than before).
While the whole notion of renting a house for a week and then paying a large additional fee to basically have some people over seems insane, he was at least trying to sweeten up the insanity a bit. Pander to our quickly waning interest.
I can't remember exactly how we left it with him. Probably that we'd call to set up a time to look at the property the next day. We were glad to escape, and despite our near death by mauling, still somewhat intrigued by this property. We put off the much needed hot tub and beer waiting for us back at the cabin and went on a scouting mission. It was the best idea we had all day.
From the pictures, the "farmhouse" appeared to be on a decent plot of land and remote enough to have a party with no worry. In fact, when viewing the house from the road, it was nothing like that. It was practically attached to the houses on either side, and located on a narrow road with no parking whatsoever. The side of the house we were looking at was not red, and had no apparent features that you'd expect from a traditional "farmhouse". Literally it was as if we were staring at the backside of a movie set - just stilts and framing holding up the pseudo American dream on the other side. Annoying at first, but then I felt like I wanted to pat the assassin on the back (and hire his photographer for our wedding). Perfect trap, my friend, perfect trap.
Had the assassin accompanied us, I'm sure he'd have tried to hypnotize us with kaleidoscope eyes. Maybe even offer some LCD laced bubbly to seal the deal. Or, more likely, tried to sell us on something more suitable, a.k.a. more expensive, for our wedding location. Luckily we circumvented his devious ways. The answer was simple - not interested.
Complications ensued when we really got into the nitty-gritty of throwing an on-the-sly wedding at a private residence. As excited as we were to tussle with the Tiger Cub, we recognized that we were still playing with tigers and there was good chance of getting scratched. There was another location that we had been considering all along, one that I didn't mention so far because it didn't require real estate agents or banquet facility coordinators.
We found a place free of any hunters. We actually had to hunt them down for information and a way to secure the deal. Sure, they want some money for the location, but a friendly amount. Sure, they have someone in charge of weddings (I can't even call her a coordinator), but she's not there to badger, push and up-sell us into anything. Really, she's just there to collect that paperwork and answer questions . And what's even better, it's an entity that we both support and frequently enjoy - California State Parks. We may come across a bear or two, but one thing I'm certain, we're safe from the Saber-Toothed Tigers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
