When I started writing this post, it was going to detail our vacation and the travails of traveling with at 2-year-old who doesn't know better and a 72-year-old who just doesn't care.
But the more I wrote, the more it rambled and the longer it got. And really, I could go into every detail of dealing with Gina's dad on the trip and it would've never gotten to the point.
The point being that while his mother, who turned 100 on our trip, is a woman who is old, Gina's dad is a guano-crazy Old Man.
The problem is, in reality, that he isn't really crazy. He just likes playing with people.
And it's gotten him trouble now. And by extension, us too.
His doctor has diagnosed him with dementia caused by Alzheimer's. And the doctor thinks Gina's dad belongs in a home - to the point that he's searched and found one that will take him and his insurance.
Dementia, we buy. He has massive anxieties that cause him to act irrationally. He has delusions that he's still a virile young man who should be desired (or, at the very least, *ahem* serviced).
But the Alzheimer's? We're not so sure. He is still pretty sharp, especially when it comes to the way he lays down the guilt, weasels the things he wants or doles out the verbal punishment for anyone who dares cross him.
The doctor based his opinion on a couple of encounters with Gina's dad at appointments, and by the fact that he won't take care of himself.
The first encounter came one day when Gina's dad rode his four-wheel scooter to the appointment, when his county-paid-for caregiver was supposed to bring him. When they asked where the caregiver was, and how he got there, he lied rather than face the scorn.
The second came when Gina's sister came with him to another appointment. Being sort of polite, he reintroduced Gina's sister to the doctor by saying, you remember my daughter? Gina's sister heard the doctor's response under his breath "He doesn't remember he's introduced her."
And not taking care of himself? That's nothing new. He's never taken care of himself. He's always had someone around who could do it. Gina's mom endured years of verbal and physical abuse and stayed to help take care of him until her dying days. His gratitude: One visit to the hospital in her final two weeks.
Since her death, he's had his share of people who have pitched in to help, from family to friends to government agencies. It finally got to the point that he got the caretakers who were to help cook and clean and take care of him for the past year-plus. Well, until just before we left.
Just before we left, his latest caretaker quit. Of Mexican descent, she couldn't take the racist she was caring for (oh, he hates the Mexicans - never mind his granddaughter is half-Mexican). Or the sexual harassment he was doling out. I told you he still believed himself to be a virile stud - he has porn scattered around his bedroom.
But most recently, he's had Gina's sister, who moved in to help her stem the financial tide in her life. He's leaned on her, using her so much, it's not fair to her, her husband or their 8-month-old daughter. So, they're getting ready to move out, and he's upset.
He's on a bevy of medications, and he knows what he's supposed to take and when. He handled all of them while on the trip to Costa Rica. But because he never took care of himself after having bypass surgery to clear clots in his legs, he's back to the point he was before the surgery - hurting and having troubles walking (he moved like a glacier when he did walk). I would bet he's in danger of losing his feet at some point as well.
Which leaves us in a quagmire. What do we do? The way I see it, there are four options.
1) We take the doctor's advice and we put him in the home.
There are days when I've had enough and I'm ready just to do it. But in our hearts, we know it's not right. He's still sharp enough to get himself around. At one point, the doctor had enough and signed him into the psych ward of the hospital on a three-day mandatory hold. That scared him some, because the people in there were actually insane.
But it didn't scare him enough that he started following the doctor's advice, which leaves the doctor positive he can't be trusted (he can't) to take care of himself and needs to be in this Alzheimer's specialty home. We worry, though, that being trapped there will lead to his death sooner rather than later.
2) We get him into a private senior living home that will give him freedom, but also have staff around in case.
This option is probably the right one ... but how? Most of those won't take his state or federal insurance (that is if the state hasn't already cut it).
And lets look at the finances of his kids. Well, there's Gina and I, two journalists who had their pay cut and have a 2-year-old. His other daughter, who has the young baby and a stepdaughter to take care of every other weekend, and who's husband has been looking for work. And there's his son, the bouncer at the strip club, who's trying to go to culinary school and better his life.
Not a lot of extra money floating around. Especially when in that environment, we think he'd thrive and live a lot longer.
3) We ship him off to Costa Rica.
Most of his family is still there, and have told us not to worry, they would look after him. He likely would thrive having all the family around him. Being back there would probably be good for him, as well, because it wouldn't cost him much to live.
But, if he went, he'd probably lose all the Social Security he gets now (admittedly, it's not that much, but it's enough he'd freak out about it) and any of the other government help he gets.
And then there's his kids. It's not like any of us can drop everything at a moment's notice and get to Costa Rica (see: finances) if something were to go wrong. Though, if we're to believe him, when he does die, there's a huge inheritance waiting in Costa Rica. We just have to go get it.
4) The last option is just to leave things the way they are.
Gina's sister is moving out, in part, to help him. If she's there when the county housing inspectors come, he'll lose some of his housing help. And lord knows, in this state, they'll be looking at everything to make cuts.
But once she's gone, she won't be there at his beck and call. We're out in Colton (with Gina working another hour out in Palm Springs). And Gina's brother can't/won't pitch in because of a lot of issues between the two.
So, this is our problem. Piling on top of all our other problems. We run through each of these scenarios and their pros and cons and never come to a viable conclusion (because winning the lottery isn't one - and lord knows Gina's dad tried to gamble his way to prosperity many times).
What to do? *Shrug* Got me. I'm looking for suggestions. Got any?
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Summer Puckin'
So, there has been one consistent good thing about being off Tuesdays this summer.
Kings hockey.
Prime Ticket, in need of filler programming, spends Tuesday night showing classic hockey (yes, including the Ducks), and it's a nice respite from the rest of the stuff on television.
This past Tuesday's Kings game was Game 6 from the 1990 playoffs, when the Kings knocked off the Calgary Flames in double overtime. Mike Krushelnyski's goal from his backside is still as classic now as it was then.
But watching, there were quite a few things that stood out.
First off, this was a pre-Ducks world. Which means that many of my friends who are now Ducks fans probably didn't watch that game. And probably didn't watch any hockey. It's a good thing Gretzky and the Kings were good enough to make enough runs deep into the playoffs proving hockey was viable in Southern California.
Second, you realize how much the game has changed. There were muggings on the ice that weren't called by the one referee. Calgary gave the Kings 10 power plays in the game, and that's not counting all the interference penalties that would be called today.
Seriously, the game was skating north-south, with defensemen carrying the puck into the zone, with very little dump and chase. Filled with players interfering every time the puck came within five yards of them. Oh, and even worse, was the times when players were actually dragged down with no penalty called.
And Gary Roberts of the Flames absolutely lost his mind at the end of regulation. He didn't like getting called for a penalty, and he pushed over another King as he argued. And he argued. And argued all the way to the penalty box. In today's game, he probably would have picked up another two minutes and probably a 10 minute misconduct.
Oh, and in today's game, the Kings probably would have lost the game. The apparent Calgary goal in the first overtime might have been upheld with the use of video replay, especially with all the extra camera angles that are available these days. The angles they had available on the Prime Ticket broadcast in 1990 could not conclusively make the call, but I bet they could've today.
That game, by the way, I remember watching live. I was still living at my parents house (I was less than a year out of high school at that point), sitting in the same space on the couch I always did when I watched Kings games (superstitious much?). It was the Saturday before Easter, and the game ended just after midnight on Easter Sunday. And I was celebrating the win while trying not to be too loud as to wake up the rest of the family.
Watching the games has been a nice holdover to the real hockey season. Especially since I can watch the games without the stress of wondering if they're going to play well enough to win (because as Bob Miller said during the studio parts of the broadcasts, they're not going to show a Kings' loss during Kings Classics).
And just think, training camp is a little more than a month away.
Kings hockey.
Prime Ticket, in need of filler programming, spends Tuesday night showing classic hockey (yes, including the Ducks), and it's a nice respite from the rest of the stuff on television.
This past Tuesday's Kings game was Game 6 from the 1990 playoffs, when the Kings knocked off the Calgary Flames in double overtime. Mike Krushelnyski's goal from his backside is still as classic now as it was then.
But watching, there were quite a few things that stood out.
First off, this was a pre-Ducks world. Which means that many of my friends who are now Ducks fans probably didn't watch that game. And probably didn't watch any hockey. It's a good thing Gretzky and the Kings were good enough to make enough runs deep into the playoffs proving hockey was viable in Southern California.
Second, you realize how much the game has changed. There were muggings on the ice that weren't called by the one referee. Calgary gave the Kings 10 power plays in the game, and that's not counting all the interference penalties that would be called today.
Seriously, the game was skating north-south, with defensemen carrying the puck into the zone, with very little dump and chase. Filled with players interfering every time the puck came within five yards of them. Oh, and even worse, was the times when players were actually dragged down with no penalty called.
And Gary Roberts of the Flames absolutely lost his mind at the end of regulation. He didn't like getting called for a penalty, and he pushed over another King as he argued. And he argued. And argued all the way to the penalty box. In today's game, he probably would have picked up another two minutes and probably a 10 minute misconduct.
Oh, and in today's game, the Kings probably would have lost the game. The apparent Calgary goal in the first overtime might have been upheld with the use of video replay, especially with all the extra camera angles that are available these days. The angles they had available on the Prime Ticket broadcast in 1990 could not conclusively make the call, but I bet they could've today.
