We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch – we are going back from whence we came.
Going to San Diego reminded me how much I missed living on Long Island and having easy access to the ocean and the lifestlye surrounding it. It was both a big part of my upbringing and a big part of the lives of almost every member of my extended family and ancestors. It’s funny how we change over time, we morph into an amalgamation of what we want to be and what the environment we live in asks us to be. No matter how far we go, or how much we change, it doesn’t take much to put us right back where we started. Suddenly I want to quit my job and go run a charter boat, and fish for a living (my father would kill me to hear that). I over heard a ferry boat captain who said to someone else, “if I had it to do over, and I was young and fancy free, with all that’s going on here, I would pack up and move here in a heartbeat.”
Regarding the weather, I still believe San Diego is the closest thing to paradise on earth, even if a 600 squarefoot house that needs work costs 1.2 million (won’t be buying a place there anytime soon). I prefer Pacific Beach, Mission Beach, and La Jolla to Coronado Island though. Coronado was nice, but it felt kinda old family/retiree touristy, the boardwalk was limited by naval bases on both sides, and car travel required going over the bridge to get to and fro.
I didn’t even turn on my cell for 7 days (turns out no one called me anyway, not sure what that means), barely looked at email or the Internet, and spent most of my time outside. The kids had a great time being on the beach every day. Our days also involved roller blades, surfboards, boogie boards, science museum, parks, and the zoo.
As it stands I’m done flying across the country for at least 6 months…
Who decided that the arm rest should only be wide enough for a ballpoint pen to rest on. There’s already not enough room for the average american on those seats, why do we have to have a nonverbal territory war for the armrest too? To the guys who had to sit next to me, I’m sorry the airline didn’t make seats wide enough for you to sit in, that’s not my fault. Next time buy two seats if you can’t keep yourself from spilling out into my space. That’s right, I said my space. I paid for this space and just because I’m not using all of it, doesn’t mean you can take liberties. Keep your arms and legs over there in the space you paid for. And if you can’t do that because your shoulders are too broad or your waist is too wide, then damnit, I’m taking the arm rest. Go ahead! lay your arm there on mine. See if I care. I’m not giving it up. Awkward isn’t it? There you go, that’s it, cross your arms and lean forward. Have a nice flight.
Las Vegas air port, slot machines every 10 feet. Slot are like toys for tots. They light up, make noise, attract attention and have levers and buttons to pull and push, but it doesn’t really do anything. Laughed myself silly. The body postures of the people I saw said a lot. One guy sat on the edge of his seat, almost facing the other way, only looked at the machine when he had to. I swear he looked like he didn’t want to be there, but couldn’t help himself.
Oh and when the plane is descending and it’s bumpy, no one likes to hear someone loudly ask, “Are we going down?”, even if it is a six year old who only means down to the airport. “Yes, son we’re going to land now, but lets have a talk about connotations.”