My adventures in Kissimmee ended much more quickly than I anticipated.
While I was on vacation with my parents and brother, I received notice that a position with Kaplan Bar Review had come open in Miami. I applied for it, and I was hired.
I have been living in Miami since July 21, now. The job is going to keep me extremely busy for a while, and I doubt that I will have time to write any blog entries until I become more competent.
My year in Kissimmee was enjoyable and I met some great people, people that I will miss.
I hope that I will be able to write interesting entries about Miami in the future.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Monday, June 18, 2012
My Vacation
While this blog is supposed to be about Kissimmee, it is also about my experiences. This past week, I took a vacation with my parents and my brother.
The vacation was my idea, though they picked where we would go. My parents are getting older- both are past 60 now, and my mom had a health scare last year. It occurred to me that I should take advantage of the chance to spend time with them.
While I was in law school, a cousin of mine suddenly and unexpectedly lost her father. He was a much loved uncle to me as well. So, this past week was very special to me- one of the most cherished times of my life, in fact.
Our days were jammed with activities, and I am recording them here before I forget some of the smaller details. Much of this blog will just be listing where we stayed and ate, as there are too many memories to record. I hope the list will be enough to jog my memory when I read this in the future.
Mom had never flown before. She had also never been west of the Appalachian Mountains. So, for our vacation, our plan was to fly into Las Vegas. There we were to rent a Ford Escape and head to different parts of Nevada, Utah, Arizona and California.
On Saturday, June 9th, I flew from Orlando to Las Vegas. The flight left early in the morning, before 7 am and before the sun came up. After we had taken to the air and passed over most of the country, I got a tremendous view of the Grand Canyon. The shadows cast from the rising sun were spectacular.
Once I landed in Vegas, I proceeded to the baggage claim area where my one big bag was already on the carousel. I then spotted Mom, Dad and my brother waiting for me. Their flight from Raleigh Durham International Airport had come in about half an hour ahead of mine.
Mom was okay with the flight. There was some turbulence that made her a little nervous, but she had a good window seat on the Southwest Airlines plane, and my dad and brother were all able to sit on the same row with her.
In Vegas, once we got the SUV, I took them to the New York, New York casino. We had some hot dogs from the Coney Island restaurant inside.
Then it was north on I-15 into Utah. We stopped in Mesquite, NV to pick up some bottled water and some snacks to carry along. Dad mentioned the green golf course in Mesquite and how he liked seeing green much better than the surrounding brown desert.
I had been out there before- I used to live in Las Vegas, in fact. The landscape was completely new to Mom, though. My brother made the comment that the high desert cliffs, rocks and plateaus reminded him of Western movies he had seen, where gunmen were hiding up there to pick someone off down below.
We passed through the town of St. George and traveled into Zion National Park. Dad laughed at the fence posts along the way and how crooked they were. We speculated that there just weren’t enough trees like back east to provide good wood for straight fence posts, though the fencing along the interstate had metal posts.
The road that leads through Zion is not open to cars this time of year, and we took park shuttles that came along every 10 minutes or so. It was there that I realized how much Mom’s health had changed. She had very little tolerance for the heat, and she did not want to get off the shuttle and walk around and explore.
My brother and I were finally able to convince her to get off at one spot so that he and I could walk down to the Virgin River, which cuts through the cliffs of the park. Mom sat in the shade of a tree while we made our way down with Dad. She said that in years past, walking along a river would have been one of her favorite things to do.
The river was quiet, and the view up was stunning. We were the only ones down at that part of the river. My brother said that this was now his favorite national park. That particular spot on the river had a special vibe, he said.
We left the park in the late afternoon or early evening and found a room at the Super 8 Motel in Hurricane, Utah. At the hotel clerk’s recommendation, we ate at sports grill in town. My meal was delicious- grilled salmon with mashed potatoes and corn.
Dad was not so pleased with his choice- the dinner special, or Maryland fried chicken. Evidently Maryland fried chicken is not like the typical southern fried chicken. The dish was served to him smothered in fried pancake batter, and we were not sure if the chicken itself was actually fried. The combination of the two tastes was not good, as I can say as well because I tried to eat it when he said he did not want any more. So, I learned not to order Maryland fried chicken if offered to me. Better yet, do not order a Maryland special when you are eating in Utah.
That night, just as the sun went down, I decided to go for a run through the streets of Hurricane, Utah.
I am not sure what the elevation is in Hurricane, but the run was difficult. This was in part due to the hills. The main reason for the difficulty, though, was the dust storm that kicked up basically as soon as I stepped out the door.
I now know why the town is called Hurricane. From talking to the hotel desk clerk the next day, such windstorms are not uncommon there.
My run was actually kind of spooky. Night had fallen, and I was running through quiet city streets that I had never been down before. I really did not know where I was running, and I just tried to keep an idea of where the motel was so that I could make it back. Close to the town were mountains and plateaus, but they were soon obscured by the dust and the darkness. At one point, I could only see about 40 yards in front of me. The wind howled, and the dirt got in my eyes, nose and mouth. The trees bent with the wind, and all sorts of debris and leaves blew in front of me and into me. I was glad when I found the motel again.
The next morning, June 10, I had a tasty bacon, egg and cheese croissantwich from the Burger King across the parking lot from the motel. Then we hit the road for a drive to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.
We stopped in the wilderness of Highway 59 at Pipe Springs National Monument on the Kaibab Indian Reservation. I took a brief walk among the shrubbery of the desert and spotted a baby jack rabbit with long ears. Mom bought a view finder at their visitor center for her grandson, my brother’s boy. She also purchased some slides of Zion National Park and the Grand Canyon to go with it.
I had been to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon before, so I kind of knew what to expect. The view was amazing, of course, though I was disappointed that we could not see the Colorado River all the way down at the bottom. It was just too steep and rocks obscured the view. My brother and I were interested in taking the famous mule train down to the canyon bottom. But again, Mom just could not do it. It reminded me of why I wanted to go on this vacation, and just how important this time was.
We had a wonderful lunch at the North Rim canyon lodge. I had the buffet.
The drive to the lodge was quite long from the entrance to the park, and there were no towns where one could stay. I asked our waitress and waiter where they lived, and they said that there was a hotel for employees inside the park about a 10 minute drive from the lodge. The hotel held over 100 employees. This was a seasonal job for them.
The main reason for us going to the Grand Canyon was because Mom said she wanted to see it (Her only other request for the trip was seeing the big Sequoia Trees in California). She was happy just to have the view for an hour or so.
Before getting into the car, we spotted a Steller's Jay Bird for the first time in our lives. It was beautiful with a blue sheened body and a tall black crest that flopped back and forth when it shook its head.
We made the trek back to I-15.
As the sun began to go down, we debated where we should stay for the night. Eventually, we agreed to stop in Las Vegas. At my suggestion, we got a room with a good rate at the Plaza in Old Town Las Vegas. This was where I stayed the first time I vacationed in the city back in 2003.
After checking into the room, we took Mom to the Venetian and ate dinner at the food court. I had Panda Express. It was very good, especially the egg roll. On a TV above one of the restaurants, my brother and I watched the end of the baseball game between Florida State and Stanford. FSU beat Stanford to go on to the College World Series.
After dinner, we walked around the Venetian and took Mom through the casino. We also found our way to the shops and the ceiling illuminated like the sky. Gondolas with singing boatsmen took couples down the canal between the shops.
As we had a long day, Mom and Dad were ready to go back to the Plaza for the night. But before we did that, I had my brother drive us down the full length of the Vegas Strip, so that Mom could see all the lights of the casinos.
On Monday, June 11 after a small breakfast inside the Plaza casino, we set off on I-15 South for California.
Just outside of Las Vegas, we stopped for fuel. I reflected with my parents on the life I have had so far and how I am fully aware of getting older and the fact that they are getting older.
I said something like this to them: “I had a failed experience in trying to make it as a screenwriter, and now I am older. Still, though, I fully intend to write a novel at some point, perhaps based on my experiences as a criminal trial attorney. A problem is that you are both past 60. You probably won’t be around to see it, if by chance I am successful in getting it published. Having the both of you see my success is a major reason why I have tried writing in the first place.”
I went on, “My experiences with screenwriting have taught me never to depend on my writing to make a living. Even if I get a novel published, I don’t expect to make much money from it. No longer will I put my writing ahead of what I do for a living.”
Both Mom and Dad just quietly listened to me.
We drove on into the Mojave Desert. I pointed out the Joshua Trees along the side of the road as we went up in elevation. Mom, Dad and my brother were all amused at these trees and how they compared with the trees on the east coast. For all of my family with the exception of myself, this was the farthest west they had ever been.