That game, by the way, I remember watching live. I was still living at my parents house (I was less than a year out of high school at that point), sitting in the same space on the couch I always did when I watched Kings games (superstitious much?). It was the Saturday before Easter, and the game ended just after midnight on Easter Sunday. And I was celebrating the win while trying not to be too loud as to wake up the rest of the family.
Watching the games has been a nice holdover to the real hockey season. Especially since I can watch the games without the stress of wondering if they're going to play well enough to win (because as Bob Miller said during the studio parts of the broadcasts, they're not going to show a Kings' loss during Kings Classics).
And just think, training camp is a little more than a month away.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Joining the Human Race Again
Tuesday was a good day.
Best I've had in, I don't know how long (vacation excluded).
Tuesday's are the end of the weekend for me, and they're always difficult to deal with, usually because I end up alone.
I normally end up shopping. Costco. Target. Stater Bros. Making sure that the house has enough food and supplies to last the coming week. And that's if I haven't already done it on Monday. Then it ends up with me dropping off Luc and coming home and catching up on rest.
But after the week back from vacation had, I needed to do something - anything - different.
Some of the highlights from the week back:
The car broke down. A new battery and starter later, and it's back on the road.
Housing issues involving Gina's family, that somehow involve us. Somehow, we always end up involved.
My 20-year high school reunion was this past Saturday, along with a big side event the Friday before.
Then there's Gina's dad, and his mess.
That mess is one I started writing about the other night, hoping it would make me feel better, and it wasn't. It was going nowhere and meant nothing.
But there is a post in there, and it's coming soon.
Anyway, the past week has been hell. And it's come down on me as hard as ever. You come back from a vacation, and you want to ease your way back into the grind. I got ground up from the very start. It left me angry, depressed and bitter. And it showed.
I spent the entire last weekend moping about my lack of a life. Let's face it, Mondays and Tuesdays are not exactly the best days to have off, because you're among the minority of people with the time off. And the work hours don't leave room for much after work to go hang out.
Take the reunion for example. I had been on the fence about going from the start, mostly because of the $80 per person cost. But the Friday night bar bash? I so would have been there.
But I couldn't. I had to work. Having just returned from vacation, and having spent half of my first day back dealing with a broken down car, not going in wasn't an option. And getting off at midnight, going from Riverside to Anaheim would have been probably a 45-minute drive (even with no traffic, remember the city streets), getting me there just in time for last call. Then it would have been another hour back home to Colton.
So after all that crap, I needed some time to find a way to unwind and decompress.
I went bowling.
Not particulary well, mind you. My first three rolls went straight into the gutter. I haven't been in at least three years, probably more.
For $8 and change, I got three games of bowling, shoes and a refillable drink (which I got two refills). And I got rid of some of my frustrations. For that price, I may have to find my bowling ball and make a few more return trips this summer.
And rather than just run another errand, I went to Best Buy to *ahem* browse. Really I went to see the video games and try them out, namely the Wii and Punch-Out. It was my first time playing anything on the Wii. And gotta say, I'm impressed with the system. And Punch-Out is pitch perfect to my memories (I played without the nunchuks, opting for the classic controller).
So I feel almost human again.
Of course, there's a fix to all this. Get another job. But that's easier said than done. One went up on a job board that would be great - except that it's in Santa Monica ... and features the same nights and weekends ... sigh.
I think in the end, the realities of my life have changed. I'm no longer OK with having to choose between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Or Halloween or Easter (which, aren't paid holidays).
Obviously having a child changed a lot of that. But it's not just that. It's just the feeling around the office. It's nowhere near the same as it was 10 years ago. Hell, even three years ago.
But that's a dissertation for another time. I've droned on about my life long enough.
Besides, I have to go to work later this afternoon.
Best I've had in, I don't know how long (vacation excluded).
Tuesday's are the end of the weekend for me, and they're always difficult to deal with, usually because I end up alone.
I normally end up shopping. Costco. Target. Stater Bros. Making sure that the house has enough food and supplies to last the coming week. And that's if I haven't already done it on Monday. Then it ends up with me dropping off Luc and coming home and catching up on rest.
But after the week back from vacation had, I needed to do something - anything - different.
Some of the highlights from the week back:
That mess is one I started writing about the other night, hoping it would make me feel better, and it wasn't. It was going nowhere and meant nothing.
But there is a post in there, and it's coming soon.
Anyway, the past week has been hell. And it's come down on me as hard as ever. You come back from a vacation, and you want to ease your way back into the grind. I got ground up from the very start. It left me angry, depressed and bitter. And it showed.
I spent the entire last weekend moping about my lack of a life. Let's face it, Mondays and Tuesdays are not exactly the best days to have off, because you're among the minority of people with the time off. And the work hours don't leave room for much after work to go hang out.
Take the reunion for example. I had been on the fence about going from the start, mostly because of the $80 per person cost. But the Friday night bar bash? I so would have been there.
But I couldn't. I had to work. Having just returned from vacation, and having spent half of my first day back dealing with a broken down car, not going in wasn't an option. And getting off at midnight, going from Riverside to Anaheim would have been probably a 45-minute drive (even with no traffic, remember the city streets), getting me there just in time for last call. Then it would have been another hour back home to Colton.
So after all that crap, I needed some time to find a way to unwind and decompress.
I went bowling.
Not particulary well, mind you. My first three rolls went straight into the gutter. I haven't been in at least three years, probably more.
For $8 and change, I got three games of bowling, shoes and a refillable drink (which I got two refills). And I got rid of some of my frustrations. For that price, I may have to find my bowling ball and make a few more return trips this summer.
And rather than just run another errand, I went to Best Buy to *ahem* browse. Really I went to see the video games and try them out, namely the Wii and Punch-Out. It was my first time playing anything on the Wii. And gotta say, I'm impressed with the system. And Punch-Out is pitch perfect to my memories (I played without the nunchuks, opting for the classic controller).
So I feel almost human again.
Of course, there's a fix to all this. Get another job. But that's easier said than done. One went up on a job board that would be great - except that it's in Santa Monica ... and features the same nights and weekends ... sigh.
I think in the end, the realities of my life have changed. I'm no longer OK with having to choose between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Or Halloween or Easter (which, aren't paid holidays).
Obviously having a child changed a lot of that. But it's not just that. It's just the feeling around the office. It's nowhere near the same as it was 10 years ago. Hell, even three years ago.
But that's a dissertation for another time. I've droned on about my life long enough.
Besides, I have to go to work later this afternoon.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
High School Confidential
Recently, one of my friends on Facebook, and a former classmate, had been scanning in and posting photos from high school, and it stirred some memories.
But I don't have any photos easily at my disposal. Now, I know what the Loara grads reading this are thinking: "How can the guy who carried a camera with him for two years during high school not have photos?" Well... I think I tossed all the negatives. Besides, they were all in black and white. It's either that or they're at my parents house, so they're not going to be easy to find.
And seeing as my 20-year reunion is this weekend, I figured I'd throw out some of the memories that have stuck in mind all these years.
First off, lets get one thing straight, looking back, I was a lot like Jason Biggs' character in "American Pie," I was a lot like a band geek, but was never in the band. I did play sports, and was on the newspaper, but I was a bit of a geek. Oh well, what are you going to do?
Anyway, on to some of those memories, most of which are worth looking back and laughing. Oh, and in some cases, I'll omit the names to protect the sorta innocent.
* Freshman year of baseball, and we played a game at Mater Dei. On the way back from Santa Ana, we were stuck in traffic. Alongside our bus pulled a car with a, for lack of a better term, hot blonde inside. Everyone took their look and was pretty pleased. And apparently she was reveling in the attention to a certain degree. Well, until one person (and yes, I remember who) took it a step further. He started communicating the woman with sign language. And he asked for a little *ahem* sexual favor.
At that point, she had a bit of sign language for him: The Bird.
* The soccer team had its share of adventures. There were the brawls with Los Al (including one that involved some food being thrown from our bus). There was one player finding relief on the sideline at Esperanza. And speaking of Esperanza, Eric Smith took out some frustrations by stepping on the back of one of the Aztec players. And Matt Drager helping lead the group trying to get the bus driver to leave without a coach freshman year. And we nearly made it out of the school's parking lot, too.
* The day after the junior-senior Powder Puff war (why did they ever cancel that game?), one of the participants was mulling the results of the night before. And our cheerleader/songleader was disappointed that many of the water balloons she filled didn't pop when she threw them. I mean, why wouldn't the condoms she was using as water balloons break? By the way, how cool was it that our class swept the two Powder Puff games (well, except for all the serious injuries suffered)?
* Watching the baseball team implode in 1987 after the two players were busted on the Lompoc trip. That was probably the best major sports class while we were there, with their football and wrestling league titles. They probably would have won the baseball title if not for the transgressions. The football team's Empire League title was the last by a school not named Los Alamitos or Esperanza until those two schools were moved out to a higher league.
