Friends in Low Places

Sometimes I toss Char a joke, and she runs with it to parts unknown. Here's an example.

We went shopping on Saturday, and the back of Daphne's car was filling up with all the super-sized items we bought at Costco. To make room, I took the package of 30 toilet paper rolls and placed it in the seat next to Char. I told her, "On the way home you get to sit next to Toilet Paper Man!"

She smiled and giggled. Then Char started talking about Toilet Paper Man. All the way home she told us about the things he likes to do: shop at the store, run at the park, play at the zoo, and he especially likes to get his haircut. She created a voice for him, and had him answer her questions.

"Am I your new friend Toilet Paper Man?" she asked the plastic wrap.
"Yes Charlotte," Char lowered her voice and shook the bag with her hand, "You are my best friend!"

After a 20-minute drive, I thought Char would be tired of Toilet Paper Man, but as soon as we brought him in, she wanted to start working on his haircut. I had no clue what she meant.

She first requested colored paper, which she cut into strips. "I loooove to cut paper!" Char sang as she worked the scissors. Char then asked if would I help her tape the strips onto Toilet Paper Man's head. "Don't forget the sides," she crooned.

Soon it was time for his haircut.

"Doesn't he look good?"

Char gave Toilet Paper Man a face, and then slicked him up with some stickers. Later in the evening she brought him down into the basement. She didn't want him to miss "movie night" with the family. He even has his own chair.

 Has a package of toilet paper ever been so loved? I doubt it. I think that smile is actually real.  

When we walked upstairs to put Char to bed, I thought I heard Toilet Paper Man whisper in the dark, "Thank you, Charlotte... I never thought I'd find a friend."

Our Oceanside Vacation: Wrap-Up

I was dreading falling asleep on our last night in California. I knew that in the morning I would have to admit defeat and surrender my vacation to the calendar's truth. Instead of relaxing, I stewed in the plush depths of the bed's blankets while the insolent waves outside repeatedly slapped the sand and then slid back in retreat.

I was angry with the ocean because I knew I was going to miss it. Even the largest lake in the Midwest would be embarrassed by a comparison. But what else?  I wouldn't miss the California traffic. I'm not used to a 30 mile drive taking an hour. And a half. We ate some great food in California, but Des Moines can deliver that as well. We met some nice people, but I live in Iowa, you can't throw a stick here without hitting a nice person. So why was I so reluctant to go home?

Astronaut Marsha Ivins said in a narrative written for Wired magazine, "... on Earth, you're almost never out of touch. Anyone can reach you if they need to. But going to space, you are really out of reach... there's not much you can do about those everyday worries: Did I pay the bills? Did I feed the dog? I felt like everyday things just stopped at the edge of the atmosphere."

That's what I was going to miss. In California I was on the carefree side of the "edge of the atmosphere".

One edge of the atmosphere was the threshold of our rented condo. Inside, I could leave a slice of uneaten toast on the kitchen counter and a thieving cat wouldn't make it disappear. If I left the front door open for more than a few seconds I wouldn't be chasing our dog Maggie out of the street. The answering machine's red light never blinked, and the mailbox was always empty.

Another edge of the atmosphere was where the ocean met the beach. Once there, I could stop sucking in my stomach. I'm not famous, popular, or even well liked. But after 23 years of teaching high school, I've had about 3,500 students in my classrooms. Add to that number those students' parents, siblings, and friends, and the chance of being recognized at the local pool expands like my waistline. So, it was a relief to walk around with my less than stellar beach body without hearing someone whisper, "Wow. Monson is even fatter than I thought he was."

Anonymity can free your soul. Or at least your ab muscles.

So, it wasn't California that I was going to miss. I was going to miss the escape from of my everyday realities. But we all know vacations can't last forever. Even astronauts have to come down sometime. Marsha Ivins also wrote, "I was totally liberated from Earth. But all those earthly concerns reattached as soon as we reentered. By the time I landed, my brain was mapping out a to-do list."