We crossed into California. My brother, Adam, who was driving, missed the “Welcome to California” sign at the state line because he was looking into the rear view mirror talking to Mom. We had just passed Buffalo Bill’s Casino at Primm, Nevada and saw a Carl Jr.’s hamburger restaurant. My brother was explaining to Mom that Carl Jr. is the name of Hardees restaurants out on the West Coast.
I joked with my brother that he was talking about a Carl Jr.’s restaurant at the moment he crossed into California for the first time.
“Hey, I was talking with my mother when I crossed into California for the first time,” he replied.
I think my family sort of expected everything to turn green like the East Coast once we hit California. My Dad does not like the desert, and that is all southeastern California is. I explained that we had to cross over the Sierra Nevada Mountains before he saw much green again.
In Barstow, we stopped for lunch at a place called the Barstow Station. Evidently it was a place for the convergence of I-15 and I-40, along with a Greyhound bus stop and a train station. There were several different restaurants and shops inside, including a Panda Express where I chose to eat lunch again. This restaurant was nowhere near as good as the Panda Express inside the Venetian, though.
From Barstow, we took Highway 58 to Bakersfield. Coming down the other side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, we saw miles and miles of Orange Groves or fields full of some other type of fruit. The mountains turned from bare rock on the east side to having an almost neon yellow sort of grass mixed in with boulders on the west side of the mountains.
In Bakersfield we got on Highway 198 to the Sequoia National Park. While in Bakersfield, I bought an Oreo milkshake for my brother and myself at a Carl Jr.’s restaurant.
During the drive north to the national park, we continued to pass by orange groves or lemon groves or tomato groves. Dad was amazed at it all. We also passed pumps rotating up and down, taking oil from the ground all along the way.
At a gas station close to the park, I got out and walked around close to some of the fields. A group of what I assumed to be migrant workers came to the gas station in a van, and I nodded hello to them. The driver had the largest straw hat that I have ever seen in person. The brim flopped over his shoulders.
Once we got inside Sequoia National Park itself, it was late in the afternoon and we were tired and apprehensive about heading into the park for more exploration. We stopped at the side of the main park road to discuss our plans.
I threw some rocks off of a cliff as we talked, and my brother pointed out to me a long leafed green plant next to our vehicle. The plant looked harmless enough at first glance, but upon closer inspection one could see that each long leaf ended in needle point. The leaves extended from the base of the plant in pattern much like a porcupine.
“Wow, you’d kill yourself if you fell on top of that,” my brother said. “Feel how sturdy and sharp those needles are.”
I reached down, lightly and carefully touching one of the needle points with my finger. It was indeed sharp and sturdy as my brother said (That night, hours later, my index finger was a little sore. I looked and there was actually a small hole where I had touched the plant, even though I had barely put my finger on it. The soreness made me believe that a small bit of poison or some defense agent of the plant had been injected into my finger as well. It wasn’t serious at all and healed in the next day- but I made note not to touch a plant like that again).
We decided to back track from the park and spend the night in the town of Visalia. We found a Fairfield Inn, and the desk clerk there recommended the restaurant, “Fugazi’s” in downtown Visalia. My brother had a California style pizza with barbecue sauce on it. The L.A. Kings won the Stanley Cup on television as we ate dinner at the restaurant.
After we got back to the hotel, the desk clerk furnished my brother and myself each with a pass to Lifestyles Fitness Center a couple of blocks away from the hotel. Adam was really impressed with the gym, and spent the full time working out at the various stations until it closed at 11pm. They had an indoor track 1/10 of a mile long, and I ran a little over 2 miles on it before we headed back to the hotel for the night.
The next morning, June 12, after eating the continental breakfast at the hotel, we explored Sequoia National Park. Before going into the park, we stopped at a gas station. I walked into an orange grove across the road from the station and took a look at the plants. There was a sticky index card with a grid attached to one of the plants. It read “Government insect trap. Do not disturb.” Numerous bugs had in fact gotten stuck on the card.
In the Sequoia National Park, I was impressed by clusters of small pink flowers. I wished that I knew the names of all the plants that I saw. The flower itself was about the size of a nickel. It had pink petals with a bright yellow center, At the base of each petal was a small, usually perfect triangle of purple.
We saw the General Sherman Sequoia Tree, the largest known tree by volume in the whole world. There is a Redwood tree that is taller and another Sequoia tree that is wider, but none have more volume than the General Sherman. It is estimated to be 2,500 years old.
After Mom had seen the giant Sequoias, she was happy for us to do whatever we wanted for the rest of the vacation. Adam bought a tuna fish sandwich inside the park, and I had a handful of peanut M&Ms. I suggested that we head to the Pacific Ocean as neither Mom, Dad nor my brother had ever seen it.
I tried to sleep a little as Adam drove out of the park, but the road was so curvy that my head kept falling to one side or the other and waking me up.
We drove out of the park to Fresno, then turned on to Highway 41 headed for the coast. We stopped in Lemoore and ate a mid-afternoon meal at Subway.
The drive down 41 was one of my favorite parts of the entire trip. Dad was amazed at the farm fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. We saw a crop duster plane that seemed to spray a ridiculously small portion of a field compared to all that was there.
Eventually highway 41 became a simple, two lane road that went over hills of that neon yellow grass, with sporadic but healthy trees dotting them. Cows and cow paths marked the hills. We saw deer in the fields, a turkey wondering along the road and later, a red shouldered hawk standing next to the road.
A fog or mist, typical of what I saw when I visited San Francisco in 2009 enveloped us as we reached Highway 101 South.
In Morro Bay, we tried to see the Pacific Ocean but really could only see the bay. The fog was thick and it was beginning to get dark.
We made our way to San Luis Obispo and decided to call it a night and wait for the next day to see the Pacific Ocean.
Again, we found a Super 8 Motel and ate a late dinner (just before the kitchen closed) at a raucous Irish Pub. It was trivia night, and I could tell Mom and Dad were a little uncomfortable being there. The food was tasty but incredibly rich and unhealthy, and I deliberately did not eat all of my buffalo chicken sandwich. My parents could not finish their soup and sandwich either, though my brother ate all of a monster burger. On TV at the pub, I watched the Dodgers beat Anaheim while San Francisco won its game on the other television. As Adam pointed out, there was no reaction in the pub when the Dodgers won, but the crowd cheered when San Francisco closed out the game.
The weather was cool in Morro Bay and San Luis Obispo (the 50s), and I told my family to note how the crowd was dressed at the San Francisco game with their jackets and hoodies.
That night at the motel, I suggested that after seeing the Pacific, we should head to LA to take in a Dodgers game.
Mom, Dad and Adam were all a little apprehensive about going to LA because of what they had seen and heard about the city on television in regard to traffic and gangs.
The next morning, we got back on Highway 101 in search of a good beach. The first place we tried was Avila Beach. There, my family saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time. There really was no beach there, however. Stone cliffs rose up from the water, with warning signs not to step out onto the edge. We all wanted to actually touch the water, so we continued to look for a good spot.
We discovered Pismo Beach, which was absolutely beautiful. The weather was nice but cool, and I had to wear a hoodie.
Dad was quite pleased to be able to take off his shoes and step into the ocean. The water was freezing cold, he said.
Adam touched the water with his hand and was picking up sea shells when a wave sneaked up on him and crashed into his shoes and jeans before he realized what was happening. I cracked up laughing.
Mom also touched the water with her hand, and then had to run to escape an incoming wave. That was funny to watch as well.
When I saw the Pacific for the first time, it was at Oxnard, CA in 2006. I remember standing in the ocean and being able to see snow on the mountains behind me. I called my brother on my cell phone to tell him that what my 4th grade teacher told me was true- in California you can be warm on the beach and see snow on the mountains behind you.
At Pismo Beach, though, there was too much fog inland to see any mountains. Still, it was very pleasant. Looking back from the ocean, to the left the sand turned to the stony cliffs from which we had just came.
We saw and petted a beautiful Rhodesian Ridgeback dog. Supposedly these dogs were bred in Africa to hunt lions. This dog was rollover friendly, though. It posed for a picture with us.
We walked out onto the pier, and I learned that there is clam unique to that area, the Pismo clam.
A pelican perched on a railing, and it puffed out its chest but blinked nervously as Dad approached it. We took a picture of it and then left it alone.
Surfers were in the water, and I thought it was interesting that all of the guys were wearing wet suits, but the two female surfers I saw were only wearing bikinis in the cold water.
