Did you know that in 2006 almost 39 million people visited Las Vegas?!!! Sweet lamprey of Santa Fe! That particular statistic I was not aware of! That is more than the 2006 population of California!
"It's huge! It's enormous! It's gigantic! I mean, they said it was big, but I didn't expect it to be BIG!" -Chris McConnell, Roxanne
Well, I certainly hope the fine bean counters of Sin City do not count my delivery of Soraya and Brandon as a visit to The Meadows (How's that for two names other than Las Vegas?) One thing I am most certain of, is I will never move back to Las Vegas. Not that an airport is a bastion of proper etiquette, but the image to the left says it all. Get your cocktails and sit your bum down at the slots!
Whenever I escort the kids to Las Vegas, as soon as they are gone, I get itchy. I am ready, ready to get back on a plane and get my pointy behind out of there. This mission was no different. Below is a little pictorial of yesterday evenings activities...
With your cocktails you can get dinner too! Just the thing after running through the airport from one flight to another!
Yeah, we're being herded like cattle. However, I still like Southwest Airlines...really, I do! The line ups do have a tendency to get a little, uh, tense. I love the travelers who leave their luggage unattended in line as a marker of their place. Hello airport security?...There's a suspicious looking, unattended bag here...*grins*
Cool! My favorite spot, the window. Now I can lean away if some big gigantic smelly guy sits next to me. This time I was lucky, seated next to me was a smaller, attractive, uh, I mean graying tiny senior. Right Andrea? She kept looking suspiciously at me as my cell phone clicked off pictures. Ahhh...the proper traveling companions... Yeah, it was hot in Las Vegas! Over 100 degrees when we landed! YIKES!!! I watched this poor guy outside of my window loading the luggage all by himself. Can someone get him some water? For me, this is the worst part of flying, the stand and wait at the end of the flight. Especially, when it's a return flight. I'm done, toast, I just want to get in my car and get home. Geez people, let's have a purpose! Chop! Chop!
"Look, I'm sorry your life turned out so bad. But don't blame me! You messed it up yourself. You just focused on the bad stuff when all you had to do was... let go of the past and keep moving forward..." - Lewis "Hmm, let's see... take responsibility for my own life or blame you? Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding! Blame you wins hands down!" - Bowler Hat Guy
So my tastes in films at times can be a little, how would one say?...er...immature. That's why one of my all time favorite movies is Finding Nemo. And that's why today, along with a little sadness, I am posting about Meet The Robinsons.
Actually, it's also because today is the day I fly the Soraya and Brandon to Las Vegas for their summer visit with their father. Because of some unexpected planning snafus they will be gone for eight weeks...EIGHT WEEKS!!! Yeah, yeah...you can try to put the positive spin on this by saying it will give Andrea and I grown up time, more cycling, able to watch R-rated DVD's during the day, etc....none the less...I am blue...indigo...deeply blue...
I an a big, HUGE, GARGANTUAN, believer in kids. I think kids rule! Kids are awesome and I love the fact that I have the privilege to corrupt...uh...I mean guide...Soraya and Brandon.
It's the reason why I loved Meet The Robinsons, that the film was about an orphaned boy, Lewis, trying to find his mother and his quest to have a true family. I think that is also why I loved Nemo so much, I have a soft spot for kids and their longings for families. Both films are about what parents will do for their kids and children's need for love.
That's all I have ever wanted for Soraya and Brandon. Sure I want them to have a good life, for them to grow into adults and have happy lives, but at the core, I want them to feel loved. I want them to know that whatever happens, I have their backs.
Meet The Robinsons is the first computer graphics animated film not made by Pixar that I truly loved. Okay one could argue that it was a Disney film and Disney now owns Pixar, but this piece of celluloid was not made in Emeryville...so there! Someone at Disney figured out that what makes Pixar films so good is not the animation, but the story and to actually make characters that one could care about.
Go see Meet The Robinsons (or rent the DVD)...it will make you chuckle...not all films need to have deep meaning...
Soraya and Brandon...have fun in Las Vegas. Be safe. It's okay to love your father. I will miss you guys fiercely...
Well, so much for another school year. It seems like every year goes by faster and faster. A friend of a friend, Ron, once gave me this advice:
Life is like a roll of toilet paper. It goes faster as it goes along...
Thankfully it wasn't about my life being related to someone's butt. But that is another story.
With the end of the year, it's time to retire the current year's back packs. It's time to empty the contents and decide what are heirlooms and memories and what are destined for the garbage can. One of the most curious to come out of all of this is Soraya's anti-drug bookmark.
Soraya has always been the little artist of the kids. In her class they were all to make bookmarks warning against the evils of drug usage. From there, the students (and teacher, I suppose) would decide which bookmark would be copied, laminated and made into a grade-wide book mark. Guess whose won? This is the second contest of such nature for Soraya to win. In an earlier grade her drawing of a jellyfish was used for the class' field trip tee shirts.
