Trump International Hotel Creates A Monster and Other Tales of Woe; Great Food at the Hawksworth and the Vancouver Symphony

I came to the following conclusion as I awoke on the 19th floor of the Trump International Hotel. They have created a Monster and that monster is me. I am spoiled absolutely rotten and it has left me practically and utterly dysfunctional. This is an example. I have been sleeping elsewhere for the past five or six nights. I realized when I awoke from the most magnificent of sleeps that the prior venue was not the Trump. Here on the 19th floor it is totally quiet although it is in the middle of downtown Vancouver. The drapes block out the light, the temperature is deliciously cold, the sheets have a million thread count, the pillows divine. Triple C. in a prior email, stated that I sleep on a $5000 bed – it feels like it and why would he lie about a thing like that? So this is one small example and here comes another one. 
I returned from a sojourn in Edmonton. I was welcomed back like royalty. There was a red carpet, there were flowers, there was champagne. I am including a picture because you just might not believe me. I do have a reputation for truth and veracity but some of you are new readers. I have one small complaint – where were the trumpets and the fanfare? Ah well! Nothing is perfect even the Trump International Hotel. 
I did suspect that something was afoot because Triple C. kept emailing me asking me for my ETA at the hotel. Once when I did not reply immediately he wrote: “Hello?? Did you fall off your bar stool again?? CCC” But let the record reflect that I have never fallen off a bar stool, that I remember anyway. So things did seem a bit auspicious but in my prior life things have not perfect and I feared that the whole Idea was to raise my hopes and then dash them. I would think something grand would be awaiting me and they would say: “Oh yawn, you are here again.” 
But apparently my life is different now because there it all was – the red carpet, the flowers, the champagne, the no trumpets. An escort to my room with all of the treasures. You do have the picture to prove it – if you do not believe me. 
But then life continued to be wonderful because I was meeting Ty for dinner before symphony. We ate at the Hawksworth on West Georgia. Ty, the Wine Guy, chose the wine after consultation with their knowledgable sommelier. I quite typically did not have vegetables but instead fois gras. I consume it whenever possible because it was banned in California and I am more than a little rebellious. This was an amazing version, lightly seared, probably the best of my entire life. Ty had the sablefish and something else. 
Then we left to go to the symphony. New to Vancouver I had never been to the Orpheum before, such a magnificent building. It was Bramwell Tovey’s farewell. It was so fine and so ambitious. There was a new work composed by Bramwell Tovey in celebration of Canada’s 150. it was so moving, so impressive. I have got to, got to, have it. Marion Newman performed the work – I must follow her forever. Then a stirring violin concerto by Korngold. As Ty said of Baiba Stride: “She made her instrument sing.” Then the season finale was Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 Titan.

Wow, there was a reason it is called Titan! What a way to end a magnificent career with the Vancouver Symphony, Bramwell Tovey. 
So then Ty walked me back home and I had a great chat with Triple S. as she was still at work at the Trump Tower. I close with a quote from the book she gave me: “People who keep stiff upper lips find that it’s damn hard to smile. Judith Guest said it, I repeat it.  
So two pictures. One of the royal treatment and the other of the Orpheum ceiling. 

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