* Seeing the reaction of everyone the morning of the Northridge earthquake. I was in zero period baseball that morning, and we had gone a long run, so my legs were a little wobbly any way. But standing in the junior court it was pretty funny to watch everyone react. All at once, everyone abandoned their lockers and ran to the center of the court. It all happened in an instant, but it was a sight to see.
* Freshman year having Coach Conroy as my history teacher. The man was, how do I put this delicately, the worst teacher ever. The first semester, we were using Mrs. Wilcott's classroom during her conference period, and she hated him. There were only like 14 of us in the class at the time, so it was hard to miss any of the things that were happening. His personality alone made you feel a little uncomfortable around him, almost like he was gay, but overcompensating for it by wanting to seem interested in the girls in the class. It was creepy.
One day, he made a bet with some of the people in the class (I was Switzerland, and was to be the judge in the bet) over "Little House on the Prairie." To settle the bet he sent me to the coach's office to track down the TV and VCR so we could watch it in class. As a freshman, going into the coach's office (and seeing Coach Hill there) was quite intimidating. But I brought it back to the class and we watched. Second semester we were in Mr. Braun's class and then he was gone at the end of the year.
* Then there were some of the other teachers.
Mr. Barron and his whole Chester A. Arthur obsession.
Mr. Sadler's poor woe-is-me monotone voice that I had to sit and listen to during fifth period (after lunch) for two straight years. That was a struggle staying awake.
Mrs. Kretsinger's sharp knowledge of the English language and diagramming sentences. To a degree, she sent me on the way to my life as a writer. And the class was great because we didn't read any of the books the other English classes were reading.
That's all I have for now. If I come up with any others, I'll add them. And if you have any stories, feel free to post them here in the comments.
But I don't have any photos easily at my disposal. Now, I know what the Loara grads reading this are thinking: "How can the guy who carried a camera with him for two years during high school not have photos?" Well... I think I tossed all the negatives. Besides, they were all in black and white. It's either that or they're at my parents house, so they're not going to be easy to find.
And seeing as my 20-year reunion is this weekend, I figured I'd throw out some of the memories that have stuck in mind all these years.
First off, lets get one thing straight, looking back, I was a lot like Jason Biggs' character in "American Pie," I was a lot like a band geek, but was never in the band. I did play sports, and was on the newspaper, but I was a bit of a geek. Oh well, what are you going to do?
Anyway, on to some of those memories, most of which are worth looking back and laughing. Oh, and in some cases, I'll omit the names to protect the sorta innocent.
* Freshman year of baseball, and we played a game at Mater Dei. On the way back from Santa Ana, we were stuck in traffic. Alongside our bus pulled a car with a, for lack of a better term, hot blonde inside. Everyone took their look and was pretty pleased. And apparently she was reveling in the attention to a certain degree. Well, until one person (and yes, I remember who) took it a step further. He started communicating the woman with sign language. And he asked for a little *ahem* sexual favor.
At that point, she had a bit of sign language for him: The Bird.
* The soccer team had its share of adventures. There were the brawls with Los Al (including one that involved some food being thrown from our bus). There was one player finding relief on the sideline at Esperanza. And speaking of Esperanza, Eric Smith took out some frustrations by stepping on the back of one of the Aztec players. And Matt Drager helping lead the group trying to get the bus driver to leave without a coach freshman year. And we nearly made it out of the school's parking lot, too.
* The day after the junior-senior Powder Puff war (why did they ever cancel that game?), one of the participants was mulling the results of the night before. And our cheerleader/songleader was disappointed that many of the water balloons she filled didn't pop when she threw them. I mean, why wouldn't the condoms she was using as water balloons break? By the way, how cool was it that our class swept the two Powder Puff games (well, except for all the serious injuries suffered)?
* Watching the baseball team implode in 1987 after the two players were busted on the Lompoc trip. That was probably the best major sports class while we were there, with their football and wrestling league titles. They probably would have won the baseball title if not for the transgressions. The football team's Empire League title was the last by a school not named Los Alamitos or Esperanza until those two schools were moved out to a higher league.
* Seeing the reaction of everyone the morning of the Northridge earthquake. I was in zero period baseball that morning, and we had gone a long run, so my legs were a little wobbly any way. But standing in the junior court it was pretty funny to watch everyone react. All at once, everyone abandoned their lockers and ran to the center of the court. It all happened in an instant, but it was a sight to see.
* Freshman year having Coach Conroy as my history teacher. The man was, how do I put this delicately, the worst teacher ever. The first semester, we were using Mrs. Wilcott's classroom during her conference period, and she hated him. There were only like 14 of us in the class at the time, so it was hard to miss any of the things that were happening. His personality alone made you feel a little uncomfortable around him, almost like he was gay, but overcompensating for it by wanting to seem interested in the girls in the class. It was creepy.
One day, he made a bet with some of the people in the class (I was Switzerland, and was to be the judge in the bet) over "Little House on the Prairie." To settle the bet he sent me to the coach's office to track down the TV and VCR so we could watch it in class. As a freshman, going into the coach's office (and seeing Coach Hill there) was quite intimidating. But I brought it back to the class and we watched. Second semester we were in Mr. Braun's class and then he was gone at the end of the year.
* Then there were some of the other teachers.
Mr. Barron and his whole Chester A. Arthur obsession.
Mr. Sadler's poor woe-is-me monotone voice that I had to sit and listen to during fifth period (after lunch) for two straight years. That was a struggle staying awake.
Mrs. Kretsinger's sharp knowledge of the English language and diagramming sentences. To a degree, she sent me on the way to my life as a writer. And the class was great because we didn't read any of the books the other English classes were reading.
That's all I have for now. If I come up with any others, I'll add them. And if you have any stories, feel free to post them here in the comments.
Wrapping things up
I'm sitting here at home on Tuesday night staring at the end of the vacation.
Oh well. What are you going to do?
The past two weeks have been amazing. The whole trip was exactly what was needed. No worrying about the future of journalism, no worrying about layoffs and no dealing with the California summer heat.
But all good things can not last forever, so I head back to the job to see exactly what and how much has changed in two weeks. But before I get there, I think I'll take one more trip around Costa Rica...
Before leaving, we did take a trip out to see some of the environmental areas that many American tourists go to. A friend of Gina's cousin runs tourists out to the sites, and that was good enough for us. He charged us $180, which was pretty good, considering we had been looking at spending $250 or so to be part of a group. Instead, we were on our own.
He took us out to see the Arenal volcano, a two-plus-hour drive from the house in Ciudad Colon. We passed by farms growing sugar cane, coffee and plantains. We passed by farms with cows and a bunch of roadside stands selling queso palmetto, a fresh cheese that Gina likes enough that we brought some home.
Then things got interesting.
There are the bridges, that only accommodate cars going one way at a time, with everyone on their best behavior, yielding for the other side. Then there was the piece of the highway along the mountain that had fallen off thanks to the amazing amount of moisture they receive in the area every year.
As we got closer to the volcano, it became obvious we probably weren't going to see much of the mountain. It was raining (it is surrounded by rain forest after all) and very cloudy. We got to the town of La Fortuna (more on it in a bit), where we should have been able to see it, and there was nothing but clouds.
But we pressed on up past the resorts (where the tour guide told us people went to get away from everything) and the ecotourism locations (with the canopy zip lines and Tarzan swings). We stopped at the edge of the Arenal lake, alongside the volcano to stretch our legs and hope for a chance to see the volcano.
Then, in an effort to get closer, the tour guide recommended taking a ride on the lake on one of the tour boats. He helps negotiate a price of $100 (we got a discount since Gina's a Tico).
So we climb down to the boat and hop on. The captain is pretty cool, and lets Luc sit at the wheel and let him steer. And Luc is happy to be doing it. At one point, Luc figured out how to lift the motor out of the water, prompting the captain to tell our guide that we were in trouble, because the boy is smart.
The view from the boat is beautiful. You get a really good look at the rain forest that sits along its shores. Only problem was that most of the animals weren't out because of the rain.
Oh, the rain.
It was wet and windy. And no matter which direction we were facing, the rain would find a way to get us under the canopy on the top of the boat.
But a little water never hurt anyone, and we pressed on, hoping to see the active volcano.
No such luck. The best we got was maybe the bottom third of the mountain.
We turned around and headed back into town and had some lunch, then took in the sights in La Fortuna.
Wanna know why it's called La Fortuna? Cause they're making a fortune off the American tourists who come through.
There's a store to cater to every taste of souvenir hunter. Artists hawking their wares. And don't forget all those spa resorts up the road. And banks aplenty for those who need to get more money.
It was an experience well worth the $280 we ended up paying for it.
The whole Costa Rica experience was one that will be with us for a while. It was hard to want to leave, even though we knew we had to.
It's hard to wrap it all up in a few short, pithy paragraphs. But I'll try to give you a few things to know in case you want to go.
* The country is very hilly. Not quite to the degree of San Francisco, but you will be climbing hills while walking around towns and driving.
* You shouldn't have problems getting around, even if you only have a basic California knowledge of Spanish. The traffic signs are pretty self explanatory, and if you know where you're going (do your research online), the taxi drivers will get you to the right place.
* Looking for a bar? Shouldn't be a problem. There are a lot of them, and almost all of them have a sign out front featuring one of the two national brands of beers: Imperial or Pilsen, followed by the name of the establishment, usually with the word Bar in the name.
