The Hill and The Tripod

I was hoping Tony and I would find the time to split a handle of vodka and create a handwritten list of all our favorite Tripod moments.  Sadly, we're borderline adults and haven't had the time.  There's always the New Year...

Until then, here's my best, somewhat sober, recollection of the birth of the tripod.

It was football season, that I know for sure.  A particularly beautiful day in September.  The exact weekend, the games, the wins, and entirely what was drank that morning, I cannot recall.  I'm sure the Jets and the Seahawks were involved.  I'm positive spiked coffee's, bloody mary's, mimosas, breakfast chicken wings, and no water were consumed.

This is a throwback to our Melrose Place days.  I seem to remember getting a ride down the hill to everyone's favorite early morning bar, Prince 'o' Whales.  The lack of a car and mass consumptions of alcohol will all come full circle later.

It was just the three of us. Jamie, Tony, and myself.  It was a Sunday morning and all throughout Playa, not a sole was aware of the self-destruction we had committed to engaging in.  Money was of no concern, as I seem to recall three near $100+ bartabs before Noon had struck.  As the alcohol built a cuddle puddle in our stomachs and our livers, we realized that it was time to head back up The Hill.  Not to wash up and rest off the intoxication to ensure a hangover free Monday, but to drink more,  and cheaply.

In order to get up said Hill, we'd have to work together, using each other for support and balance.  Three sheets to the wind and trying to stand, it was clear only a tripod formation could save us.  The Tripod carries a much more imaginative and weighted meaning now, but at that moment, the Tripod was real and necessary.

Being the youngest and least familiar with Playa, I was allowed to navigate the group back home via my secret route.  I pitched the route as a means to avoid the Hill.  In my less formative years I've come to realized this was quite possibly the steepest, longest, and most difficult route we could have possibly taken.  It's taken me sometime to admit that but I'm here to tell you now, that was a terrible route to take.  However, I have zero regrets of this misguided trip.  It was a lovely and romantic day in Playa.  We passed this precious bikers, taking in a nautical view, near the top of that very long hill.

Eventually, though only slightly less intoxicated, we arrived back at 8644 where I can only assume we napped, we cuddled, and we drank.  As the Tripod is want to do.  The Tripod consists of two friends that I could not have successfully made a home in Playa and Los Angeles without.  I'm incredibly grateful and teary eyed just thinking about how much I love Jamie and Tony and our bond.

Writers note: Jamie and Tony, when you read this, please, add notes, comment, and amend everything I've forgotten.  

Written by: CC 

Posted: CC - Tuesday - December 24, 2013 - Sub for Monday, December 23 - Day 22 of 30