I asked Loni if she knew any other f-words that could help complete the brilliant fish and furniture train of thought. A blank stare. Then a stream of sailor-like expletives. My hockey line-mates would be proud.
Over at Steve and Eve's tower we enjoyed a tranquil evening. The fresh yellowtail was nicely smoked, and sinfully delicious. As was the wine - a red L.A. Cello. We sat as darkness enshrouded the quiet neighborhood here in Nopolo.
But the most curious person I had met so far was the woman sitting next to me on the flight from LAX. I'll be the first to admit that her pixie-like attire kind of threw me for a loop. Was she from Berkeley?