14 Dec A Taste Of Godfather Part Deux

“Wanna come to a timeshare in Lake Tahoe?”

Barring renal failure, a tryst with an opera singer or a one off rave headlined by Darude at the Palace of the Arts, there is only one way to answer that question. Packing light (in volume and fabric thickness) ensures your legs’ll look mint cavorting amidst the Nevadian snowfall but that you’ll squeal like a spotted pig as you quiver in your equally impracticable boots. The hot tub provided enveloping respite at the cost of any logistical necessities (timely meals, fresh clothes etc), but the practicalities of modern day meanderings are supposed to be forgotten whilst one resides in a cabin in the woods.  The reclusion inspires a romantic forgetfulness of the frantic nature modernity insists. Margaritas help too.