Once we were comfortably ensconced in the Mayor’s Digs, with the weekend established as time lost in relation to our mad drive home, I was able to relax and actually get comfortable for the first time since Jeremy had hurled a big ol’ handful at the fan in Miami.
The booze helped, natch, as did the long, hot soak, but really, Bob-Gunnar was unparalleled as a host. His home was large and comfortable, kind of like Bob-Gunnar, and he skimped in no area. Dinner was a lavish and wholesome feast of fresh produce, roasted meats, and red wine enjoyed on the wrap-around porch under a kaleidoscopic sky as early evening eventually stood aside to make room for night. After a dessert of dark chocolate and cheese, Bob-Gunnar gave us a tour of the refurbished mansion, starting with his posh, wood-panele
