A friend had a birthday party this week so I stopped by, gave him a hug, said happy birthday, shook hands with others, and then took these pictures on the way out. Seven tries until I timed it right with the blinking lights.
The only noteworthy moment (at minute 17) was when someone I don't know, but have seen at parties over the years turned to me and said, "I know that scarf" [referring to the scarf I've been wearing only lately] and then went back to the conversation they were listening to beforehand.
It's true. On Sunday February 21st, 2010 I was a victim of a most horrendous crime while on a quick two hour visit to Disney's California Adventures theme park with my kids.
My dear children, untouched by crime children had just entered the queue for Grizzly Rapids so like any good dad who doesn't think walking around on a cold, possibly raining day soaked from this water ride, I stood at the look-out point near what is the San Francisco bathrooms area to wave them off. I smiled towards their raft with the thought that my kids were going to get soaked in their already sick state (did I mentioned they were a tad sick?) on the last ride before dropping them off the Ex's house.*
So this good Dad notices the churro cart nearby and decides that a warm churro would be a perfect snack for some damp kids and myself. I don't know why these fried dough sticks covered in cinnamon-sugar powder are so hella good, but there's always a line to buy them and I'm always lined up behind the other addicts to recieve my dose.
Now in line and one of the customers in front of me turns and it's Callista Flockheart (aka Ally McBeal and also that current show Brothers and Sisters on ABC ). She quietly speaks to her friend and I, like any good Angelino, ignores the fact that she is Ally McBeal aka Mrs. Harrison Ford, with the latter distinction being more notable. To answer your immediate question, dear unknown reader: Yes, she is that thin in person but not in a weird I use meth way too much sort of way. Standing about 5'6" with feet the size of small potatoes, she is simply an abnormally tall, small person.
After a few minutes she seems comfortable enough to start talking at a normal volume. She doesn't say his name (Han F'ing Solo or Indiana F'ing Jones) but starts with He thinks..something about something or some situation. Unremarkable words just like you or me and I gleam nothing interesting unlike that one time with Alice Cooper.
Ally McHarrison FlockFord orders her on singular churro and pays in cash. $3.50. She's polite, says thank you and bounces off with her treat down towards the main gate. I walk up and polietly ask for three churros. The castmember has that oh crap look,"Three?" she cautiously asks. "Yes, three please." She reaches down below the cinnamon tray and starts loading up that fryer as if she understood my request in only multiples of tens. The guy behind me sighs. I smile patiently for two minutes. I'm not Ally McBeal - I must wait. The guy behind sighs in agreement, apparently not only annoyed with me but blessed with the ability to read my inner thoughts. I'm not Ally McBeal..."The hell you're not!" Great, now he's in my head mocking me. He hates me. I've be reduced to that dancing baby to him.
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I am sad, diminished; I've been robbed of a churro that was rightfully mine.
Damn you Ally McChurro-snatching flockford!
* I'm kidding. I gave my daughter my water proof jacket so she wouldn't get too wet - my son had his on already.
** No, I did not have an ending for this - the churros were good though.
***Also proof that she was there: http://www.flickr.com/photos/disneylandiphone/4379083325/ **** Yes, I get that I was ordering three and would had to wait.
I love nothing more than watching you roll across the carpet to answer your phone.
I had a purpose to the extent that I wanted to do one thing only.
I drove for hours, heading Northwest on the 101. Woodland Hills, Camarillo, maybe Santa Barbara? I haven't been out this direction since I was a child and my dad insisted we took the coastal drive at least once on our many trips to Los Angeles. We drove down every summer and I remember doing this route only a couple times - once as we came up to a freeway junction and my dad asked us "So should we go left or straight up the 5?" We yelled left and headed up the 101 based on three kids thinking nothing of adding a few hours to our already long drive.
My secondary destination this day, my back up, is only a memory. I have only a vague idea where or what it is but I'll try to describe it here: A large canyon, a small narrow road, a steep drop down the edge of these cliffs. Somewhere on the way down (or maybe at the top) was a Bob's Big Boy or some random restaurant off to the right side before the canyon opened up. I remember the food, the trees, the parking lot one had to turn across downhill traffic to get into and thinking even at age 5, 6 or 7 that seemed like a dangerous place for a restaurant. I had a chocolate shake and picked the slices of pickles off my hamburger. They were dill.