Mom and Dad sat on a bench for a little while and watched the ocean. It was one of their favorite parts of the trip. Adam said with a smile that the vacation was only downhill from here for Mom and Dad, as I wanted to take them to L.A. next and then to Las Vegas.
We ate lunch afterwards at one of my favorite restaurants- Red Lobster. The restaurant offered a four course special which I ordered with Adam. I had a Caesar salad, New England chowder soup, shrimp pasta, and a chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream for dessert. And of course, there were the delicious cheddar biscuits. We got a to-go box for some of those.
So, it was on to L.A. and Dodger stadium via Highway 101. The road took us past Santa Barbara, where we got another good look at the ocean from our vehicle.
The road also took us right through Hollywood, and this is where the legendary traffic hit. We went from about 60 mph to a complete stop, as I told my brother to expect.
Thanks to the traffic stopping, though, I was able to spot the Hollywood sign in the hills overlooking the city. My view of the sign was between two buildings, and I pointed it out to my family before traffic started moving again.
We arrived at the stadium about three hours before game time and were able to buy four tickets together with no problem.
The game against the Anaheim Angels was really enjoyable. The L.A. Kings were there on the field for a pre-game celebration, and they brought out the Stanley Cup to the delight of the crowd. The Dodgers and the Angels both posed with them for pictures.
Mom read a book much of the time, but she said she enjoyed the atmosphere. The steps down to our seats were difficult for her to negotiate, and she had to laugh when Dad helped her keep her balance by holding the collar on the back of her neck like a cat picks up its kittens.
The Angels won the game 2-1, and it was an exciting finish in the 9th inning. Dad mentioned that he never thought he would see a game at Dodger stadium.
In the parking lot outside the stadium, the L.A. skyline was absolutely stark and beautiful. Mom took all of our pictures standing in front of it. I was pleased that everyone enjoyed the game and seeing L.A., and they agreed with me that it was worth the visit.
It was late at night when we drove out of the city looking for a hotel. Eventually we found a Fairfield Inn in Ontario. Mom and Dad were not hungry, but dinner for Adam and I was the leftover cheddar biscuits from Red Lobster.
On June 14, I got up and went for a nice run through the Industrial Park at Ontario. The weather was not too hot, and the morning sky was overcast. Most of the buildings in the park were like large offices. They housed things like the University of Phoenix or other colleges, and there were other hotels.
We took to the road and immediately began to go up in elevation in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Unfortunately, smog or fog enshrouded L.A. behind us and we could not see it. Dad said that he would miss the green of L.A. as he knew that on the other side of the mountains, California turned once again to desert.
At a rest stop in the middle of the desert on I-15, and I took the opportunity to walk out a little ways from it to enjoy the surroundings. Mom made the comment to me that I loved the desert, and I did not disagree with her. Dad and Adam also still seemed fascinated by just how different this environment was, but in just a few minutes of standing outside at the rest stop, dad got sun burned on the top of his head.
After we got back on the highway, we passed by some Joshua Trees, and stopped at an exit next to the Mojave National Preserve to take a picture with one. I noticed that the leaves of the Joshua tree also ended in a fine needle point, and I was careful not to touch them.
Right as we passed the border into Nevada at Primm, Buffalo Bill’s Casino was there for us to eat lunch. Adam wanted to stop earlier to eat at the Alien Fresh Jerky Restaurant (which is themed on Area 51, I guess). Instead, we had a nice buffet inside Buffalo Bill’s.
Once we got to Las Vegas, our first stop was the Bellagio so that I could go ahead and pick up our tickets for “O.” The family got to see the inside of the casino and the beautiful flowers and trees planted there.
Next, we checked into our rooms at the Luxor, the black pyramid of the strip. Our rooms were 16147 and 16149. I got 16149 all to myself, as I told them all before we went on vacation that when we got to Vegas, I was not going to sleep that much.
Mom was delighted that she could see planes landing and taking off from McCarran International Airport from her room.
When I stepped to the window to see what she was talking about, one of the first planes I saw come in for a landing was a large white airliner with no markings except for a red stripe down the side. According to things on the internet and a TV documentary, these are the planes that take employees back and forth to Area 51, the “non-existent” U.S. Air Force site. When I lived in Vegas back in 2006, these planes would come in low for a landing over the car dealership where I worked. I told Adam to come take a look.
I watched as the plane taxied to a building separate from the rest of the airport. The passengers all got off outside on the tarmac and walked into the building. A total of four planes eventually came in and parked next to the building. Who knows what is out there at Area 51.
That evening, we all went back to Old Town Las Vegas and watched the “Fremont Street Experience.” The lights to all the casinos went out, and the ceiling lit up with a light show and a tribute to Bon Jovi. It was neat, but I am not sure how much Mom enjoyed it because it startled her with its loudness.
I remembered these shows from years past in going to Vegas, but now they have added something that I don’t like- advertisements. When Bon Jovi finished playing, they kept the ceiling on and we had to listen to a couple of advertisements played on the loudspeaker. The next show was to be a tribute to Queen, but we went inside one of the casinos and had dinner at the Paradise Buffet.
That night, after Mom and Dad had gone to bed, my brother walked the strip until about 3am, exploring the different casinos.
As for myself, I tried my luck at the Flight Bar inside the Luxor and had a good conversation with a couple of girls from England. They were there celebrating earning their bachelor’s degree. We had a nice talk about all the countries they had visited, and how one of them had just landed a job in Saudi Arabia. They were excited to watch England take on Sweden the next day in the Euro Cup, and they asked me for a good place to watch it. I suggested the Sports Bar connected to New York New York, the old ESPN Zone. Eventually, though, they left me there at the Flight Bar. I went to another bar inside the Excalibur and tried to talk to a beautiful woman sitting alone. She said she worked in real estate there in Vegas. She wore a leopard skin outfit and seemed amused at my courage to come up and start a conversation all by myself. I thought she might be beginning to like me, but she suddenly shot me down by wishing me a good stay and walking off.
That one stung more than others for whatever reason, and I felt a little drained. I decided to call it a night and went back to my room. The time was around 4:30 am, but as most people who go there know, time does not matter in Las Vegas.
I only slept for two or three hours before I got up and went for a run on one of the treadmills at the Luxor’s fitness center. The day was Friday, June 15.
I met my parents and my brother, and we walked part of the strip, keeping in mind Mom’s energy level. We walked through the Tropicana and MGM Grand, and had lunch inside the MGM food court at a New York style pizza restaurant.
After lunch, we saw some street performers and were amazed at how they could be out there for so long in the tremendous heat. We also visited inside the new Cosmopolitan, the Monte Carlo, and the Excalibur before heading back to our rooms to rest for the “O” show at 7:30. On our way back to our rooms at the Luxor, we stopped inside the casino and had some delicious frozen yogurt. Mine was chocolate topped with blueberries.
After a brief rest, we drove to the Bellagio when it was show time.
“O,” a Cirque du Soleil production, has the reputation of being perhaps the best show in Vegas. My family enjoyed it and I was glad. I agreed with my brother’s assessment, that the show seemed to be something out of the mind of Tim Burton, especially the character who represented rain and the clowns. The acrobatics were incredible, as was the set decoration. I have also seen the Cirque du Soleil shows of “Ka” and “Zumanity.” Personally, I liked those shows a little more than “O.”
Afterwards, we ate dinner inside Caesar’s Palace. It was Friday night, and the first time that I had seen a Vegas casino become a touch too crowded for comfort.
We went outside and watched the water show in front of the Bellagio. Mom seemed to really enjoy this. One of the songs was Elvis’s “Viva, Las Vegas.” The next show was set to a classical tune that I did not recognize.
And that was pretty much it. Mom, Dad and Adam went back to the room for the night, while I went out to the casino bars again. I visited the bars at the Luxor and one at Mandalay Bay, with frankly even less success at talking to women than the night before…
It bummed me out somewhat to look around and realize that I was now older than most everyone else at the bar. But at least I was out there, trying. I would have been more unhappy to come to Vegas and then just sit in my room, watching TV or something. I reminded myself that this vacation was about spending time with Mom, Dad and my brother. In that regard, it had all gone very well. When I finally decided to go back to my room, I was surprised to see the sun actually coming up. The time was around 6 am.
The day was Saturday, June 16. I did not bother going to sleep. Later that morning, I noted that the Area 51 planes were all sitting on the Tarmac. This made me believe that whatever is going on at Area 51 is not too terribly important, because the planes evidently stay parked on the weekends.
A few hours later, I met my family again for our ride to the airport. Their flight back to Raleigh left at 12:40pm. My flight to Orlando did not leave until 5pm. The airline representative said that I was there too early to check my bag, so I had to say my goodbyes to my family before they went through airport security. Mom made me promise to call, no matter what time I got back home. She teared up a little bit.