Now, I am proud of her accomplishment(s), yet I am amazed (concerned) at the detail that went into this bookmark. The little skulls that frame the mark, the single light shining down, what does it all mean? What is going on in my little girl's head? (On a funny note, when the kids were younger they saw a billboard for Longs Drugs and they became very concerned that a business was selling drugs...) Why does the skull and cross bones sort of look like a demented lamb?
Another interesting item of note is that the "drugs" appear to be a bottle of vino...hmmm, again, what does that mean? Okay, all my wine loving friends, Soraya's watching you!
Maybe I'm reading too much into it. I had a long discussion with Shawn at the Police concert about the complexities of growing up these days. My job, with no formal training, is to help guide the kids to what is right, yet give them the freedom to find that path on their own. Am I up to it? Who knows...I guess we'll see...
First and foremost I must thank Shawn for taking me to see the Police. That was an incredibly kind act as he left his lovely wife, Micheline, at home to take his mangy friend Neil to the concert.
THANK YOU SHAWN!
So things have changed since I had last attended an arena-type concert. Couscous and Jäger-Bombs were served along side some sandwiches made with fresh baked bread and home made, non-laced with anything illegal, chocolate cookies. So much for the raiding the folk's liquor cabinet and combining tiny portions into a toxic poison. Not to mention that The Police were presented by Best Buy! Once again the Man keeping us down...
Yes, the Police were in fine form, however, I was a little concerned after their first few song attempts. They seemed to be a little off and I thought to myself, "Uh-oh...those years apart are starting to show..." However, once the geezers started to get going, they were great. I am always amazed that in such a large venue that the sound is actually quite good, all things considered.
This looks much worse than it actually was! Retro-80's over the top light show...COOL!
Shawn asked me what my favorite all-time concerts were. I took a moment to pause before answering and I realized that most of my fondest concert memories were not because of the performers, but because of the person or people I attended it with. In no particular order:
Eric Johnson (with a special appearance by a very, VERY, drunken Slash, then of Guns N Roses) with Shawn at The Joint at the Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas.
The Outfield with Shawn at The House Of Blues in Las Vegas.
Bruce Springsteen at the Shoreline Amphitheater with Joe. Springsteen fans are very loyal!
Incognito with Shawn (okay...we're sort of the musicians of the group of friends, so...) at Bimbos
Interpol at the Fillmore with Andrea (my absolute fave as this was Andrea's first concert!...I really do feel privileged!) It was sooo cool to see the excitement in her eyes as Interpol took the stage.
What was very cool was that The Police performed with no back up musicians. There were no keyboard players, no horns, no back up singers. One could hear every instrument being played and every mistake made. Hey, that's the joy of a live performance...it's not perfect!
There is a moment in the film The Wall where the singer Pink envisions himself as a Hitler-esque type figure as his fans cheered for him. That image popped into my head as the entire coliseum echoed what Sting was singing. At times it was very eerie. Yet, how thrilling it must be to have 60,000 people chanting words that you wrote...
Some of my favorite Police lyrics:
I will turn your face to alabaster, when you find your servant is your master...
Your brother's gonna kill me and he's six feet ten...
De-doo-doo-doo, de-da-da-da...
So overall, this was definitely one of my fave concerts...
The bad news. ..
The bad thing about large, humongous venues such as the McAfee Coliseum is the leaving part. As the crowd shuffled its way out of their seats I felt like we were a herd of cattle being led to the slaughter. Hmmm...
Unfortunately, my view from the parking lot for about half an hour...
The concert was very cool, so thank you again Shawn. It's just at 10:30 p.m., I was ready to go and get home. Unfortunately, anytime one attends something at the Coliseum by car, the end is not the end. However, the Police were awesome and I cannot thank Shawn enough!
My thoughts are all over the place currently, so bear with me...
How cool was it that one of my teenage favorite bands, Journey, played such an integral part of the final scene of the Sopranos? "Some will win, some will lose, some were born to sing the blues...oh the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on..." Thank you Tony Soprano for putting your coins in the jukebox and picking that tune! The last voice we heard was that of Steven Perry's singing, "Don't stop!..."
Score one for Neil and his cheesy music!
My friend Shawn invited me to go see the Police. You know, "de-doo-doo-doo, de-da-da-da, is all I want to say to you." Somehow the idea of seeing guys who should be soon seeing social security checks in their mail rocking out is unsettling. But I am excited none the less...
Were these guys cool before their golden years?
When growing up I would always grumble when washing the dishes at my parents' house. As my parents grew up in the Depression Era and also were interned, they were and are extremely frugal. They would have us recycle the plastic produce bags by washing them out and then hanging the bags to dry in the garage. On occasion, being the bratty kid I was, I would "accidentally" put a hole in one while washing it, therefore it was useless to continue washing the bag.