* Similarly, restaurants that are more family friendly feature signs for soft drinks or a chicken company. And they also have the name restaurant in their name.
* If you're afraid of trying the local cuisine, not to worry, you'll find plenty of American brands. There's Denny's, McDonald's, Burger King, KFC, Wendy's, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, Quiznos, Subway, Church's Chicken, Outback Steakhouse and ... Hooters. Yes, Hooters. We opted to stay away from the American options and came home just fine.
* Yes, a lot of places will accept US Dollars. But beware, each place will make its own exchange rate. You're better off changing into Colones and paying that way. Oh, and because you are an American tourist, they will get as much from you as they can. The museum trip cost us $6 apiece. Locals pay 1,000 Colones a person.
* Your Visa or Mastercard debit card should be accepted without any problem. They'll charge you in Colones, and your bank will do the exchange rate and post it to your account.
* Don't go to the airport to come home with an empty wallet (or bank account). They charge a $27 per person departure tax for everyone leaving the country. And you have to pay it before you check in, then you have to fill out the immigration document on the back. Oh, and if you don't do it, the airport workers won't necessarily be helpful or patient with you for not knowing you had to do it.
So, that's about it. Actually, that's most of it. But the last bit will probably be a bitchfest about traveling with a 2-year-old and 72-year-old (who acts about like a 2-year-old).
I do have some random things I want to touch on as well this week, and I'm hoping to get a post of high school memories up before the end of the week (seeing as my 20-year reunion is Saturday).
All-in-all, it's good to be home. But I can't wait for my next vacation.
Oh well. What are you going to do?
The past two weeks have been amazing. The whole trip was exactly what was needed. No worrying about the future of journalism, no worrying about layoffs and no dealing with the California summer heat.
But all good things can not last forever, so I head back to the job to see exactly what and how much has changed in two weeks. But before I get there, I think I'll take one more trip around Costa Rica...
Before leaving, we did take a trip out to see some of the environmental areas that many American tourists go to. A friend of Gina's cousin runs tourists out to the sites, and that was good enough for us. He charged us $180, which was pretty good, considering we had been looking at spending $250 or so to be part of a group. Instead, we were on our own.
He took us out to see the Arenal volcano, a two-plus-hour drive from the house in Ciudad Colon. We passed by farms growing sugar cane, coffee and plantains. We passed by farms with cows and a bunch of roadside stands selling queso palmetto, a fresh cheese that Gina likes enough that we brought some home.
Then things got interesting.
There are the bridges, that only accommodate cars going one way at a time, with everyone on their best behavior, yielding for the other side. Then there was the piece of the highway along the mountain that had fallen off thanks to the amazing amount of moisture they receive in the area every year.
As we got closer to the volcano, it became obvious we probably weren't going to see much of the mountain. It was raining (it is surrounded by rain forest after all) and very cloudy. We got to the town of La Fortuna (more on it in a bit), where we should have been able to see it, and there was nothing but clouds.
But we pressed on up past the resorts (where the tour guide told us people went to get away from everything) and the ecotourism locations (with the canopy zip lines and Tarzan swings). We stopped at the edge of the Arenal lake, alongside the volcano to stretch our legs and hope for a chance to see the volcano.
Then, in an effort to get closer, the tour guide recommended taking a ride on the lake on one of the tour boats. He helps negotiate a price of $100 (we got a discount since Gina's a Tico).
So we climb down to the boat and hop on. The captain is pretty cool, and lets Luc sit at the wheel and let him steer. And Luc is happy to be doing it. At one point, Luc figured out how to lift the motor out of the water, prompting the captain to tell our guide that we were in trouble, because the boy is smart.
The view from the boat is beautiful. You get a really good look at the rain forest that sits along its shores. Only problem was that most of the animals weren't out because of the rain.
Oh, the rain.
It was wet and windy. And no matter which direction we were facing, the rain would find a way to get us under the canopy on the top of the boat.
But a little water never hurt anyone, and we pressed on, hoping to see the active volcano.
No such luck. The best we got was maybe the bottom third of the mountain.
We turned around and headed back into town and had some lunch, then took in the sights in La Fortuna.
Wanna know why it's called La Fortuna? Cause they're making a fortune off the American tourists who come through.
There's a store to cater to every taste of souvenir hunter. Artists hawking their wares. And don't forget all those spa resorts up the road. And banks aplenty for those who need to get more money.
It was an experience well worth the $280 we ended up paying for it.
The whole Costa Rica experience was one that will be with us for a while. It was hard to want to leave, even though we knew we had to.
It's hard to wrap it all up in a few short, pithy paragraphs. But I'll try to give you a few things to know in case you want to go.
* The country is very hilly. Not quite to the degree of San Francisco, but you will be climbing hills while walking around towns and driving.
* You shouldn't have problems getting around, even if you only have a basic California knowledge of Spanish. The traffic signs are pretty self explanatory, and if you know where you're going (do your research online), the taxi drivers will get you to the right place.
* Looking for a bar? Shouldn't be a problem. There are a lot of them, and almost all of them have a sign out front featuring one of the two national brands of beers: Imperial or Pilsen, followed by the name of the establishment, usually with the word Bar in the name.
* Similarly, restaurants that are more family friendly feature signs for soft drinks or a chicken company. And they also have the name restaurant in their name.
* If you're afraid of trying the local cuisine, not to worry, you'll find plenty of American brands. There's Denny's, McDonald's, Burger King, KFC, Wendy's, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, Quiznos, Subway, Church's Chicken, Outback Steakhouse and ... Hooters. Yes, Hooters. We opted to stay away from the American options and came home just fine.
* Yes, a lot of places will accept US Dollars. But beware, each place will make its own exchange rate. You're better off changing into Colones and paying that way. Oh, and because you are an American tourist, they will get as much from you as they can. The museum trip cost us $6 apiece. Locals pay 1,000 Colones a person.
* Your Visa or Mastercard debit card should be accepted without any problem. They'll charge you in Colones, and your bank will do the exchange rate and post it to your account.
* Don't go to the airport to come home with an empty wallet (or bank account). They charge a $27 per person departure tax for everyone leaving the country. And you have to pay it before you check in, then you have to fill out the immigration document on the back. Oh, and if you don't do it, the airport workers won't necessarily be helpful or patient with you for not knowing you had to do it.
So, that's about it. Actually, that's most of it. But the last bit will probably be a bitchfest about traveling with a 2-year-old and 72-year-old (who acts about like a 2-year-old).
I do have some random things I want to touch on as well this week, and I'm hoping to get a post of high school memories up before the end of the week (seeing as my 20-year reunion is Saturday).
All-in-all, it's good to be home. But I can't wait for my next vacation.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Pura vida!
"Oh, the girl will take care of it in the morning."
That was the reply when Gina offered to help clean up after dinner earlier this week at her cousin's house in Ciudad Colon.
You see, Gina's cousin is a finacial consultant, having formerly been the first female head of a bank in Costa Rica. Her husband is a civil engineer. Their property includes two houses (one for her in-laws), a pool, a yard as big as my parents' house that has papaya and coconut trees and the office building for her consulting firm (that she runs with her father-in-law).
Also included in the house is a groundskeeper/caretaker of the property and household help, including, for lack of a better term, a maid. She makes the beds, cleans the house, does the dishes, puts out the food (she readily admits she's not a good cook, so we've been doing our share of cooking), does the laundry ... pretty much everything.
It's cool ... and a bit overwhelming at the same time. I mean, wow. How many of us, outside of staying at a hotel, have ever had the opportunity to have a maid?
I think that both of us are trying our best not to rely on her because, really, we're used to doing things ourselves. But there are just things that happen when we step away. And it's sorta nice.
Oh, and as I'm writing this, their private dance instructor just showed up. Both her cousin and husband aren't home yet, so Gina and I are looking at each other: dance instructor? Really!?!?
Oh well, I suppose we could move down here and live this sort of life.
But why would I want to give up on the glamour and prestige of a career in journalism?
Being stuck without transportation while on vacation sucks. Thanks to years of abuse, we don't have the room to secure a rental, so we stayed at the house all day Wednesday.
Deciding we couldn't just waste away the vacation in a house (no matter how big and spacious and beautiful), we hopped the bus to San Jose.
For 310 colones apiece (that's roughly 70 cents, depending on the exchange rate you get at the bank), we were taken the 20 kilometers - hooray for the metric system - from Ciudad Colon into the capital San Jose.
San Jose is a big, crowded, dirty city. We decided to take in a little bit of culture, so we went to the national museum and saw the history of the country. Unfortunately for us, two of the exhibits were closed. One was the butterfly garden, which was one of the things we had hoped to see in town. Oh well.
But what we did see was interesting. They had part of one of the forts that guarded the town in the early days, before they decommissioned the army. And a complete history of the country, and how its diversity shaped the region.
We then walked down to a busy pedestrian mall. Gina describes it as "Santa Monica, without the ocean." You've got shopping centers with food courts. Lots of little shops, like those you'd see along the streets of New York. Shops selling everything from clothes to jewelry to souveniers. All old, a bit dirty but kinda quaint.