My own flight back across the country was largely uneventful. We ran through some turbulence and steered around more, but I slept for most of the flight. I called and left a message with my parents when I was back at my house. This was around 2:30 am, east coast time.
All in all, this was the best vacation I have had with my family since I was a child and we went to the beach at Emerald Isle, NC for the first time with Mom’s side of the family.
I wrote this blog entry in the hopes of remembering as much of this vacation as I can. I know that when I go back to work, some of the details will get washed away. The passage of time is an eerie thing of nature. This vacation was one of those moments in my life when I wished I could freeze time and come back to this point whenever I wanted. I wished Mom’s health was better and that she could have enjoyed some things more, but she was very happy to have us all together. It was absolutely the right thing to do to take this vacation now when we did. I hope we can have more in the future, together as a family.
The vacation was my idea, though they picked where we would go. My parents are getting older- both are past 60 now, and my mom had a health scare last year. It occurred to me that I should take advantage of the chance to spend time with them.
While I was in law school, a cousin of mine suddenly and unexpectedly lost her father. He was a much loved uncle to me as well. So, this past week was very special to me- one of the most cherished times of my life, in fact.
Our days were jammed with activities, and I am recording them here before I forget some of the smaller details. Much of this blog will just be listing where we stayed and ate, as there are too many memories to record. I hope the list will be enough to jog my memory when I read this in the future.
Mom had never flown before. She had also never been west of the Appalachian Mountains. So, for our vacation, our plan was to fly into Las Vegas. There we were to rent a Ford Escape and head to different parts of Nevada, Utah, Arizona and California.
On Saturday, June 9th, I flew from Orlando to Las Vegas. The flight left early in the morning, before 7 am and before the sun came up. After we had taken to the air and passed over most of the country, I got a tremendous view of the Grand Canyon. The shadows cast from the rising sun were spectacular.
Once I landed in Vegas, I proceeded to the baggage claim area where my one big bag was already on the carousel. I then spotted Mom, Dad and my brother waiting for me. Their flight from Raleigh Durham International Airport had come in about half an hour ahead of mine.
Mom was okay with the flight. There was some turbulence that made her a little nervous, but she had a good window seat on the Southwest Airlines plane, and my dad and brother were all able to sit on the same row with her.
In Vegas, once we got the SUV, I took them to the New York, New York casino. We had some hot dogs from the Coney Island restaurant inside.
Then it was north on I-15 into Utah. We stopped in Mesquite, NV to pick up some bottled water and some snacks to carry along. Dad mentioned the green golf course in Mesquite and how he liked seeing green much better than the surrounding brown desert.
I had been out there before- I used to live in Las Vegas, in fact. The landscape was completely new to Mom, though. My brother made the comment that the high desert cliffs, rocks and plateaus reminded him of Western movies he had seen, where gunmen were hiding up there to pick someone off down below.
We passed through the town of St. George and traveled into Zion National Park. Dad laughed at the fence posts along the way and how crooked they were. We speculated that there just weren’t enough trees like back east to provide good wood for straight fence posts, though the fencing along the interstate had metal posts.
The road that leads through Zion is not open to cars this time of year, and we took park shuttles that came along every 10 minutes or so. It was there that I realized how much Mom’s health had changed. She had very little tolerance for the heat, and she did not want to get off the shuttle and walk around and explore.
My brother and I were finally able to convince her to get off at one spot so that he and I could walk down to the Virgin River, which cuts through the cliffs of the park. Mom sat in the shade of a tree while we made our way down with Dad. She said that in years past, walking along a river would have been one of her favorite things to do.
The river was quiet, and the view up was stunning. We were the only ones down at that part of the river. My brother said that this was now his favorite national park. That particular spot on the river had a special vibe, he said.
We left the park in the late afternoon or early evening and found a room at the Super 8 Motel in Hurricane, Utah. At the hotel clerk’s recommendation, we ate at sports grill in town. My meal was delicious- grilled salmon with mashed potatoes and corn.
Dad was not so pleased with his choice- the dinner special, or Maryland fried chicken. Evidently Maryland fried chicken is not like the typical southern fried chicken. The dish was served to him smothered in fried pancake batter, and we were not sure if the chicken itself was actually fried. The combination of the two tastes was not good, as I can say as well because I tried to eat it when he said he did not want any more. So, I learned not to order Maryland fried chicken if offered to me. Better yet, do not order a Maryland special when you are eating in Utah.
That night, just as the sun went down, I decided to go for a run through the streets of Hurricane, Utah.
I am not sure what the elevation is in Hurricane, but the run was difficult. This was in part due to the hills. The main reason for the difficulty, though, was the dust storm that kicked up basically as soon as I stepped out the door.
I now know why the town is called Hurricane. From talking to the hotel desk clerk the next day, such windstorms are not uncommon there.
My run was actually kind of spooky. Night had fallen, and I was running through quiet city streets that I had never been down before. I really did not know where I was running, and I just tried to keep an idea of where the motel was so that I could make it back. Close to the town were mountains and plateaus, but they were soon obscured by the dust and the darkness. At one point, I could only see about 40 yards in front of me. The wind howled, and the dirt got in my eyes, nose and mouth. The trees bent with the wind, and all sorts of debris and leaves blew in front of me and into me. I was glad when I found the motel again.
The next morning, June 10, I had a tasty bacon, egg and cheese croissantwich from the Burger King across the parking lot from the motel. Then we hit the road for a drive to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.
We stopped in the wilderness of Highway 59 at Pipe Springs National Monument on the Kaibab Indian Reservation. I took a brief walk among the shrubbery of the desert and spotted a baby jack rabbit with long ears. Mom bought a view finder at their visitor center for her grandson, my brother’s boy. She also purchased some slides of Zion National Park and the Grand Canyon to go with it.
I had been to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon before, so I kind of knew what to expect. The view was amazing, of course, though I was disappointed that we could not see the Colorado River all the way down at the bottom. It was just too steep and rocks obscured the view. My brother and I were interested in taking the famous mule train down to the canyon bottom. But again, Mom just could not do it. It reminded me of why I wanted to go on this vacation, and just how important this time was.
We had a wonderful lunch at the North Rim canyon lodge. I had the buffet.
The drive to the lodge was quite long from the entrance to the park, and there were no towns where one could stay. I asked our waitress and waiter where they lived, and they said that there was a hotel for employees inside the park about a 10 minute drive from the lodge. The hotel held over 100 employees. This was a seasonal job for them.
The main reason for us going to the Grand Canyon was because Mom said she wanted to see it (Her only other request for the trip was seeing the big Sequoia Trees in California). She was happy just to have the view for an hour or so.
Before getting into the car, we spotted a Steller's Jay Bird for the first time in our lives. It was beautiful with a blue sheened body and a tall black crest that flopped back and forth when it shook its head.
We made the trek back to I-15.
As the sun began to go down, we debated where we should stay for the night. Eventually, we agreed to stop in Las Vegas. At my suggestion, we got a room with a good rate at the Plaza in Old Town Las Vegas. This was where I stayed the first time I vacationed in the city back in 2003.
After checking into the room, we took Mom to the Venetian and ate dinner at the food court. I had Panda Express. It was very good, especially the egg roll. On a TV above one of the restaurants, my brother and I watched the end of the baseball game between Florida State and Stanford. FSU beat Stanford to go on to the College World Series.
After dinner, we walked around the Venetian and took Mom through the casino. We also found our way to the shops and the ceiling illuminated like the sky. Gondolas with singing boatsmen took couples down the canal between the shops.
As we had a long day, Mom and Dad were ready to go back to the Plaza for the night. But before we did that, I had my brother drive us down the full length of the Vegas Strip, so that Mom could see all the lights of the casinos.
On Monday, June 11 after a small breakfast inside the Plaza casino, we set off on I-15 South for California.
Just outside of Las Vegas, we stopped for fuel. I reflected with my parents on the life I have had so far and how I am fully aware of getting older and the fact that they are getting older.
I said something like this to them: “I had a failed experience in trying to make it as a screenwriter, and now I am older. Still, though, I fully intend to write a novel at some point, perhaps based on my experiences as a criminal trial attorney. A problem is that you are both past 60. You probably won’t be around to see it, if by chance I am successful in getting it published. Having the both of you see my success is a major reason why I have tried writing in the first place.”
I went on, “My experiences with screenwriting have taught me never to depend on my writing to make a living. Even if I get a novel published, I don’t expect to make much money from it. No longer will I put my writing ahead of what I do for a living.”