On the morning of our departure, I was mildly depressed. At the end of that Iowan runway there would be a lawn to mow, cat boxes to clean, and work clothes to wear. School would resume, and instead of being a figure on a beach, I'd be teaching figures of speech. Heavy sigh.

Then I remembered a brief encounter by the Oceanside Pier.

While watching Charlotte make sandcastles, I spotted a young couple leisurely walking past. The husband's infant carrier was holding their baby daughter, and the mother was wearing a University of Iowa t-shirt. For fun I shouted at them, "Go Hawks!" but they kept walking. Moments later they paused, and the woman looked at her husband quizzically. He made a gesture towards her shirt. She turned towards us, shielded her eyes with a hand, and asked, "Are you from Iowa?"

I said yes, and I asked if they were, too. As they approached she shook her head and said, "I was born in Iowa, but my parents moved here when I was six. But my grandparents still live near Dubuque. I've been back to their farm a few times, but..." she confided, "I, I, really miss Iowa." She gave her husband a sideways glance. We chatted for a few more moments and then parted ways.

When they were out of earshot, Daphne looked at me, spread out her arms towards the ocean, and joked, "How could anyone stand here and say they miss Iowa?" At that moment, if you were to look down into the wet sand, you would see the sunlight reflected in thousands of tiny, golden mirrors.

I took the question seriously. On the flight home I thought about what I'd miss if we stayed in California. Family. Our Church. Tasty Tacos. Bare feet in the backyard grass. Autumn's falling leaves. The smell of the brisk air on a Football Friday night. Corn fields. Iowa chops. The first snow. Sledding. A February supper of crock pot chili. Our dog's smile. Friends from work. Winter's thaw. Casey's pizza... my list, Daphne's list, and Char's list would stretch on and on and on.

When our plane touched down in Des Moines, I was comfortable with my reentry.

Coming home was going to be okay. No, it was better than that. Coming home was great.

(Plus, there's always this: Link)

Days Six and Seven at Oceanside: Just Hangin' Out

With three amusement park visits under our belts, the time had come to take it easy. We didn't have an itinerary for the next two days, except to just hang out.

The condo we rented wasn't exactly beachfront, but you could see the sand from the balcony, and the walk to the beach was about 30 yards. Not bad. Although easy access to the beach was great, the open windows at night allowed the waves to lull you asleep. They should publish that sound next to the word "relaxing" in the dictionary.

We did touristy things like cruise the beach on a rented bike. We discovered that these bikes are geared very low, and you have to do a lot of pedaling just to get the bike to move. After an hour I was more than ready to get out of that thing. Char rode up front and had a blast telling us where to go.

I watched an excited couple put their two small kids on the same bike, and when they cruised by us a half hour later the mom was already tired, and she looked really uncomfortable. I feel your pain, lady.

Oceanside's beach features a pier that's 1,954 feet long (about six and a half football fields). I assume the names craved in the wood railings represent people who have donated to the rebuilding of the pier (it's been destroyed by storms six times). We found more than one donor who shared a name with Char.

Ruby's Diner is located at end of the pier, and the shakes they sell are pretty good.

The only food goal I had was to hit an In-N-Out. We don't have that restaurant in Iowa, and Consumer Reports ranks their fast food burgers second best in the nation.

Maybe this is weird, but the burgers reminded me of the plastic fish in our "Let's Go Fishin'" game.

Anytime a Bible verse is listed on a consumer product, I'm interested.

If you're also curious, Revelation 3:20 is, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me."

The burgers were great, but I prefer our local B-Bop's. Char also gave their hats a positive review. 

On Sunday night we walked the beach in pursuit of a pizza dinner. We found it at ZigZag Pizza Pie.

I visited the bathroom while we waited for our pies, and Char had the idea to snap a couple of pictures to surprise Dad.

First they took a selfie.

And then Charlotte took a random picture of her bottle of apple juice. She though I would find that funny. She was right.

She's sooo my kid.

I stopped to take some pictures of the beach while we walked back home for the last time. Here are a few of those shots.