Another thing that used to annoy me was my father's regimented way of putting the dishes in the dishwasher. He would chastise me when I would put my dirty dishes in incorrectly. Dude...it's a dishwasher, does it really matter?...
So what does matter to the present?...
Instance number one. I put a bunch of presliced watermelon in a gallon zip lock bag. When I removed the last wedge from the bag, I had a great idea. If I washed it out, I could use it to store tools, or toys or something. Hey...this sounds vaguely familiar?!
Instance number two. I opened our dishwasher this morning to load a couple more bowls into it. I noticed with a bit of annoyance that Andrea had loaded it "incorrectly". Now who makes the official rules in dishwasher loading is beyond me...however, in my tiny flea-like brain, that person would be me. Grumbling I rearranged the dishes "appropriately". Wait a second, where have I heard that before?!
Now THAT'S a good looking load!
Egads...I'm becoming my father. Although in many ways that is a good thing. However, all those annoying things that I used to dread, I AM NOW DOING! What the on Earth? I guess the fruit indeed does not fall far from the tree!
There are times when I need to remind myself what is important in life. That although my job, my career, provides a good income, my sole purpose is not just working. I come home from the store, usually mentally and emotionally drained. I need my fifteen minutes of decompression when I get home.
I am usually bombarded with requests from the kids as soon as I enter the door. "Neil can I get something to drink please?" "Neil, do you want to go on a walk?" "Neil can you help me with my homework?" Andrea will try to fight valiantly, yet vainly, against the surge of requests. I usually smile feeling like a drowning man gasping for his last breath as I head to the bedroom, loosening my necktie.
But I need to remind myself. These are some of the best years. I am the smartest, the fastest, the strongest, the bravest man to them. I can solve any problem. I can beat up any bad guy.
With that thought, Brandon and I headed out the door after dinner to the park. Soraya had chosen not to accompany us as she was holed up in her room. Puberty, although a subject for a later post, will be a long bumpy road for our little girl.
As we walked, ran, jumped and skipped our way to the park I felt rejuvenated. How can a little boy, only eight-years old, give me so much strength, yet at times sap me of every ounce of energy left in me? The boy of a million questions. We shoved each other playfully, we raced, he won.
I watched him run around the play structure oblivious to anything but the play at hand. The sun slowly sank as we both hung from the monkey bars. As twilight lingered and the stars began to appear, I gave Brandon the bad news that it was time to go home. I was greeted with the usual, "Awww, five minutes more...please?" Yeah, I could give him five as we ran around the jungle gym one last time.
These are definitely some of the best days of my life...
It a well established fact that I love my morning coffee. It doesn't matter how hot the day will be, I need my java in the a.m.! I take a travel cup with me every day I make my way over Highway 17, through the Santa Cruz Mountains. No, I don't get a lot of sipping between the curves of the road, but it's comforting to know it's there when I want it.
My day started as usual. Make coffee, turn on computer, drink coffee, get kids up, get Neil out the door. Blah, blah, blah. Just the usual work morning.
After getting dressed I poured my travel coffee into my silver thermal mug. Yep, almost ready to go. Straighten my tie, pull my lunch out of the refrigerator (yep, still doing that!), tie my shoes, the usual stuff. Walked out to my car to get yesterday's cup. Grabbed the red cup, a present from my kids, and walked back in. Said goodbye to everyone, reached for my cup of joe and out the door I raced.
It was in the 50's this morning and the mug of coffee sitting in the Xterra's cup holder looked mighty tasty. As the trees zoomed by, I hit a straight patch of highway. Cool!...I can take a sip of coffee. I grabbed the cool exterior of the red thermal mug and lifted it to my lips. Tipping the mug I took my first morning travel sip.
What the?!!! It's ice cold?!!! Wait a second...red thermal mug?!!!
In my haste to get on the road I had mistakenly grabbed the mug that had been sitting in my car for two days. Now, I'm one of those psychotic coffee drinkers who can drink day-old coffee. Maybe it's not at it's peak in flavor after sitting around for eight hours, but it's still Juan Valdez's best. But two days?! Even I have my limits. And it was cold, ice-cold.
My work day was getting off to a miserable start. Lesson learned take special attention that I am grabbing the correct mug. Caffeine levels at a dangerous low.
Well, I certainly hope the fine bean counters of Sin City do not count my delivery of Soraya and Brandon as a visit to The Meadows (How's that for two names other than Las Vegas?) One thing I am most certain of, is I will never move back to Las Vegas. Not that an airport is a bastion of proper etiquette, but the image to the left says it all. Get your cocktails and sit your bum down at the slots!