Both Mom and Dad just quietly listened to me.
We drove on into the Mojave Desert. I pointed out the Joshua Trees along the side of the road as we went up in elevation. Mom, Dad and my brother were all amused at these trees and how they compared with the trees on the east coast. For all of my family with the exception of myself, this was the farthest west they had ever been.
We crossed into California. My brother, Adam, who was driving, missed the “Welcome to California” sign at the state line because he was looking into the rear view mirror talking to Mom. We had just passed Buffalo Bill’s Casino at Primm, Nevada and saw a Carl Jr.’s hamburger restaurant. My brother was explaining to Mom that Carl Jr. is the name of Hardees restaurants out on the West Coast.
I joked with my brother that he was talking about a Carl Jr.’s restaurant at the moment he crossed into California for the first time.
“Hey, I was talking with my mother when I crossed into California for the first time,” he replied.
I think my family sort of expected everything to turn green like the East Coast once we hit California. My Dad does not like the desert, and that is all southeastern California is. I explained that we had to cross over the Sierra Nevada Mountains before he saw much green again.
In Barstow, we stopped for lunch at a place called the Barstow Station. Evidently it was a place for the convergence of I-15 and I-40, along with a Greyhound bus stop and a train station. There were several different restaurants and shops inside, including a Panda Express where I chose to eat lunch again. This restaurant was nowhere near as good as the Panda Express inside the Venetian, though.
From Barstow, we took Highway 58 to Bakersfield. Coming down the other side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, we saw miles and miles of Orange Groves or fields full of some other type of fruit. The mountains turned from bare rock on the east side to having an almost neon yellow sort of grass mixed in with boulders on the west side of the mountains.
In Bakersfield we got on Highway 198 to the Sequoia National Park. While in Bakersfield, I bought an Oreo milkshake for my brother and myself at a Carl Jr.’s restaurant.
During the drive north to the national park, we continued to pass by orange groves or lemon groves or tomato groves. Dad was amazed at it all. We also passed pumps rotating up and down, taking oil from the ground all along the way.
At a gas station close to the park, I got out and walked around close to some of the fields. A group of what I assumed to be migrant workers came to the gas station in a van, and I nodded hello to them. The driver had the largest straw hat that I have ever seen in person. The brim flopped over his shoulders.
Once we got inside Sequoia National Park itself, it was late in the afternoon and we were tired and apprehensive about heading into the park for more exploration. We stopped at the side of the main park road to discuss our plans.
I threw some rocks off of a cliff as we talked, and my brother pointed out to me a long leafed green plant next to our vehicle. The plant looked harmless enough at first glance, but upon closer inspection one could see that each long leaf ended in needle point. The leaves extended from the base of the plant in pattern much like a porcupine.
“Wow, you’d kill yourself if you fell on top of that,” my brother said. “Feel how sturdy and sharp those needles are.”
I reached down, lightly and carefully touching one of the needle points with my finger. It was indeed sharp and sturdy as my brother said (That night, hours later, my index finger was a little sore. I looked and there was actually a small hole where I had touched the plant, even though I had barely put my finger on it. The soreness made me believe that a small bit of poison or some defense agent of the plant had been injected into my finger as well. It wasn’t serious at all and healed in the next day- but I made note not to touch a plant like that again).
We decided to back track from the park and spend the night in the town of Visalia. We found a Fairfield Inn, and the desk clerk there recommended the restaurant, “Fugazi’s” in downtown Visalia. My brother had a California style pizza with barbecue sauce on it. The L.A. Kings won the Stanley Cup on television as we ate dinner at the restaurant.
After we got back to the hotel, the desk clerk furnished my brother and myself each with a pass to Lifestyles Fitness Center a couple of blocks away from the hotel. Adam was really impressed with the gym, and spent the full time working out at the various stations until it closed at 11pm. They had an indoor track 1/10 of a mile long, and I ran a little over 2 miles on it before we headed back to the hotel for the night.
The next morning, June 12, after eating the continental breakfast at the hotel, we explored Sequoia National Park. Before going into the park, we stopped at a gas station. I walked into an orange grove across the road from the station and took a look at the plants. There was a sticky index card with a grid attached to one of the plants. It read “Government insect trap. Do not disturb.” Numerous bugs had in fact gotten stuck on the card.
In the Sequoia National Park, I was impressed by clusters of small pink flowers. I wished that I knew the names of all the plants that I saw. The flower itself was about the size of a nickel. It had pink petals with a bright yellow center, At the base of each petal was a small, usually perfect triangle of purple.
We saw the General Sherman Sequoia Tree, the largest known tree by volume in the whole world. There is a Redwood tree that is taller and another Sequoia tree that is wider, but none have more volume than the General Sherman. It is estimated to be 2,500 years old.
After Mom had seen the giant Sequoias, she was happy for us to do whatever we wanted for the rest of the vacation. Adam bought a tuna fish sandwich inside the park, and I had a handful of peanut M&Ms. I suggested that we head to the Pacific Ocean as neither Mom, Dad nor my brother had ever seen it.
I tried to sleep a little as Adam drove out of the park, but the road was so curvy that my head kept falling to one side or the other and waking me up.
We drove out of the park to Fresno, then turned on to Highway 41 headed for the coast. We stopped in Lemoore and ate a mid-afternoon meal at Subway.
The drive down 41 was one of my favorite parts of the entire trip. Dad was amazed at the farm fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. We saw a crop duster plane that seemed to spray a ridiculously small portion of a field compared to all that was there.
Eventually highway 41 became a simple, two lane road that went over hills of that neon yellow grass, with sporadic but healthy trees dotting them. Cows and cow paths marked the hills. We saw deer in the fields, a turkey wondering along the road and later, a red shouldered hawk standing next to the road.
A fog or mist, typical of what I saw when I visited San Francisco in 2009 enveloped us as we reached Highway 101 South.
In Morro Bay, we tried to see the Pacific Ocean but really could only see the bay. The fog was thick and it was beginning to get dark.
We made our way to San Luis Obispo and decided to call it a night and wait for the next day to see the Pacific Ocean.
Again, we found a Super 8 Motel and ate a late dinner (just before the kitchen closed) at a raucous Irish Pub. It was trivia night, and I could tell Mom and Dad were a little uncomfortable being there. The food was tasty but incredibly rich and unhealthy, and I deliberately did not eat all of my buffalo chicken sandwich. My parents could not finish their soup and sandwich either, though my brother ate all of a monster burger. On TV at the pub, I watched the Dodgers beat Anaheim while San Francisco won its game on the other television. As Adam pointed out, there was no reaction in the pub when the Dodgers won, but the crowd cheered when San Francisco closed out the game.
The weather was cool in Morro Bay and San Luis Obispo (the 50s), and I told my family to note how the crowd was dressed at the San Francisco game with their jackets and hoodies.
That night at the motel, I suggested that after seeing the Pacific, we should head to LA to take in a Dodgers game.
Mom, Dad and Adam were all a little apprehensive about going to LA because of what they had seen and heard about the city on television in regard to traffic and gangs.
The next morning, we got back on Highway 101 in search of a good beach. The first place we tried was Avila Beach. There, my family saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time. There really was no beach there, however. Stone cliffs rose up from the water, with warning signs not to step out onto the edge. We all wanted to actually touch the water, so we continued to look for a good spot.
We discovered Pismo Beach, which was absolutely beautiful. The weather was nice but cool, and I had to wear a hoodie.
Dad was quite pleased to be able to take off his shoes and step into the ocean. The water was freezing cold, he said.
Adam touched the water with his hand and was picking up sea shells when a wave sneaked up on him and crashed into his shoes and jeans before he realized what was happening. I cracked up laughing.
Mom also touched the water with her hand, and then had to run to escape an incoming wave. That was funny to watch as well.
When I saw the Pacific for the first time, it was at Oxnard, CA in 2006. I remember standing in the ocean and being able to see snow on the mountains behind me. I called my brother on my cell phone to tell him that what my 4th grade teacher told me was true- in California you can be warm on the beach and see snow on the mountains behind you.
At Pismo Beach, though, there was too much fog inland to see any mountains. Still, it was very pleasant. Looking back from the ocean, to the left the sand turned to the stony cliffs from which we had just came.
We saw and petted a beautiful Rhodesian Ridgeback dog. Supposedly these dogs were bred in Africa to hunt lions. This dog was rollover friendly, though. It posed for a picture with us.
We walked out onto the pier, and I learned that there is clam unique to that area, the Pismo clam.
A pelican perched on a railing, and it puffed out its chest but blinked nervously as Dad approached it. We took a picture of it and then left it alone.
