Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Rambi who wrote (62997)	8/2/2002 11:58:39 PM
From: Jacques Chitte	Respond to of 71178

"look up Haitian recipes" There's that lovely one that involves meat on skewers. And that almost reminds me of something ... or someone. I think. So ... just who was Barbara Cohen?

To: Rambi who wrote (62997)	8/10/2002 12:38:57 PM
From: Michael Sphar	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 71178

Perhaps he will make a career of this blackness? I could see your #2 son in ten years, a world acclaimed voodoo master, living in his swanky Malibu beachfront, the walls all painted black of course and the exterior, a deep sombrely regal purple to compliment. Black slacks suitably wrinkled and a black tie dyed teeshirt with clever little voodoo sayings printed in a fine white silkscreen. Of course there will be two or more rather good looking druid type ladies hanging about, whose relationships to Ammo you are never really certain about... Today, this morning, I saw my only child off to her first day of work! It was a fine summer-at-the-lake sort of morning. The sun creeping up the sky, jays cawing, and in the distance you could hear someone shouting "Hit it!" and the rush of a motorboat in response. She will be working these next two weekends then in late August shift to full time when she completes her studies. Two weeks, fingers crossed. It was a monumental moment. There I was video camera in hand, documenting this precious moment. Out the cabin door, up the steps, into the car, and off to her soon to be daily "commute" along the shores of Lake Tahoe. I was full of fatherly advice about dress and bearing and office politics, grindstone maintenance and useful things like, "buy a $3 wind up alarm clock, you know how unreliable the power is here in the winter months..." and "don't forget your Social Security card". A tear came to my eye as she drove off. She's now 23. 21 winters ago I first placed her on skis between my legs and pushed off from the top of chair 6 at Dodge Ridge, ex-wife nervously at our side. I'm sure this was a significant contributing factor to our later divorce. In those early years, I'd scoop her up at the end of the run with one hand, fumbling with the ski poles and grabbing onto the chair with the other, for the ride back up. She had more skier miles by the time she was 5 and able to ski on her own than most people get in a 10 year period. Once on the chair, with kid and poles secured, I'd pull a baby bottle out of my vest to keep her quiet for the ride up. She never declined. I bought her first powder suit, a cute little pink number before she was three. I had her skiing all over Squaw Valley by the time she was 8. Then the snowboarder craze started and she crossed over but that is another story not meant for polite audiences such as this. Later, I'll drive over to Squaw to discretely finish the video documenting of this historic event.