The car kept driving North until the traffic stopped just before Ventura, probably due to the 3 day holiday weekend. It was 1 pm so I ate lunch. I took a picture of an empty lot, remarkable because I saw a hedgehog just staring back at me from the middle of the field. At first I thought he was a rock, so I stared and squinted then used the digital zoom on my camera to finally see that it was indeed alive. Also he moved so that was also a bit of a give away.
Traffic wasn't moving and I could smell the salt in the air from where I was. I headed back South, then West until the land on the right side of the road drifted off and was replaced by marsh, then ocean. The second destination would have to wait another day and a little google map research.
Here was Adventure
Here was Intrigue
Here was a Tidal Wave!! (only in miniature)
Here was the reason why I drove all this way in the first place:
To stand in the ocean waves. And I did.
Even now when I recite these words in my mind, I still pump my fist into the air.
(It was late November when I had a chance to write a guest post for Krista's blog; a post about what inspires us. There were a few drafts that came and went but it wasn't until mid December that I knew exactly what I wanted to say. What you see here is a slightly modified version that was kindly posted at Krista's blog in January. Today is a good day to share it here.)
I spent the last rainy Saturday at the LA Zoo with my soon to be 8 year old son.
He picked out a red shirt to match mine while I insisted on a scarf, wrapping it around his neck just like the way mine twisted. The scarves were not to create LA fashion statements as often the case here but for the real need of keeping our LA not use this cold weather necks warm. Our hands rested in pockets while we talked to each other, picking up identical black umbrellas set by the door on our way out.
The place was empty with the rain staying somewhere between being brushed by cotton balls or brushed by wet cat fur around bare legs. If you haven't been there before the LA Zoo is laid out between a wide valley of sorts in Griffith Park with exhibits climb up the hill to nearly the top where the chimps and giraffes are placed; You have to go to the top for the good stuff - It's true in life, it’s true at the LA Zoo.
We had our choice of paths that day.
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As we left the upper exhibits, making our way down to the exit the rain started dumping, no, really dumping down on us. Storm drain depressions became buried under small ponds. The uphill nature of the zoo created streams and rivers and runs if you come from a place that calls them runs over the paved walkways. Most were easily jumped over by my son but some were so wide that even my jumps landed me still a foot inside the flowing water.
My son yelled, "We're not going to make it out alive!!!" in the same tone he once yelled "We are driving straight into the face of danger!!!" the day he spotted a forest fire smoke plume 30 miles away as we drove to the mall.
I instinctively played along. "I'll save you Jake! Let me throw you across the river!" as I swung him over the a two foot wide stream. This was repeated over and over again the whole way down.
We eventually made to the car in double the normal time and more soaked then we needed to be. If you just happen upon us at that moment looking like the result of performing handstands in a canoe, I would have smiled and simply said, “We were inspired...”
Gathered my laundry bag I had set aside the night before to beat an imagined weekend rush at the washing machines though the complex has six machines and it was Sunday morning. 6:15.
As the clothes washed, then dried, I placed myself in the shower as one does in the morning hours. Eventually I went downstairs to retrieve my clothes, clean the lint out of the catch and exchanged a clean shirt with a warm one. 8:35 I'm out the door.
Ate my breakfast at the outside tables of Millie's with a book, a glass of water, a glass of orange juice and an order of the Devils' Mess. The book of essays got very funny and I noticed the little huff of approval from my throat. A worthy "ha" to the amazing mixture of eggs, cheese, tomatoes, onions, sour cream and guacamole that sat on the plate in front of me. The sun reached my legs under the table as I watched the cars go by, growing in numbers as more customers arrived. I swallowed this all down with the glass of orange juice.
If the last part of the morning was a postcard, the caption would read in unnecessary capitalization: "I Wish You Were Here!!" and that sentiment is absolutely true; I did wish you were here.
I ran three miles this evening, only walked for a few minutes, my heart pounding in a good way. The more I try the easier it is to maintain this pace. I like this pace. At Catalina and Franklin I paused long enough for a raccoon to pass from the street then up a driveway, but instead of rushing into the darkness he stopped and looked at me.
"Hi Mr Raccoon," I said.
"Well hello Robert Dean." This truly didn't seem odd at the time.
He stood up on his hind legs eyeballing me as I stood there breathing hard. A smile appeared before he continued, "Don't stop running. Never stop."
"I won't Mr Raccoon. Not this time. Not this time."
Home is a moving target but my heart knows its place.