When we got back Char spent some time studying the shells she had collected from the beach, and then it was time for reading stories and going to bed.

We left the condo at 6:30 am the next morning, and our plane landed in Des Moines after the Iowan night had fallen. We were tired, but we were home.

Mom and Dad Aren't the Only Ones Going to School This Year...

Kindergarten, here we come!

Which Way Should We Go?

I thought this restroom sign at Legoland was funny.

But this sign posted near the Oceanside Pier was unintentionally funnier.

Day Five at Oceanside: Legoland

If Sea World was all about the marine shows, and Disneyland was all about the exciting rides, then what did Legoland have going for it? 

I'm still not sure. Legoland offers activities that I didn't understand, and others that you could do somewhere else for free.

For instance, we were in the park before it "officially" opened, and although the "Safari Trek" ride was the closest ride to the front gate, we waited in line for an hour to get in a car. (Disneyland rides are much more efficient.)

I was hoping the wait was equal to the ride, but that wasn't true. Lego sculptures are impressive at first, but once you become accustom to the attention to detail the "wow" factor wears off pretty quickly. The blocky sculptures begin to look pixetlated, and you wonder if you shouldn't be cleaning your eyeglasses. I was on "Safari Trek" for only 30 seconds before I started to wonder why I was there. I don't really like zoos, but wouldn't looking at actual animals be preferable to looking at plastic ones?

Honestly, the real bird perched on the Lego one is more interesting.

Like your local park, Legoland has lots of fun playgrounds.

And like your basement, Legoland has Legos you can play with.

It's true, nowhere else in the world can your daughter do a spider dance in front of a huge Lego spider, but I'm at a loss why that even happened.

Again, where else can you see a working Lego model of the Death Star or stand next to a Lego Darth Vader and make mean faces?

I assume nowhere, but would you pay almost $300 dollars for the opportunity? For our family, I'm guessing we wouldn't again. But that's just us. We won't judge you if Legoland is your thing.

At least you could dress up in the gift shop for free:

You just have to make sure you return the props to the right bins.

Day Four at Oceanside: Market to Market

It's no secret that vacations can be exhausting. So on Thursday we rested. Charlotte got to sleep in as much as she wanted, and we all had a light breakfast of toast, fruit, and yogurt when she woke up.

After getting cleaned up, we walked to downtown Oceanside to check out the morning's Farmers' Market.

The market ran up one street, and the crowd wasn't too big.

Daphne bought a couple of dresses, and Char got a huge cookie.

I was looking for meat products, but since this was California, my choices seemed limited.

In retrospect I should have at least tried the mushroom jerky, but my inner Iowa Boy just wouldn't let me.

For lunch we drove over to Carlsbad and stopped at Senior Grubby's for a photo op and some grub.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at the beach, but as I said, I left our camera at home. Around 5 we left the sand to wash it off our ourselves, and then we walked downtown again to see the Sunset Market. This market was an entirely different animal. The Sunset Market was all about food. Spanning an X of city streets, there were easily over 50 vendors, and the streets were packed.

This time finding meat was no problem.

The people at LA Gourmet Sausages did a great job of artistically dressing my first meal.

While I was scarfing down my sausage, Charlotte spotted a "balloon artist". Dang! I hate those guys. But Daphne wanted Char to have fun, so she volunteered to stand in line while I brought her food stuff. The first stand I spotted was selling the "Best Fries!" in Oceanside, so I bought our trooper some. Daphne loves fries, and buying these for her made me feel less guilty about not standing in line for a stupid balloon.

The "balloon artist" claimed he could make Disney characters, so I was a bit apprehensive when Char asked for Ariel. But I have to admit, the guy delivered.

More than once a passerby remarked to Charlotte, "That's the coolest balloon I have ever seen!" Each time Char swelled with pride.

Even the Star Wars characters nodded their approval!

(Not really. I just needed a way to weave these guys into this narrative.)

After some mango juice,

and some time spent listening to the live band,

it was time to walk the beach on our way back home and get ready for tomorrow. 

Legoland, here we come! 

sigh.