Surfers were in the water, and I thought it was interesting that all of the guys were wearing wet suits, but the two female surfers I saw were only wearing bikinis in the cold water.
Mom and Dad sat on a bench for a little while and watched the ocean. It was one of their favorite parts of the trip. Adam said with a smile that the vacation was only downhill from here for Mom and Dad, as I wanted to take them to L.A. next and then to Las Vegas.
We ate lunch afterwards at one of my favorite restaurants- Red Lobster. The restaurant offered a four course special which I ordered with Adam. I had a Caesar salad, New England chowder soup, shrimp pasta, and a chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream for dessert. And of course, there were the delicious cheddar biscuits. We got a to-go box for some of those.
So, it was on to L.A. and Dodger stadium via Highway 101. The road took us past Santa Barbara, where we got another good look at the ocean from our vehicle.
The road also took us right through Hollywood, and this is where the legendary traffic hit. We went from about 60 mph to a complete stop, as I told my brother to expect.
Thanks to the traffic stopping, though, I was able to spot the Hollywood sign in the hills overlooking the city. My view of the sign was between two buildings, and I pointed it out to my family before traffic started moving again.
We arrived at the stadium about three hours before game time and were able to buy four tickets together with no problem.
The game against the Anaheim Angels was really enjoyable. The L.A. Kings were there on the field for a pre-game celebration, and they brought out the Stanley Cup to the delight of the crowd. The Dodgers and the Angels both posed with them for pictures.
Mom read a book much of the time, but she said she enjoyed the atmosphere. The steps down to our seats were difficult for her to negotiate, and she had to laugh when Dad helped her keep her balance by holding the collar on the back of her neck like a cat picks up its kittens.
The Angels won the game 2-1, and it was an exciting finish in the 9th inning. Dad mentioned that he never thought he would see a game at Dodger stadium.
In the parking lot outside the stadium, the L.A. skyline was absolutely stark and beautiful. Mom took all of our pictures standing in front of it. I was pleased that everyone enjoyed the game and seeing L.A., and they agreed with me that it was worth the visit.
It was late at night when we drove out of the city looking for a hotel. Eventually we found a Fairfield Inn in Ontario. Mom and Dad were not hungry, but dinner for Adam and I was the leftover cheddar biscuits from Red Lobster.
On June 14, I got up and went for a nice run through the Industrial Park at Ontario. The weather was not too hot, and the morning sky was overcast. Most of the buildings in the park were like large offices. They housed things like the University of Phoenix or other colleges, and there were other hotels.
We took to the road and immediately began to go up in elevation in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Unfortunately, smog or fog enshrouded L.A. behind us and we could not see it. Dad said that he would miss the green of L.A. as he knew that on the other side of the mountains, California turned once again to desert.
At a rest stop in the middle of the desert on I-15, and I took the opportunity to walk out a little ways from it to enjoy the surroundings. Mom made the comment to me that I loved the desert, and I did not disagree with her. Dad and Adam also still seemed fascinated by just how different this environment was, but in just a few minutes of standing outside at the rest stop, dad got sun burned on the top of his head.
After we got back on the highway, we passed by some Joshua Trees, and stopped at an exit next to the Mojave National Preserve to take a picture with one. I noticed that the leaves of the Joshua tree also ended in a fine needle point, and I was careful not to touch them.
Right as we passed the border into Nevada at Primm, Buffalo Bill’s Casino was there for us to eat lunch. Adam wanted to stop earlier to eat at the Alien Fresh Jerky Restaurant (which is themed on Area 51, I guess). Instead, we had a nice buffet inside Buffalo Bill’s.
Once we got to Las Vegas, our first stop was the Bellagio so that I could go ahead and pick up our tickets for “O.” The family got to see the inside of the casino and the beautiful flowers and trees planted there.
Next, we checked into our rooms at the Luxor, the black pyramid of the strip. Our rooms were 16147 and 16149. I got 16149 all to myself, as I told them all before we went on vacation that when we got to Vegas, I was not going to sleep that much.
Mom was delighted that she could see planes landing and taking off from McCarran International Airport from her room.
When I stepped to the window to see what she was talking about, one of the first planes I saw come in for a landing was a large white airliner with no markings except for a red stripe down the side. According to things on the internet and a TV documentary, these are the planes that take employees back and forth to Area 51, the “non-existent” U.S. Air Force site. When I lived in Vegas back in 2006, these planes would come in low for a landing over the car dealership where I worked. I told Adam to come take a look.
I watched as the plane taxied to a building separate from the rest of the airport. The passengers all got off outside on the tarmac and walked into the building. A total of four planes eventually came in and parked next to the building. Who knows what is out there at Area 51.
That evening, we all went back to Old Town Las Vegas and watched the “Fremont Street Experience.” The lights to all the casinos went out, and the ceiling lit up with a light show and a tribute to Bon Jovi. It was neat, but I am not sure how much Mom enjoyed it because it startled her with its loudness.
I remembered these shows from years past in going to Vegas, but now they have added something that I don’t like- advertisements. When Bon Jovi finished playing, they kept the ceiling on and we had to listen to a couple of advertisements played on the loudspeaker. The next show was to be a tribute to Queen, but we went inside one of the casinos and had dinner at the Paradise Buffet.
That night, after Mom and Dad had gone to bed, my brother walked the strip until about 3am, exploring the different casinos.
As for myself, I tried my luck at the Flight Bar inside the Luxor and had a good conversation with a couple of girls from England. They were there celebrating earning their bachelor’s degree. We had a nice talk about all the countries they had visited, and how one of them had just landed a job in Saudi Arabia. They were excited to watch England take on Sweden the next day in the Euro Cup, and they asked me for a good place to watch it. I suggested the Sports Bar connected to New York New York, the old ESPN Zone. Eventually, though, they left me there at the Flight Bar. I went to another bar inside the Excalibur and tried to talk to a beautiful woman sitting alone. She said she worked in real estate there in Vegas. She wore a leopard skin outfit and seemed amused at my courage to come up and start a conversation all by myself. I thought she might be beginning to like me, but she suddenly shot me down by wishing me a good stay and walking off.
That one stung more than others for whatever reason, and I felt a little drained. I decided to call it a night and went back to my room. The time was around 4:30 am, but as most people who go there know, time does not matter in Las Vegas.
I only slept for two or three hours before I got up and went for a run on one of the treadmills at the Luxor’s fitness center. The day was Friday, June 15.
I met my parents and my brother, and we walked part of the strip, keeping in mind Mom’s energy level. We walked through the Tropicana and MGM Grand, and had lunch inside the MGM food court at a New York style pizza restaurant.
After lunch, we saw some street performers and were amazed at how they could be out there for so long in the tremendous heat. We also visited inside the new Cosmopolitan, the Monte Carlo, and the Excalibur before heading back to our rooms to rest for the “O” show at 7:30. On our way back to our rooms at the Luxor, we stopped inside the casino and had some delicious frozen yogurt. Mine was chocolate topped with blueberries.
After a brief rest, we drove to the Bellagio when it was show time.
“O,” a Cirque du Soleil production, has the reputation of being perhaps the best show in Vegas. My family enjoyed it and I was glad. I agreed with my brother’s assessment, that the show seemed to be something out of the mind of Tim Burton, especially the character who represented rain and the clowns. The acrobatics were incredible, as was the set decoration. I have also seen the Cirque du Soleil shows of “Ka” and “Zumanity.” Personally, I liked those shows a little more than “O.”
Afterwards, we ate dinner inside Caesar’s Palace. It was Friday night, and the first time that I had seen a Vegas casino become a touch too crowded for comfort.
We went outside and watched the water show in front of the Bellagio. Mom seemed to really enjoy this. One of the songs was Elvis’s “Viva, Las Vegas.” The next show was set to a classical tune that I did not recognize.
And that was pretty much it. Mom, Dad and Adam went back to the room for the night, while I went out to the casino bars again. I visited the bars at the Luxor and one at Mandalay Bay, with frankly even less success at talking to women than the night before…
It bummed me out somewhat to look around and realize that I was now older than most everyone else at the bar. But at least I was out there, trying. I would have been more unhappy to come to Vegas and then just sit in my room, watching TV or something. I reminded myself that this vacation was about spending time with Mom, Dad and my brother. In that regard, it had all gone very well. When I finally decided to go back to my room, I was surprised to see the sun actually coming up. The time was around 6 am.
The day was Saturday, June 16. I did not bother going to sleep. Later that morning, I noted that the Area 51 planes were all sitting on the Tarmac. This made me believe that whatever is going on at Area 51 is not too terribly important, because the planes evidently stay parked on the weekends.
