All tomorrow's parties

Train wreck. That was what Jerry Brown certainly felt like when he ran out the door, punching numbers into his cellphone.

He showed up recently at a fancy wine tasting that was being held (strangely) at a warehouse on a desolate block in West Oakland. He was in the politician mode: shaking hands, smiling a lot, patting backs.

He caught me whispering feverishly to Elizabeth and then the two of us staring in his direction. Wine glass in hand, he came strutting over to us. He was wearing some kind of hunting vest and had a big grin on his face.

Me: It's great to see you! (Laughing.) We actually use to know each other! (Laughing.)You've done my dishes!

There was a dumbfounded, wide-eyed and scared look from the Oakland mayor.

Me: I lived in The Firehouse!

Former Governor: Oh. Oh, of course. Right. Great. Great to see you again. (Looking around nervously.) Great to see you again. Okay! Well then...goodbye!

And then the mad dash, no goodbyes to the rest of the crowd, rushing towards the door, dialing the cell.

The conversation probably went something like: What do I do about the beautiful brunette I just met and her (!@#!?) blonde friend who says she use to live in my house and that I did her dishes?

Elizabeth and I laughed and the other wine-tasters looked at us strangely. Sometimes in my enthusiasm I don't always phrase things quite the right way, even if they are true.