And crowded. A whole mass of people trying to share the same space while people trying to sell pirated DVD's set up shop on the ground (Ice Age 3 and Up were two of the titles I saw).
Everyone in the shops we went to were very nice. And the taxi drivers were knowledgeable, helpful AND nice.
We warned to watch our things, so we didn't take any pictures of the area.
So, that was the day.
One more full day, then a full day of travel home.
More thoughts then.
That was the reply when Gina offered to help clean up after dinner earlier this week at her cousin's house in Ciudad Colon.
You see, Gina's cousin is a finacial consultant, having formerly been the first female head of a bank in Costa Rica. Her husband is a civil engineer. Their property includes two houses (one for her in-laws), a pool, a yard as big as my parents' house that has papaya and coconut trees and the office building for her consulting firm (that she runs with her father-in-law).
Also included in the house is a groundskeeper/caretaker of the property and household help, including, for lack of a better term, a maid. She makes the beds, cleans the house, does the dishes, puts out the food (she readily admits she's not a good cook, so we've been doing our share of cooking), does the laundry ... pretty much everything.
It's cool ... and a bit overwhelming at the same time. I mean, wow. How many of us, outside of staying at a hotel, have ever had the opportunity to have a maid?
I think that both of us are trying our best not to rely on her because, really, we're used to doing things ourselves. But there are just things that happen when we step away. And it's sorta nice.
Oh, and as I'm writing this, their private dance instructor just showed up. Both her cousin and husband aren't home yet, so Gina and I are looking at each other: dance instructor? Really!?!?
Oh well, I suppose we could move down here and live this sort of life.
But why would I want to give up on the glamour and prestige of a career in journalism?
Being stuck without transportation while on vacation sucks. Thanks to years of abuse, we don't have the room to secure a rental, so we stayed at the house all day Wednesday.
Deciding we couldn't just waste away the vacation in a house (no matter how big and spacious and beautiful), we hopped the bus to San Jose.
For 310 colones apiece (that's roughly 70 cents, depending on the exchange rate you get at the bank), we were taken the 20 kilometers - hooray for the metric system - from Ciudad Colon into the capital San Jose.
San Jose is a big, crowded, dirty city. We decided to take in a little bit of culture, so we went to the national museum and saw the history of the country. Unfortunately for us, two of the exhibits were closed. One was the butterfly garden, which was one of the things we had hoped to see in town. Oh well.
But what we did see was interesting. They had part of one of the forts that guarded the town in the early days, before they decommissioned the army. And a complete history of the country, and how its diversity shaped the region.
We then walked down to a busy pedestrian mall. Gina describes it as "Santa Monica, without the ocean." You've got shopping centers with food courts. Lots of little shops, like those you'd see along the streets of New York. Shops selling everything from clothes to jewelry to souveniers. All old, a bit dirty but kinda quaint.
And crowded. A whole mass of people trying to share the same space while people trying to sell pirated DVD's set up shop on the ground (Ice Age 3 and Up were two of the titles I saw).
Everyone in the shops we went to were very nice. And the taxi drivers were knowledgeable, helpful AND nice.
We warned to watch our things, so we didn't take any pictures of the area.
So, that was the day.
One more full day, then a full day of travel home.
More thoughts then.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Things I've learned so far
This trip has been amazing so far. It's been so nice to not be at work and not have the stresses of home.
But coming to a new country and getting to know the lay of the land, as it were, can be daunting. Especially as guests in relatives' houses.
AS I mentioned in Monday's Random Thoughts, I've been working on my Spanish, and noticed that getting around can be a challenge, depending on where you are.
But there are a couple of other things that we in the US tend to take for granted that aren't quite the same here.
First off, get used to cold showers. With all the humidity there is, it's not too terrible to deal with, but man... it's seriously cold. Especially in the older houses and neighborhoods.
Today, before heading out to stay with one of Gina's cousins in a newer area, I was able to sneak in and get a brief lukewarm shower. And I mean brief. The warm water was there and gone in a minute.
A quick check of things out here, and we have warm, even hot water. No worries for the next couple of days. And that will be refreshing.
Speaking of getting things clean, well, there are no dryers. Your clothes drying system is the same one they've had for hundreds of years: The clothesline.
Wash your clothes in the washing machine (which, we "broke" at Gina's uncle's house; a simple repair we hope), then hang them up to dry.
Most of the houses have set aside roofed areas for their clotheslines, allowing the air and sun to get through, but not the rain. It really can't stop the moisture in the air, which meant that all our cotton socks had to spend the night outside, and were cold and damp in the morning. And with the way the weather shifts around here, you definitely are taking your chances.
So, that's the latest from vacation. We've finally got some images into a computer and should start sharing soon. Until then, have a good one.
But coming to a new country and getting to know the lay of the land, as it were, can be daunting. Especially as guests in relatives' houses.
AS I mentioned in Monday's Random Thoughts, I've been working on my Spanish, and noticed that getting around can be a challenge, depending on where you are.
But there are a couple of other things that we in the US tend to take for granted that aren't quite the same here.
First off, get used to cold showers. With all the humidity there is, it's not too terrible to deal with, but man... it's seriously cold. Especially in the older houses and neighborhoods.
Today, before heading out to stay with one of Gina's cousins in a newer area, I was able to sneak in and get a brief lukewarm shower. And I mean brief. The warm water was there and gone in a minute.
A quick check of things out here, and we have warm, even hot water. No worries for the next couple of days. And that will be refreshing.
Speaking of getting things clean, well, there are no dryers. Your clothes drying system is the same one they've had for hundreds of years: The clothesline.
Wash your clothes in the washing machine (which, we "broke" at Gina's uncle's house; a simple repair we hope), then hang them up to dry.
Most of the houses have set aside roofed areas for their clotheslines, allowing the air and sun to get through, but not the rain. It really can't stop the moisture in the air, which meant that all our cotton socks had to spend the night outside, and were cold and damp in the morning. And with the way the weather shifts around here, you definitely are taking your chances.
So, that's the latest from vacation. We've finally got some images into a computer and should start sharing soon. Until then, have a good one.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Varios pensamientos para Lunes
Hello from vacation. Just thought I'd drop in with a few random thoughts from our trip, so far.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS: Getting in, I was drenched. Sweat caused from carrying bags and baby were not helped by a choking amount of humidity as we touched down in San Jose. Welcome to life near the equator.
Then comes the fun of driving in this country. The highways are in pretty good shape, but everyone drives like a maniac, diving to and fro to get to their destination.
After our arrival, we went to get some food (read about it on Gina's blog), and got our first surprise: Denny's is here now. Of course, it's up near the airport and the tourist areas, so it shouldn't be too much of a surprise.
We made our way into the town where Gina's family lives, and make sure you buckle up (though no one seems to care if you do) because you're going on a bumpy ride. The streets here are so filled with potholes that it would be enough to cost someone an election in the US. Deep and wide. People swerve back and forth across lanes to get around them. Seriously, some are big enough that they'd swallow your car.
The middle class here live in nice houses that are fortified by security. Apparently crime here is growing, so many have taken serious steps to protect themselves. Gina's uncle alone has locked gates, with razor wire across the top of the 10-foot wall. From the garage, you have a locked gate before you can go up the steps to the house, where you'll find a locked door with alarm. That describes most of the houses in this part of town.
Other parts of town, however, are what you would expect from a country that is still considered by many second world. Houses with old, gathered pieces of wood with rusted tin roofs and garbage. But it's there spot in the world, and they protect it any way they can.
The weather's been a mixed bag. From the humidity when we arrived, we were treated to rain on Friday evening. For the most part, however, it's been mild. Though being at all the family gatherings has made for some overheating.
As for me, I'm a bit of a giant here. There are certain things that remind me that the average person here is a bit smaller. The bed we're staying on is nice, but a bit short (my feet hang off the end).
Gina's grandmother's house (where she's lived 80 of her 100 years) is only 5 yards wide in the main living area. They also added on to the home, and they didn't quite get the doors to a standard height, so you have to duck to get into the back part. The house was bursting at the seems Friday during a celebration. Getting 60 people into there made for some cramped quarters.
All in all, it's been a nice trip so far. It's nice to know we're done with the celebrations and we'll be able to see some other sights now, before we have to come home.
EN ESPAÑOL: One thing about being down here, immersed in the culture, has put my three years of Spanish education to the test.
Most of Gina's family has a pretty good grasp on English (they are a well-educated bunch), but they're all pushing me to communicate in Spanish. I'm giving it a good go, but a lot of times I feel like I'm just smiling and saying gracías or sí or no or ¿que?
And the confusion doesn't end there.
First, there's the whole monetary system. We exchanged some of our money, and every dollar is worth about 750 colones. But you get down to the smaller parts of the denomination, and the stores pretty much round it off. We made a purchase of 2410 colones ($4.13), and I gave them 2500 in bills. Rather than give me 90 (very small change), I got 100 back. Easier to deal with for the stores.
Then there's the keyboard I'm pounding this column out on. It's sorta the normal QWERTY keyboard. Except for that key dedicated to Ñ. Or the accent mark in the place of an apostrophe. And the dedicated key for the upside down question mark. And typing Web addresses is slower when you have to look for the back slash up with the numbers.