A few hours later, I met my family again for our ride to the airport. Their flight back to Raleigh left at 12:40pm. My flight to Orlando did not leave until 5pm. The airline representative said that I was there too early to check my bag, so I had to say my goodbyes to my family before they went through airport security. Mom made me promise to call, no matter what time I got back home. She teared up a little bit.
My own flight back across the country was largely uneventful. We ran through some turbulence and steered around more, but I slept for most of the flight. I called and left a message with my parents when I was back at my house. This was around 2:30 am, east coast time.
All in all, this was the best vacation I have had with my family since I was a child and we went to the beach at Emerald Isle, NC for the first time with Mom’s side of the family.
I wrote this blog entry in the hopes of remembering as much of this vacation as I can. I know that when I go back to work, some of the details will get washed away. The passage of time is an eerie thing of nature. This vacation was one of those moments in my life when I wished I could freeze time and come back to this point whenever I wanted. I wished Mom’s health was better and that she could have enjoyed some things more, but she was very happy to have us all together. It was absolutely the right thing to do to take this vacation now when we did. I hope we can have more in the future, together as a family.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Kowboys and an Airport
In my last blog entry, I wrote that if I jogged south from my house, I would come to Lake Tohopekaliga. But if I head due west, eventually I arrive at Thacker Avenue and Osceola High School.
Osceola High School is already large- there is a sign on the football team’s field house that reads 5-A State Football Champions. When I was in high school in North Carolina, the schools only went up to 4A. Like high schools in many other areas, though, it is expanding. Half a dozen or more trailers set in a construction zone beside the school, and I can’t decide if the trailers are for the construction workers or rather make-shift classrooms to deal with the overflow of students.
Some of the houses and cars around the school have signs in the windows that say “Go Kowboys!” or “Kissimmee Kowboys,” the school mascot.
If I continue running south down Thacker Avenue, eventually the road ends at the train tracks. Just south of the school, though, there is a community that lines gravel roads leading to an open pasture.
I went for a jog in and out of these roads for the first time a few days ago. It was a Friday evening, just as the sun started to go down.
I liked the people in this neighborhood. Many were sitting outside, sipping various beverages on a porch or on their steps. Older model Mustangs and Camaros set in some of the yards.
A plump and cute blonde, when she saw me running by, took a break from wrestling in the yard with a guy I am guessing was her boyfriend to shout at me, “Run faster, boy! Work out! Get that heart pumping!”
I smiled at her and gave a thumbs up.
As I jogged past another house, I could tell that they were gearing up for a big party. Rock music blasted from an open shed to the side of the house, and two shirtless guys with beer guts stood on the porch. One of them, probably in his early 20s, paced back and forth with a cell phone. The other fellow, a little older and much bigger, was mouthing off to an obvious bottle-blonde standing in the yard. She had a nice figure but a tough looking face, and she held a cigarette and a beer can in the same fingers that she was using to point at the guys on the porch. She fussed at them about who knows what.
That house looked like a good time for the night, and I was mildly tempted to go home, get cleaned up and then come back out there to see what adventures I could get into. The two shirtless guys glared at me as I jogged past, though. I could tell that they were the types who enjoyed brawling after having a few drinks.
It made me sad, too, to realize that I am a bit too old to pull off a stunt like that now. It would not be like I was some young kid showing up to a party. I am older and I have more responsibilities.
Anyway, I continued my run that Friday evening, back past the high school and then down a road headed further west than I had run before. To my surprise, the road dead ended at a small airport- The Kissimmee Airport.
I stopped at a fence and watched a few private planes take off or come in for a landing. This was right as the sun disappeared below the trees. A cloud bank just above the horizon made for one of the prettiest sunsets that I have seen in a while. I noticed a couple of guys sitting on the hood of their fuel truck next to a hangar watching the sunset as well.
The weather here is a large part of what makes Kissimmee great. Perhaps the summer is too hot for some. For me, though, it feels nice to be outside, any time of the day or night, almost all of the time.
Osceola High School is already large- there is a sign on the football team’s field house that reads 5-A State Football Champions. When I was in high school in North Carolina, the schools only went up to 4A. Like high schools in many other areas, though, it is expanding. Half a dozen or more trailers set in a construction zone beside the school, and I can’t decide if the trailers are for the construction workers or rather make-shift classrooms to deal with the overflow of students.
Some of the houses and cars around the school have signs in the windows that say “Go Kowboys!” or “Kissimmee Kowboys,” the school mascot.
If I continue running south down Thacker Avenue, eventually the road ends at the train tracks. Just south of the school, though, there is a community that lines gravel roads leading to an open pasture.
I went for a jog in and out of these roads for the first time a few days ago. It was a Friday evening, just as the sun started to go down.
I liked the people in this neighborhood. Many were sitting outside, sipping various beverages on a porch or on their steps. Older model Mustangs and Camaros set in some of the yards.
A plump and cute blonde, when she saw me running by, took a break from wrestling in the yard with a guy I am guessing was her boyfriend to shout at me, “Run faster, boy! Work out! Get that heart pumping!”
I smiled at her and gave a thumbs up.
As I jogged past another house, I could tell that they were gearing up for a big party. Rock music blasted from an open shed to the side of the house, and two shirtless guys with beer guts stood on the porch. One of them, probably in his early 20s, paced back and forth with a cell phone. The other fellow, a little older and much bigger, was mouthing off to an obvious bottle-blonde standing in the yard. She had a nice figure but a tough looking face, and she held a cigarette and a beer can in the same fingers that she was using to point at the guys on the porch. She fussed at them about who knows what.
That house looked like a good time for the night, and I was mildly tempted to go home, get cleaned up and then come back out there to see what adventures I could get into. The two shirtless guys glared at me as I jogged past, though. I could tell that they were the types who enjoyed brawling after having a few drinks.
It made me sad, too, to realize that I am a bit too old to pull off a stunt like that now. It would not be like I was some young kid showing up to a party. I am older and I have more responsibilities.
Anyway, I continued my run that Friday evening, back past the high school and then down a road headed further west than I had run before. To my surprise, the road dead ended at a small airport- The Kissimmee Airport.
I stopped at a fence and watched a few private planes take off or come in for a landing. This was right as the sun disappeared below the trees. A cloud bank just above the horizon made for one of the prettiest sunsets that I have seen in a while. I noticed a couple of guys sitting on the hood of their fuel truck next to a hangar watching the sunset as well.
The weather here is a large part of what makes Kissimmee great. Perhaps the summer is too hot for some. For me, though, it feels nice to be outside, any time of the day or night, almost all of the time.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Birds of Lake Tohopekaliga
Twice a week, I try to go for runs through downtown Kissimmee. If I head south from the house where I live, it takes me to Lake Tohopekaliga.
The lake is large enough that I can’t see the entire shoreline. It is home to alligators, fish, and a good variety of birds. The first time that I went for a run around the lake, I was delighted at all the different kinds of water fowl. Here is a list of the birds that I have personally seen on my jogs.
Sand Hill Crane
Limpkin
Wood Stork
American Coot
Anhinga
Great Egret
Great Blue Heron
White Ibis
Common Moorhen
Blue Jay
Red-winged Blackbird
American Crow
Osprey
Watching the Osprey dive straight down into the water and emerge with a fish is a memorable sight. I’ve seen the Osprey, flying overhead with a fish in its talons, closely followed by a dozen cawing crows.
If I sat around the lake all day, I'm sure that I would spot more birds and see some fascinating things about their behavior. As it is, though, I have to keep moving on my jogs. I am glad that I have employment in this economy, but my job takes up most of my time, by far. There is not enough time to spend an entire day birdwatching.
The birds of Lake Tohopekaliga are certainly entertaining, though.
The lake is large enough that I can’t see the entire shoreline. It is home to alligators, fish, and a good variety of birds. The first time that I went for a run around the lake, I was delighted at all the different kinds of water fowl. Here is a list of the birds that I have personally seen on my jogs.
Sand Hill Crane
Limpkin
Wood Stork
American Coot
Anhinga
Great Egret
Great Blue Heron
White Ibis
Common Moorhen
Blue Jay
Red-winged Blackbird
American Crow
Osprey
Watching the Osprey dive straight down into the water and emerge with a fish is a memorable sight. I’ve seen the Osprey, flying overhead with a fish in its talons, closely followed by a dozen cawing crows.
If I sat around the lake all day, I'm sure that I would spot more birds and see some fascinating things about their behavior. As it is, though, I have to keep moving on my jogs. I am glad that I have employment in this economy, but my job takes up most of my time, by far. There is not enough time to spend an entire day birdwatching.
