Two Too Many

One day after Christmas, me and my folks, and Will and his folks headed over to Solvang, which is an odd little Danish town in the Santa Ynez valley. It’s a cute town, just kind of bizarre sitting in the wine country of Santa Barbara County.

We drove over San Marco’s Pass, very surreal landscape in both directions. There was Santa Barbara and the Pacific Ocean with the Channel Islands dotting the horizon, which fell behind us some 2000 feet below as we crested up and over the Pass and down the otherside of the mountains into the Santa Ynez Valley. We arrived for a tasting at Kalyra Winery, where we’re members. Mo, our favorite wasn’t there pouring, but the others were nice and we were enjoying ourselves.

Last year when Mom and Dad were here, we had gone to a few different wineries. At one of them, as we were stumbling up to it, a woman was walking on the patio swinging her purse looking up at the gorgeous blue sky. As she was staring out into the wild blue yonder, she didn’t realize that she had come to the end of the patio. She stepped off and in skirt and all went head over heels. She rolled and stood straight up on her feet as though she meant to do it.

My mother didn’t skip a beat, she turned to the rest of us and said, “We’re at the right place.” The woman, who did a header, was a great sport and that’s good, because we were all laughing at her.

Well, after hitting 3 wineries that day, we needed some food. We were at that awkward time of the day when a lot of restaurants are closed in between lunch and dinner. We decided to just wait until we returned to Santa Barbara where we would then go to Outback. Well, by the time we finally arrived, my Dad was sick to his stomach. He almost blew groceries all over the front door of Outback Steakhouse.

He decided to stay in the car, which was parked RIGHT our front of the restaurant. I brought him out some water and bread and he soon felt fine...the poor devil.

Okay, back to the recent visit to the winery. We were tasting the selections and were in jovial moods and laughing; HAHAHAHAHAHA. Things were going splendidly. It was an incredible day in wine country.

Well, all of a sudden, a young woman with enormous implants that were covered by what appeared to be small swatches of fabric that were straining to keep their occupants in, waltzed into the winery. She practically plopped them up on the bar and was ready for her tasting…as were all the straight men in the joint…and any crooked women.

Honestly, the energy in the place changed when Bubbles McCoy burst in. Everyone, even us gay boys, were mesmerized by the bobbles. They were large and in-charge and looked as though if given the chance, they would wreak havoc upon the place.

Things started moving in slow motion and all topics evolved…or dissolved, into talk about her boobs. You could tell, everyone was talking about her tits and the exposition of them. She ruled the room and she knew it. Or rather “they” ruled the room.

My Dad and Will’s Dad were not only mesmerized, but they suddenly appeared 20 years younger. Their eyes appeared larger and they seemed to be giggling. In fact, we ALL were.

We were now tasting the Gewürztraminer; basically a sweet white wine. The wine was kicking in and the visual of Bubbles’ bobbles were intoxicating everyone with a different type of high, but make no mistake, they WERE intoxicating.

We were laughing and drinking and having a fantastic time. Bubbles, her mates and her friends (her real friends, not her…you know, friends) seemed to be having a great time as well. Her boyfriend seemed to be under some type of trance that most likely left him rather helpless. But he didn’t seem to be complaining. So, everyone was having fun.

Then…

Then…

Something awful happened.

She left.

They left.

Bubbles McCoy took her bobbles and her friends and left the building.

It was rather something. The energy was sucked from the room and what seemed so bright and cheery suddenly went to pot. It literally was like a balloon having much of the air let out of it. It was like Samson getting his hair chopped, taking all of his strength.

Well, this is when it happened. The life drained out of my Father. He suddenly became pale and weak. He expressed that he needed some air. Honestly. As I was moving around to his other side to help him out to the porch to sit down and get some air, he had hunched over the bar. I could tell that he was passing out. I got behind him and grabbed him while Will’s Dad grabbed his legs. We lowered him to the floor and I instructed Will’s Dad to raise his legs up to get blood back to his head.

When we lowered him to the floor and I cradled his head, his eyes were open appearing lifeless and for a fleeting moment I had a surge of panic run through me. I checked his pulse and it was fine, so I started calling his name. He came to and was shocked to find himself on the floor. A bar tender looked around the corner and nonchalantly asked, “Should I call 911?” (That’s for Emergency here in the States)

I said, “No, thanks. He’ll be fine. May we have a wet wash cloth though?”

So, there Dad was; lying on the floor of the winery on the far side of the bar, his head in my hands and a wet dirty bar rag on his head. Dignity, I tell you.

I told him that it was all Bubbles’ bobbles’ fault. It happened when she took the girls and left. I told my Dad that she had induced the blood from his head to flow straight to his Gewürztraminer causing him to pass out. I also told him that we were lucky that he didn’t blow a big Farfignugan and stink up the whole joint. Everyone in the place was already in mourning that the gigantic energy orbs were gone, we didn’t need a big cloud of methane added to the grim scene.

So, we laughed some more and got Dad up. We walked out to the porch where he sat down in the fresh air and felt better. We headed onto Solvang and walked around a bit before getting some food and driving home.

Dad has done this a couple of times before. It’s called a Vasovagal syncope. You may have experienced it yourself before. But you’ve most likely seen it demonstrated when someone in a wedding party passes out at the altar, or a member of a choir goes down, or a soldier standing in formation out in the heat too long during a ceremony bites it.

They had informed us during boot camp to never stand in formation with our legs locked. That we should slightly bend at the knees and maybe even slightly rock back and forth to keep our blood pressure steady.

So, if you find that you’re at a party, or wherever and you begin just not feeling that great – slightly light headed, bend your knees, maybe rock back and forth a little bit on the balls of your feet. Obviously, if you can, sit down. It’s just something to keep in mind.

And if you should encounter Bubbles McCoy and her bobbles, enjoy her presence…or her presents, but beware – she leaves men passing out in her wake. And I’d be ready if I were you. Forewarned is forearmed.

And can you imagine what would've happened had we called 911 and rushed him to the hospital where Bubbles' sister was waiting?


"Mr. Charnas, HI! I'm your nurse, BaBAMbi McCoy. I heard that you've already met my sister, Bubbles."


"How are you ffeeelllliiingggg??? With your hands, I suppose...tee hee hee."


"I just need to take your temperature, with my TONGUE!"

Yeah...see? Things could always be worse. The McCoy twins would've done him in for sure, all six of them.