SECOND IMPRESSIONS: Gina's family has been abosultely lovely to me and Luc from the start. It's been an amazing time surrounded by all these family members whom I've never met and, in some cases, may never meet again.
Luc has been the absolute facination of the parties. The active 2-year-old with the light blond hair. And as you can imagine, there aren't a lot of blond's around here (OK, he's the ONLY one). One member of the family lovingly described him as a little candle, since he's tall, thin and very bright on top.
But one of the things that sticks out from the weekend's events was how much everyone in Gina's family wanted to know how I was doing and what my opinion of everything.
What do you think of the family? Are we crazy? Are you doing OK? Are you hot? Are you tired? And what do you think of the family? No, really, what do you think? Are we all a little bit loco? What do you think of the party? Isn't it beautiful? Are you having a good time? Really? And what do you think of all this and the family?
If only I was exaggerating.
But I smile and compliment everyone. Because, truly, they have been gracious hosts, putting up with a gringo who understands maybe half of what they're saying on the first try, and can't respond to them with enough gratitude for an amazing weekend of fiestas in amazing locales.
But more on those later.
For now, I need some more rest. I'm making some of my salsa later.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS: Getting in, I was drenched. Sweat caused from carrying bags and baby were not helped by a choking amount of humidity as we touched down in San Jose. Welcome to life near the equator.
Then comes the fun of driving in this country. The highways are in pretty good shape, but everyone drives like a maniac, diving to and fro to get to their destination.
After our arrival, we went to get some food (read about it on Gina's blog), and got our first surprise: Denny's is here now. Of course, it's up near the airport and the tourist areas, so it shouldn't be too much of a surprise.
We made our way into the town where Gina's family lives, and make sure you buckle up (though no one seems to care if you do) because you're going on a bumpy ride. The streets here are so filled with potholes that it would be enough to cost someone an election in the US. Deep and wide. People swerve back and forth across lanes to get around them. Seriously, some are big enough that they'd swallow your car.
The middle class here live in nice houses that are fortified by security. Apparently crime here is growing, so many have taken serious steps to protect themselves. Gina's uncle alone has locked gates, with razor wire across the top of the 10-foot wall. From the garage, you have a locked gate before you can go up the steps to the house, where you'll find a locked door with alarm. That describes most of the houses in this part of town.
Other parts of town, however, are what you would expect from a country that is still considered by many second world. Houses with old, gathered pieces of wood with rusted tin roofs and garbage. But it's there spot in the world, and they protect it any way they can.
The weather's been a mixed bag. From the humidity when we arrived, we were treated to rain on Friday evening. For the most part, however, it's been mild. Though being at all the family gatherings has made for some overheating.
As for me, I'm a bit of a giant here. There are certain things that remind me that the average person here is a bit smaller. The bed we're staying on is nice, but a bit short (my feet hang off the end).
Gina's grandmother's house (where she's lived 80 of her 100 years) is only 5 yards wide in the main living area. They also added on to the home, and they didn't quite get the doors to a standard height, so you have to duck to get into the back part. The house was bursting at the seems Friday during a celebration. Getting 60 people into there made for some cramped quarters.
All in all, it's been a nice trip so far. It's nice to know we're done with the celebrations and we'll be able to see some other sights now, before we have to come home.
EN ESPAÑOL: One thing about being down here, immersed in the culture, has put my three years of Spanish education to the test.
Most of Gina's family has a pretty good grasp on English (they are a well-educated bunch), but they're all pushing me to communicate in Spanish. I'm giving it a good go, but a lot of times I feel like I'm just smiling and saying gracías or sí or no or ¿que?
And the confusion doesn't end there.
First, there's the whole monetary system. We exchanged some of our money, and every dollar is worth about 750 colones. But you get down to the smaller parts of the denomination, and the stores pretty much round it off. We made a purchase of 2410 colones ($4.13), and I gave them 2500 in bills. Rather than give me 90 (very small change), I got 100 back. Easier to deal with for the stores.
Then there's the keyboard I'm pounding this column out on. It's sorta the normal QWERTY keyboard. Except for that key dedicated to Ñ. Or the accent mark in the place of an apostrophe. And the dedicated key for the upside down question mark. And typing Web addresses is slower when you have to look for the back slash up with the numbers.
SECOND IMPRESSIONS: Gina's family has been abosultely lovely to me and Luc from the start. It's been an amazing time surrounded by all these family members whom I've never met and, in some cases, may never meet again.
Luc has been the absolute facination of the parties. The active 2-year-old with the light blond hair. And as you can imagine, there aren't a lot of blond's around here (OK, he's the ONLY one). One member of the family lovingly described him as a little candle, since he's tall, thin and very bright on top.
But one of the things that sticks out from the weekend's events was how much everyone in Gina's family wanted to know how I was doing and what my opinion of everything.
What do you think of the family? Are we crazy? Are you doing OK? Are you hot? Are you tired? And what do you think of the family? No, really, what do you think? Are we all a little bit loco? What do you think of the party? Isn't it beautiful? Are you having a good time? Really? And what do you think of all this and the family?
If only I was exaggerating.
But I smile and compliment everyone. Because, truly, they have been gracious hosts, putting up with a gringo who understands maybe half of what they're saying on the first try, and can't respond to them with enough gratitude for an amazing weekend of fiestas in amazing locales.
But more on those later.
For now, I need some more rest. I'm making some of my salsa later.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
In the News
QUITTER: So, Sarah Palin resigned as governor of Alaska.
Woo-hoo!
Actually, in reality, it's probably not happy news for those of us who want her to just go away. It means she's free to roam, go on the airwaves and maybe shudder run for President.
The one thing that has been a constant since the election has been her weighing in on the issues. She didn't go away quietly, like other failed Vice Presidential nominees have.
We had her showing up after her granddaughter was born. Then she was around after David Letterman made the joke. And now, the day before we celebrated our country's Independence, she was out there again, grabbing the spotlight again. And even since she's resigned, people are paying attention to what she's doing.
We have a term for people like that: MEDIA WHORE.
She got a taste of it during the election, and now she's gorging on it. And worse, she's going to continue finding her way in front of the camera.
Here she was, a pretty much someone no one outside of Alaska had ever heard of (seriously, how many governors outside your state can you name?). She shot to stardom thanks, in part, the her resemblance to Tina Fey, which is just as good an excuse to break out this:
And as the constant laughs brought her more attention, the more people thought that maybe they had something there. With her folksiness and her "down-home" attitude, she became the star of the heartland.
Unfortunately for us in the "brainland," having someone who looks good only works when you're selling entertainment -- you know, movies, TV shows and magazine covers.
Which, hopefully, will be the route she chooses. I'd rather see her become the "white Oprah" (as Tina Fey said in another sketch) or the female Rush Limbaugh than see her parade around the country for the next three-to-four years trying to drum up support to send her to the White House.
THIS WAS IT: We've had the memorial service, so hopefully things will die down a bit with the Michael Jackson coverage. Likely not, I'm sure, since ratings probably were through the roof for any kind of news special anyone could drum up.
But Tuesday's event provided a fitting end point for those of us who could care less about the final resting place and legal fights still to ensue.
Let's face it, when you have the young daughter, in front of a worldwide audience, feeling the loss of her daddy, anyone watching had to lose it, even just a little bit.
The event was nice as a whole, to move past the bizarre behavior, weird incidents and court cases and just remember the person who ENTERTAINED us.
Michael Jackson may have turned into this weird and bizarre manchild to many people around the world these past few years. But in the end, who were we to judge? We didn't live his life. We didn't have the advantages that his wealth brought. And we sure as hell didn't have his talent for singing and dancing.
He was sent in front of a jury of his peers (or, the closest substitutes that could be found) and was judged not guilty. People may have their opinion on what happened in that case, and in his bedroom, but in the end, it's just that -- their opinion.
And now, he's faced the ultimate judge. The one entity that will judge us all in the end. One day, we may find out what that judgement was, but until then, let's just shut the hell up about what was or wasn't. Enjoy what the man brought to the world in his 40+ years in showbiz.
Because in the end, it will be the music that will live on, as it does with every artist who left us too soon.
IS IT PUCK SEASON YET?: A few quick thoughts about hockey before I sign off.
First off, it was nice to see the Kings "win" a trade on paper for a change. The addition of Ryan Smyth should provide a good veteran presence on the team's top line, and give support for young center Anze Kopitar as he grows into a stronger player and greater leader.
Yeah, it was tough to have to give up Kyle Quincey to get him, especially after the way he performed after we picked him up off the waiver wire. But, in the terms of assets, general manager Dean Lombardi got a tough, scoring left wing in exchange for a defenseman he got for free in Quincey, a draft pick and a salary draining defenseman who wasn't even on the club's roster at the end of last season.
Second, I've said it before and I'll say it again: We had a lockout and lost a season for this?
The way GM's were throwing their money at players, you'd think the league was swimming in money and was going to be immune to the financial problems plaguing the world.
You know, Mike Cammaleri's a nice player and all, and had a career year playing alongside one of the best players in the game, but $6 million a year? Wow. And 12-year contracts? And ... wow.
These guys are taking us right back to the types of money that caused the league to have a year-long work stoppage. Let's hope they can all figure this out and not have another one when the owners look at their bottom lines after this coming season is all said and done.
