I coulda gone to the Golden Arches

Last Saturday evening, courtesy of my friend the high school valedictorian¹ who gives generously enough to the alumni association to get tickets to this soirée (and whose wife doesn't dig going to that kind of thing), I dined at the Park City Club.  The annual event, named for the late former CEO (and his wife) of a large media company, honors a notable alumnus.  None from my class has ever received this award, nor is likely to.

Seated 17 stories above the tollway, less than a mile from that other Donald's mansion, and less than two miles from the former President's home, it was a far sight better than baloney sammiches and beer.

View looking southwest - my seat was to the left of the corner wall sconces, with the napkin draped over the chairback.

In contrast to my normal life, this was one of those events where suits and ties are de riguer for menfolk.  It was almost scandalous that one or two attendees did not wear neckties.  I elected to wear a charcoal suit with a contrasting herringbone vest, and crisply patterned geometric tie, giving the suggestion of formalwear, but not so much as wearing a tuxedo.

View toward the podium.

Hey...rabbit food!  Actually, it was quite good.

Since they had just announced last call, I snagged a reserve gin & tonic (on cocktail napkin).

As you might have surmised if you've read this blog much, I'm not a heavy drinker. But once a year, at this occasion, I tend to have three mixed drinks, plus wine with dinner.  Inasmuch as I avail myself to the hors d'oeuvres every time the waiter comes around during cocktail hour, followed by a full meal with dessert, and don't have to drive for about 1-1/2 hours, it's all good.

The tenderloin filet with fresh grated horseradish was melt-in-your-mouth delicious.  The carrot souffle was sort of a miss.

OK, flashback to reality - where'd I leave my can of beanie weenies and YooHoo?

¹  The valedictorian weren't really no smarter than me, much.  His 1430 SAT was a measly 10 points higher than mine, with a grossly eccentric Math/Verbal spread of 130 points - vs my more balanced differential of only 80 points.  I think they just chose him on account of instead of engaging serious pursuits like recording most excellent high SNR Maxell UDXLII cassettes, expertly segued, of the best of Fleetwood Mac, Eagles, Chicago, Linda Ronstadt, Heart, and James Taylor, and working on an early prototype of Mr. Donald's Opus Bloggus, he chose to frivolously fritter his time with things like, um, studying, and later getting a master's degree and stuff.  Go figure.