A Different Drummer: Pinfest Zinfest combined

Every May I ditch my wife and run off to Dixon alone for three days to play pinball machines. Not this year. She came with me this time. Why? Did she develop a sudden interest in playing pinball? Nope. I have yet to see her play a single game.
Here’s why. The Pin-A-Go-Go pinball festival had outgrown its Dixon fairgrounds location. It decided to split into two festivals this year. Pin-A-Go-Go is staying in Dixon for an October festival. The new Golden State Pinball Festival for May relocated this year from Dixon to the massive, expansive Lodi Grape Festival Grounds in the heart of beautiful Lodi.
Here they had room to set up even more pinball machines, deal with larger crowds, and they chose a most excellent date for the event — the same weekend as Lodi’s old, annual ZinFest, which picked up patrons at the Grape Festival Grounds pavilion being occupied by pinball fans.
“ZinFest?” asked Susan. “Now you’re talking. Get me a ticket. I’ll go with you this year. You play pinball, I’ll taste wine.”
We ended up scooping up another wine-loving Benicia couple to go with us, Bud and Sandy Donaldson. I started calling hotels in February. Sold out. Sold out. Sold out. Wow. Pinball fans? Nope. Winos. 3,500 of them. Rooms in Galt? Nope. Jeez.
I persisted. I did many callbacks. Finally the Hampton Inn found me a room for Friday night only. I booked it. I began looking for another hotel for Saturday night. Then Julie from the Hampton called me back. She’d found us a second night.
So, our plan was for Sue and me to drive up Friday. I’d play pinball while Sue lounged around the hotel pool. Bud and Sandy would come up Saturday for the wine festival, then they would drive off Saturday night for Tahoe to stay at our cabin and wait for Sue and me. We’d come up Sunday after pinball.
From there, all our plans went to hell. The weekend turned out great, but it did not roll out as expected.
Friday morning Sue and I woke up, our bags were packed by the front door, and we were planning to leave early to get to Lodi, eat breakfast, and then I’d catch the 1 p.m. festival opening.
The phone rang. It was our son, Adam. His wife Becky started labor pains and they were headed to John Muir to pop out a baby. Oh, my. Tough timing. Sue said, “You go ahead to Lodi. I’ll stay in Benicia and go see the kids. I’ll come over on Saturday. After all, I’m just sitting at the pool.”
So I drove off to Lodi alone again naturally and checked into our big, beautiful room alone. They only had suites available so I had to plunk down $545 for two nights. Alone I drove to the Grape Grounds and played pinball for seven hours. Then I decided to check out the downtown and grab dinner. I could learn the terrain ahead of the arrival of Sue, Sandy, and Bud. I left the pinballs behind at 8 p.m. and drove downtown, which I was happy to learn was only a few blocks away.
I got a text. There was no baby yet. False labor. Becky went on home.
Let me tell you all this, dear readers, in case you have previously shrugged off Lodi as a destination you’d never want to be stuck in thanks to John Fogerty. Lodi rocks.
For a sprawling valley community, their downtown is consolidated into a few blocks and is booming with people, places, and things. A real noun town. School Street is beautiful pressed brick and wide sidewalks. The action is liveliest around a five-block stretch of restaurants, breweries, and boutique shops. Folks stepping out for fun jammed the sidewalks. I stopped, sipped, and supped at a couple of busy venues. “Wow,” I said to a waitress. “Is this the wine crowd, or is Lodi always this crowded?”
“It’s always like this,” she said quickly and was off to wait on others.
I hung out. Talked to folks. Learned things. Had fun, then drove alone back to my big, beautiful empty suite.
That’s when the whole trip took a turn toward the weird.* I had a sore back from rearranging my garage and moving heavy boxes, so I decided to luxuriate in my big suite and take a hot bath instead of a shower.
Also I’d brought a cooler with three bottles of my favorite beer, and a 22 oz. bomber bottle of Denoginizer from Drake’s Brewery, Sue’s most favorite, and powerful, beer. I’d polished off one beer already that afternoon when I arrived. The empty bottle sat in the trash.
I decided to relax with my other two beers before I took my bath. I played Van Morrison on my tablet, reclined one one of our two white queen beds, and enjoyed my unexpected solitude.
My back felt a bit looser, as did I. I filled the bathtub with hot water. Just before climbing in, I made a bad decision. I decided to open Sue’s Denoginizer and enjoy it in the tub.
Granted, I had one wonderful hour of bliss floating in hot water, soothing my taut back muscles, Van in the airwaves, me all alone, sipping the Denog.
That was when, and likely why, I made another bad decision. My bath water was growing cool. It was time for another blast of hot water.
To be continued.