That's all I got for now. Have a good day.
Woo-hoo!
Actually, in reality, it's probably not happy news for those of us who want her to just go away. It means she's free to roam, go on the airwaves and maybe shudder run for President.
The one thing that has been a constant since the election has been her weighing in on the issues. She didn't go away quietly, like other failed Vice Presidential nominees have.
We had her showing up after her granddaughter was born. Then she was around after David Letterman made the joke. And now, the day before we celebrated our country's Independence, she was out there again, grabbing the spotlight again. And even since she's resigned, people are paying attention to what she's doing.
We have a term for people like that: MEDIA WHORE.
She got a taste of it during the election, and now she's gorging on it. And worse, she's going to continue finding her way in front of the camera.
Here she was, a pretty much someone no one outside of Alaska had ever heard of (seriously, how many governors outside your state can you name?). She shot to stardom thanks, in part, the her resemblance to Tina Fey, which is just as good an excuse to break out this:
And as the constant laughs brought her more attention, the more people thought that maybe they had something there. With her folksiness and her "down-home" attitude, she became the star of the heartland.
Unfortunately for us in the "brainland," having someone who looks good only works when you're selling entertainment -- you know, movies, TV shows and magazine covers.
Which, hopefully, will be the route she chooses. I'd rather see her become the "white Oprah" (as Tina Fey said in another sketch) or the female Rush Limbaugh than see her parade around the country for the next three-to-four years trying to drum up support to send her to the White House.
THIS WAS IT: We've had the memorial service, so hopefully things will die down a bit with the Michael Jackson coverage. Likely not, I'm sure, since ratings probably were through the roof for any kind of news special anyone could drum up.
But Tuesday's event provided a fitting end point for those of us who could care less about the final resting place and legal fights still to ensue.
Let's face it, when you have the young daughter, in front of a worldwide audience, feeling the loss of her daddy, anyone watching had to lose it, even just a little bit.
The event was nice as a whole, to move past the bizarre behavior, weird incidents and court cases and just remember the person who ENTERTAINED us.
Michael Jackson may have turned into this weird and bizarre manchild to many people around the world these past few years. But in the end, who were we to judge? We didn't live his life. We didn't have the advantages that his wealth brought. And we sure as hell didn't have his talent for singing and dancing.
He was sent in front of a jury of his peers (or, the closest substitutes that could be found) and was judged not guilty. People may have their opinion on what happened in that case, and in his bedroom, but in the end, it's just that -- their opinion.
And now, he's faced the ultimate judge. The one entity that will judge us all in the end. One day, we may find out what that judgement was, but until then, let's just shut the hell up about what was or wasn't. Enjoy what the man brought to the world in his 40+ years in showbiz.
Because in the end, it will be the music that will live on, as it does with every artist who left us too soon.
IS IT PUCK SEASON YET?: A few quick thoughts about hockey before I sign off.
First off, it was nice to see the Kings "win" a trade on paper for a change. The addition of Ryan Smyth should provide a good veteran presence on the team's top line, and give support for young center Anze Kopitar as he grows into a stronger player and greater leader.
Yeah, it was tough to have to give up Kyle Quincey to get him, especially after the way he performed after we picked him up off the waiver wire. But, in the terms of assets, general manager Dean Lombardi got a tough, scoring left wing in exchange for a defenseman he got for free in Quincey, a draft pick and a salary draining defenseman who wasn't even on the club's roster at the end of last season.
Second, I've said it before and I'll say it again: We had a lockout and lost a season for this?
The way GM's were throwing their money at players, you'd think the league was swimming in money and was going to be immune to the financial problems plaguing the world.
You know, Mike Cammaleri's a nice player and all, and had a career year playing alongside one of the best players in the game, but $6 million a year? Wow. And 12-year contracts? And ... wow.
These guys are taking us right back to the types of money that caused the league to have a year-long work stoppage. Let's hope they can all figure this out and not have another one when the owners look at their bottom lines after this coming season is all said and done.
That's all I got for now. Have a good day.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
What do you remember about elementary school?
It's amazing what can trigger a memory.
Most recently for me, it was two things. Earlier Monday, I read another one of those Facebook survey notes. And as the day went on, a story came across my desk about the first day of school for year-round students in Riverside County. And poof, it happened.
I rattled off, in my head, my seven teachers from elementary school. Kindergarten through sixth grade. All of them. I was so amazed, that I went ahead and posted the names in my Facebook status.
Seven women who shaped my life, all in certain ways: Mrs. Michael, Mrs. Hershey, Mrs. Helms, Mrs. Morris, Mrs. Freitag, Mrs. Liles and Ms. Young.
But it wasn't just the teachers, there were other things that came back. Some funny, some embarrassing, some just weird.
Maybe it's the upcoming 20th high school reunion that has jarred some of these loose. Or maybe it's just that I'm actually taking a vacation. But anyway, here's some of the things that jarred loose.
Mrs. Freitag was an older woman who was judged mean as a teacher could be, earning the nickname "Mrs. Fry-frog." But everyone was right beside her when her apartment was one that was lost in the big fire along Palm Lane in Anaheim. A bunch of the tall palms blew in the wind, knocking down power lines and setting a whole row of apartments. One of the greatest disasters in modern Anaheim history.
Mrs. Morris, at a parent-teacher conference, telling my mom that if I wanted to kiss the girls (for some reason, I would spend some recesses chasing the girls, looking for kisses ... got me), I could kiss her (she was pregnant at the time). I stopped after that.
In sixth grade, we got a new student. Her name was Carol Oh. And being sixth graders, there was a lot of smart alek comments being made about her name. And Jennifer Hanna, came along and told her not to worry, that it'll get old. Me, being one of the smart alek's, made sure to remind her of the ribbing she constantly got about her name, in regard to the cartoons made by Hanna-Barbera. (Sorry, Jen.)
The naiveness of being young and sheltered that showed when the first Mexican students joined the school. Jose Guerra was his name, if my memory is holding up well, and the amount of teasing (very racist when you look back on it) that he had to deal with ... It was a lot.
And we also watched as more and more, the school became a melting pot, as children from the Middle East and Asia moved in to the neighborhood. And what's sorta weird as I look back on it, despite her parents very traditional Indian ways (they lived up the street from us), I don't think Shalini Patel was ever treated differently than anyone else. I'm probably wrong, but I hope not.
Mrs. Liles catching on that my parents pulled a fast one on her when reading my state report. We were supposed to do a state we had never been to and knew nothing about. I was out sick the day the states were assigned, and my mom worked and worked and got her to give me Utah ... where we tended to go on our summer vacations to visit family, and the previous summer had gone to visit the national parks. About 20 Utah shaped pages in was a note that said something to the effect of "Boy, I wish I could have gone there."
Speaking of Mrs. Liles, she had problems managing her blood sugar, and so every morning, we had a snack time in her class. Something healthy to eat, since she had to as well. That, and the fact that she let us bring in our handheld electronic games on rain days, made her a favorite at the school.
Adam Dove was the king of Halloween costumes. He and his parents went all out every year with just amazing get ups. In sixth grade, I though we had him. We went out and got all the clothes, and my dad made a foam hammer, so I could be Mario, from Super Mario Bros. (My brother that year was a Pac-Man ghost.) But it was not to be, as Adam showed up in a costume as a dragon (complete with smoke coming from the nostrils if I remember right). Such are the things we worry about in school.
-----
It's funny, all these memories. The thing is, my parents are still in contact with some of my classmates' parents. They tell me about running into so-and-so's mom at the store and I get to hear about how that person is doing.
Before Russ Tamblyn's parents moved, there were a couple of events that we stopped by at and there were more. Everyone still remembers volunteering for the PTA, in classrooms and on the youth sports fields. They remember the parties we'd have for Halloween and Valentine's Day (ones that a lot of kids today don't get).
Anyway, it's been a fun trip down memory lane. I know I have a trove of things I want to write (embarass others) about high school (in honor of said 20th reunion). I'll get to them soon.
Most recently for me, it was two things. Earlier Monday, I read another one of those Facebook survey notes. And as the day went on, a story came across my desk about the first day of school for year-round students in Riverside County. And poof, it happened.
I rattled off, in my head, my seven teachers from elementary school. Kindergarten through sixth grade. All of them. I was so amazed, that I went ahead and posted the names in my Facebook status.
Seven women who shaped my life, all in certain ways: Mrs. Michael, Mrs. Hershey, Mrs. Helms, Mrs. Morris, Mrs. Freitag, Mrs. Liles and Ms. Young.
But it wasn't just the teachers, there were other things that came back. Some funny, some embarrassing, some just weird.
Maybe it's the upcoming 20th high school reunion that has jarred some of these loose. Or maybe it's just that I'm actually taking a vacation. But anyway, here's some of the things that jarred loose.
And we also watched as more and more, the school became a melting pot, as children from the Middle East and Asia moved in to the neighborhood. And what's sorta weird as I look back on it, despite her parents very traditional Indian ways (they lived up the street from us), I don't think Shalini Patel was ever treated differently than anyone else. I'm probably wrong, but I hope not.
