Wine Teeth

As I implied in The Implication, Mrs. Nitmos and I escaped to the Great White Moderately Brown-Beige North for a little cherished “time away from the kids” this past weekend. How’d it go? You need ask, Mr. Rhetorical? Fantastic! Of course, we could have found ourselves buried up to our necks with red ants biting our eye lids under a blazing hot sun and still found the Down Time refreshing.

We wined. We dined. We…whatever rhymes, add it here.

I drank a lot of wine on Friday. I ended up with wine teeth. You know those crystal meth addicts who lost their front teeth and the few they have left are all brown and black? Have a few buckets of red wine and then smile. You look like a crackhead. Welcome to Wine Teeth! The red wine stain makes it look like your teeth are either (1) missing and/or (2) horribly unclean. We dined at a nice little hamlet called TraVino’s Wine and Grille near Traverse City, MI. When you go – and you’ll find yourself there eventually – I recommend. I had entirely too much of a locally grown Black Star Farms concoction. I think I had Wine Teeth before even leaving.

But then we headed downtown “TC” later Friday for more after dinner drinks at the Red Ginger. If you like sushi, fishy foods, and – oh, yeah - wine, this would be another spot for you. I sampled an Argentinean brand – Armador, I think - and was unimpressed. Should have went local. Red Ginger, however? I recommend.

Mrs. Nitmos was on her best behavior so the food and drink ran plentiful and the whirlpool ran warm and full. No worries. The implication was well received...things didn't turn nasty. We make a trip just about every February around this time to give a big F.U. to Old Man Winter and prepare ourselves for the coming spring. At Red Ginger, we briefly discussed race plans for the coming year. I decided that, come March 1st, the winter maintenance mode officially ends and it will be time to kick things into high gear. I’ve been sleep running for two months now and it has grown tiresome.

Saturday morning, I brushed twice in an attempt to return my Wine Teeth back to white, or yellowish-white, let’s be honest here. We got to experience what it is like to be a hobo standing outside of a soup kitchen in the freezing cold. There was a tent set up for a “winter festival” in the middle of a parking lot. A soup tasting competition was within. But they wouldn’t let us in until noon sharp and we got there at 11:50. Ever have to wait in the freezing cold for…SOUP?!? Damn, I don’t think I could have survived the Depression. Hobos, I don’t know how you do it you filthy rascals!!

The soup was good but so not worth the cold. Again, how do the bums do it? Soup, after all that time in the cold? Can a hobo get a steak up in here??

The rest of Saturday was spent much the same as Friday…aimless wandering punctuated with drinks…except this time it was locally crafted brew in place of the wine. There is no such thing as beer teeth. Beer farts? Well, that’s another story…

Mrs. Nitmos and I retrieved the spoiled kids and drove home Sunday afternoon feeling pleasantly drained and simultaneously revitalized…until later that evening when we sent the kids to bed early because they were driving us INSANE. And then I drank more wine. But, this time, it wasn’t from a glass and it wasn’t a sip. glug glug glug

March 1st, come hell or snow shower, hard training begins again. The time for kicking back and relaxed running and wining has ended. Maybe I’ll come up with a clever, wholly original and inspirational slogan…something like “Spring of Speed” maybe.

Someone queue the Rocky theme. Someone’s Gonna Fly Now In Another Week. Anyone want my old sweatpants and half-consumed bag of Cheetos?

Happy trails.