-----
It's funny, all these memories. The thing is, my parents are still in contact with some of my classmates' parents. They tell me about running into so-and-so's mom at the store and I get to hear about how that person is doing.
Before Russ Tamblyn's parents moved, there were a couple of events that we stopped by at and there were more. Everyone still remembers volunteering for the PTA, in classrooms and on the youth sports fields. They remember the parties we'd have for Halloween and Valentine's Day (ones that a lot of kids today don't get).
Anyway, it's been a fun trip down memory lane. I know I have a trove of things I want to write (embarass others) about high school (in honor of said 20th reunion). I'll get to them soon.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Wednesday's Random Thoughts
Yeah, yeah. Two days late and all that (I actually started writing this Tuesday morning). But we all need our rest (and time with our kids).
OLE, OLE, OH NO: We soccer fans in the US were treated to the most euphoric 45 minutes of our lives. Up 2-0 on Brazil?!? And it wasn't a fluke? And no goals from the penalty spot? Wow.
But in the back of all our minds had to be the reality: It was Brazil, and they weren't going to go down without a fight. And sure enough, before we got comfortable for the second half, Brazil cut the lead in half. And by the time the full time was over, the 2-0 lead had turned into a 3-2 loss.
And as disappointing as the loss was, it was good to see the reaction of the team afterward. After a week of being questioned about their resolve and their competitive nature, there was genuine disappointment on the face of the players. No satisfaction at earning US Soccer's first silver medal at a FIFA competition.
Landon Donovan's comment afterward, about the team being beyond wanting respect, "we want to win," was perfect. This is a team that knows that if they're ever going to be respected around the world (and even at home), they're going to neeed to win, and win on the world stage.
You could see the team running out of gas. It was dump and regroup. Dump and regroup. And that's including the getting the break of the no goal call in the second half, with Tim Howard making the save on what replays showed was a goal.
But there were a couple of other things that jumped out at me afterward.
First, why wait so long for the first substitue? You see the guys gassed like that, maybe you get some fresh legs in a little sooner. I realize that the options for Bob Bradley were limited, especially with his son suspended for a red card, but a set of fresh legs couldn't have hurt.
Second, where was the extra defender on the back post. Even with every Brazilian marked, why isn't one more person back on that post? How many goals have been stopped with that extra body there?
All in all, a silver medal isn't anything to hang your head about, especially after the way the team played the first two games of the tournament. Now the key is to build on it. Hopefully with a strong showing in Mexico.
SHOW ME THE MONEY: The trip is rapidly approaching, and I think we're pretty much ready. Except for one small, tiny detail.
Passports.
For Luc and I, specifically.
We applied for them as soon as we decided to make the trip (and had the money in hand to pay for it). That was four weeks ago. And because of the new law, they say it's taking four-to-six weeks to process.
So, I've been actively checking online for status updates on our passports. You go and check, and the best update you can get is that it's "being processed." And what does that mean, exactly? No one seems to know.
It says on the site that if you're traveling within two weeks, call in and check further, because they will be able to "update you on the status of your application."
So I make the call. The answer I get: "It's being processed." Ohhhhhkaaayyy...
I start asking for more. The answer is the same. Until I get the pitch, "Well, you can apply for it to be expidited."
Sigh. I turn them down Friday, and call again Monday.
I actually get a competent person on the phone this time. We go through the same details. And the answer is the same. Finally, I break down and ask, what does "In Process" mean?
The woman on the other end is sympathetic enough to tell me the truth: "That's all they tell us. We don't know any more about it than it's in process."
Government beauracracy at its best.
At this point, we're less than 10 days (less by the time you read this) and I go ahead and pay to have it expidited. At another $60 per passport. Oh, and I turn down the extra $15 it would have cost for them to FedEx overnight it.
Mind you, this expidited service still doesn't guarantee that it'll arrive before next week's deadline for our trip. If it's not here, we have to go to the federal building in LA (or San Francisco, those are the two closest) to get it.
Meanwhile, Gina's new replacement passport (she's had one previously) was turned around in two weeks. So it's not like it takes six weeks to cut out the photo, laminating the photo in, print out the book and send it out.
My sympathetic operator said that they need to call different agencies and check on information. So, I give them a bit of a pass on trying to track down my stuff. I'm 39 years old and have never had a passport. Maybe it's taking a little longer to check on these things.
But my 2-year-old? What's taking them so long? Does he have a long criminal history? The woman on the other end cracked up. I think she understood the frustration and humor in the situation.
So, I sit and wait. Dreading the idea of having to go to LA with a 2-year-old. The day before we are supposed to get on a plane for Costa Rica. Oh, and I'll probably have to go to OC along the way and pick up NEW copies of our birth certificates (at $17 apiece), since the passport agency currently has ours.
So, word to the wise. If you don't have a passport, do it now. Scrape up the $100 ($75 for the passport, another $25 for the post office or other person processing it) and get it done long before you'll ever need it. Especially now that you need it to go back and forth into Mexico and Canada.
OK, I'm done bitching. Will try to get some more up the rest of the week.
OLE, OLE, OH NO: We soccer fans in the US were treated to the most euphoric 45 minutes of our lives. Up 2-0 on Brazil?!? And it wasn't a fluke? And no goals from the penalty spot? Wow.
But in the back of all our minds had to be the reality: It was Brazil, and they weren't going to go down without a fight. And sure enough, before we got comfortable for the second half, Brazil cut the lead in half. And by the time the full time was over, the 2-0 lead had turned into a 3-2 loss.
And as disappointing as the loss was, it was good to see the reaction of the team afterward. After a week of being questioned about their resolve and their competitive nature, there was genuine disappointment on the face of the players. No satisfaction at earning US Soccer's first silver medal at a FIFA competition.
Landon Donovan's comment afterward, about the team being beyond wanting respect, "we want to win," was perfect. This is a team that knows that if they're ever going to be respected around the world (and even at home), they're going to neeed to win, and win on the world stage.
You could see the team running out of gas. It was dump and regroup. Dump and regroup. And that's including the getting the break of the no goal call in the second half, with Tim Howard making the save on what replays showed was a goal.
But there were a couple of other things that jumped out at me afterward.
First, why wait so long for the first substitue? You see the guys gassed like that, maybe you get some fresh legs in a little sooner. I realize that the options for Bob Bradley were limited, especially with his son suspended for a red card, but a set of fresh legs couldn't have hurt.
Second, where was the extra defender on the back post. Even with every Brazilian marked, why isn't one more person back on that post? How many goals have been stopped with that extra body there?
All in all, a silver medal isn't anything to hang your head about, especially after the way the team played the first two games of the tournament. Now the key is to build on it. Hopefully with a strong showing in Mexico.
SHOW ME THE MONEY: The trip is rapidly approaching, and I think we're pretty much ready. Except for one small, tiny detail.
Passports.
For Luc and I, specifically.
We applied for them as soon as we decided to make the trip (and had the money in hand to pay for it). That was four weeks ago. And because of the new law, they say it's taking four-to-six weeks to process.
So, I've been actively checking online for status updates on our passports. You go and check, and the best update you can get is that it's "being processed." And what does that mean, exactly? No one seems to know.
It says on the site that if you're traveling within two weeks, call in and check further, because they will be able to "update you on the status of your application."
So I make the call. The answer I get: "It's being processed." Ohhhhhkaaayyy...
I start asking for more. The answer is the same. Until I get the pitch, "Well, you can apply for it to be expidited."
Sigh. I turn them down Friday, and call again Monday.
I actually get a competent person on the phone this time. We go through the same details. And the answer is the same. Finally, I break down and ask, what does "In Process" mean?
The woman on the other end is sympathetic enough to tell me the truth: "That's all they tell us. We don't know any more about it than it's in process."
Government beauracracy at its best.
At this point, we're less than 10 days (less by the time you read this) and I go ahead and pay to have it expidited. At another $60 per passport. Oh, and I turn down the extra $15 it would have cost for them to FedEx overnight it.
Mind you, this expidited service still doesn't guarantee that it'll arrive before next week's deadline for our trip. If it's not here, we have to go to the federal building in LA (or San Francisco, those are the two closest) to get it.
Meanwhile, Gina's new replacement passport (she's had one previously) was turned around in two weeks. So it's not like it takes six weeks to cut out the photo, laminating the photo in, print out the book and send it out.
My sympathetic operator said that they need to call different agencies and check on information. So, I give them a bit of a pass on trying to track down my stuff. I'm 39 years old and have never had a passport. Maybe it's taking a little longer to check on these things.
But my 2-year-old? What's taking them so long? Does he have a long criminal history? The woman on the other end cracked up. I think she understood the frustration and humor in the situation.
So, I sit and wait. Dreading the idea of having to go to LA with a 2-year-old. The day before we are supposed to get on a plane for Costa Rica. Oh, and I'll probably have to go to OC along the way and pick up NEW copies of our birth certificates (at $17 apiece), since the passport agency currently has ours.
So, word to the wise. If you don't have a passport, do it now. Scrape up the $100 ($75 for the passport, another $25 for the post office or other person processing it) and get it done long before you'll ever need it. Especially now that you need it to go back and forth into Mexico and Canada.
OK, I'm done bitching. Will try to get some more up the rest of the week.
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