The birds of Lake Tohopekaliga are certainly entertaining, though.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Night Walks
For much of my life since graduating from college, I have lived in the standard cookie-cutter apartment complexes that one finds in publications like “Apartment Finder.” For whatever reason, I have never had the urge or desire to buy a house. In Wilmington, NC, I lived at Colonial Parke Apartments. In Alexandria, Virginia, I resided at Riverside Apartments. In Las Vegas, it was Las Palmas Apartments. In Tallahassee, it was Alumni Village.
When I moved to Kissimmee, though, it was the first time I utilized “Craig’s List” to find a place to live. I’m not sure that I can fully recommend consulting Craig’s List for this purpose. It is definitely hit or miss. But the web site opened my mind up to another way of living. There are actually unique and cool options outside of the apartment complexes which had previously been the only places I would look.
I have found a great area, called the Beaumont Historic District in downtown Kissimmee, where there are no big apartment complexes, but rather large old Victorian style houses that have often been divided into individual living units.
Though Kissimmee is the gateway to Disney World and host to two Major League Baseball teams during spring training, in reality Kissimmee is a small town.
Main Street is a pretty strip of old shops and newer restaurants, and the buildings have an aged feeling to them, either because of the style in which they are built or because they were in fact constructed in the 1800s or early 1900s. At night, I often go for walks or jogs down Main Street.
Main Street and all of downtown Kissimmee for that matter is very quiet after the sun goes down. The first few times I went for a walk, it surprised me that there was absolutely no one on the streets. It is very unlike Miami, Philadelphia, Las Vegas, and San Francisco- four cities where I have also enjoyed night time strolls. In contrast to the interesting characters on the streets in those large cities, usually the only living creatures I encounter in Kissimmee are stray cats and a couple of raccoons.
The quiet emptiness as I walk through downtown makes me notice other things.
Trees take on characters of their own. A tree can look very different at night under the stars, or perhaps with the moon giving it a silhouette. Historic downtown is filled with magnolias and huge, old oaks covered in Spanish moss.
Train tracks pass right behind the Courthouse, close to Lake Tohopekaliga. The tracks run parallel to Main Street, stretching straight out of sight to the north and rounding a curve if one looks to the south. Amtrak and CSX use the line regularly.
One night when I was actually out for a run instead of a walk, I heard the whistle blowing in the distance. Immediately, I sprinted for the tracks and got there just as the red flashing lights turned on at the crosswalk and the guard rail came down.
An especially long train, pulled by three engines, roared past me three or four feet away. It was probably not a wise decision to stand so close to the tracks, but I had never had the chance to see a training barreling through a quiet lonely night like that. The breeze that all the rail cars generated was impressive, and I did in fact take a few steps back when I thought about a reverse breeze and how it might be strong enough to suck me under the wheels.
Standing that close to the speeding train, I also was aware of how high the box cars were. Most of them were double stacked. It simply was a huge amount of metal and energy. And then the last car passed me. I stepped onto the tracks and watched as it faded into the darkness, heading north, the sound of the engines now gone and the sound of the wheels on the track quickly growing faint…
One might get the impression from reading this blog entry that Main Street and downtown Kissimmee is a lonely place after dark.
Daytime is certainly different, with all the shops and restaurants open and people and families bustling about. I am sure that I could write an entry about that if I had more experience with it. In the day, though, I am at work. Almost all of my observations of downtown have come after dark when I have some leisure time to explore. Perhaps you should look at kissimmeemainstreet.com to help get a feel of the place during the day.
But I enjoy my nighttime walks and jogs down Main Street.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Spring Training Baseball
There are many great things about living in this part of Florida.
One of my favorite discoveries thus far is spring training. For those who are not fans of Major League Baseball, each year several teams come down to Florida beginning in February and play against each other in exhibition games. Every day until the beginning of April, the teams take to fields across central and south Florida. Each team has its own small stadium, its spring training home. The city of Kissimmee hosts two teams. The Atlanta Braves play at Champions Stadium at Disney World, and the Houston Astros play at Osceola County Stadium.
I like Osceola County Stadium the best. It is only about a 10 minute drive from my house, and it is quite small. When I walked up to the booth to buy a ticket to the Astros versus the New York Mets in mid March, the game was sold out except for standing room only. But even with my standing room only ticket, I felt like I was right on top of the field. It was rather amazing to me to be that close to the players in an actual game. It was a much more casual and relaxed atmosphere than the crowd and security one encounters at a regular season game.
Right next to the stadium on Highway 192 is a small and colorful restaurant called “The Cheesesteak Factory,” which I guess is a play on the title of delicious chain restaurant, “The Cheesecake Factory.” The Cheesesteak Factory is not a chain, though. I’ve seen the person I assume to be the owner hard at work getting things ready just before it opened at 11am, and he is there every day personally cooking the meals. The restaurant boasts that it has the best cheesesteaks south of Philadelphia. After eating there, I have no reason to doubt it. They also serve a terrific chicken cheesesteak sandwich. A lady who works there told me that they get really busy this time of year, especially when the Philadelphia Phillies are in for a game. One day during the work week when I stopped there to grab a quick lunch, Milt Thompson, a former player for the Phillies and now a coach in the Houston Astros organization was collecting a whole pile of cheesesteak sandwiches for the players as they took on the Washington Nationals.
Unfortunately, tickets to a spring training game are just as expensive (if not more so) than for a regular season game. Atlanta played Detroit on March 30 at Disneyword, and I paid close to $30 just to have spot on the grass down the left field line. Obviously, the crowds at these games are well-to-do. It is mainly young professionals who bring out their families, or retired folks.
At the Astros/Mets game at Osceola County Stadium where I mentioned I bought a standing room only ticket, I also had one of the most interesting conversations of my life with a stranger.
He told me he was an independent computer consultant for most of his career in New York City, though now he worked for IBM. He stood beside me and we talked for almost the entire game. He had a reserved seat behind the Astros dugout, but where I was standing was shaded. He preferred this to roasting in the sun with his family. A lifelong Mets fan, his son lived in Tampa and had just become father to a little girl. The man was down from New York visiting his new granddaughter.
Among the things we talked about were how the computer industry had changed over his career, the Mets chances for this year, the passing of former Mets catcher Gary Carter (who was one of my first baseball heroes. I remember Gary Carter was in my very first pack of baseball cards- 1984 Topps. It was an All-Star card for the Montreal Expos).
The conversation became extremely interesting for me when the man told me that he was inside the World Trade Center on September 11.
Not many people had arrived yet at his office on the 90th floor that morning, he said. He told me that the first plane came in and struck the tower three floors above him. He was not near a window, but he heard a loud boom, and the building moved about eight feet, then came back.
“What the hell was that?” he asked a coworker.
“Never mind what it was,” the coworker replied. “Let’s get out of here.”
They walked the 90 floors down to the ground level.
I asked him if he heard when the second plane hit, and he said no. The stairwell they used to exit the tower was its own independent structure. “It was a concrete tomb,” he said. “You couldn’t hear anything on the outside.”
By the time the he reached the ground floor, both buildings were burning and people were jumping from the upper floors. He was directed to an alternate exit, one he had never used before, to avoid the jumpers.
I asked him how many people died that he knew, and he said three. One was a police captain that he said hello to each morning as he entered the building. She stood a post at the World Trade Center. He remembered thinking that it was odd that a police captain would stand a post each day, but there she was.
On September 11, she was helping direct people from the entrance lobby out of the building. Too many people were trying to crowd through a door of a glass wall in the lobby, so she used her side arm to shoot out the glass wall.
That police captain was one of the people who died when the building collapsed.
I asked the man if he got caught up in in the tremendous dust cloud after the buildings collapsed, and he said no. When the first tower collapsed, he ran for two or three blocks. The dust never reached him.
The man must have seen the skeptical look on my face when he said he ran two or three blocks. To be honest, he was quite fat.
“Yeah,” he said, “if it happened today I would just have to let all that stuff envelope me.”
He lived in a suburb of New York City, but he walked all the way home on September 11. The hours after the planes hit and the buildings collapsed showed New York City at its finest, he said. Restaurants and businesses were giving out free food and water to people as they walked away from Ground Zero.
I could see that telling the story to me had taken some energy out of him, and he said he needed to find his family. I congratulated him again on becoming a grandfather. We said goodbye without knowing each other’s name…
The baseball game itself was quite enjoyable. The Astros won, 9-5, and the weather was fantastic.
Almost every day the weather is fantastic here in Kissimmee. This is a great place to live.
-Nathan Marshburn
One of my favorite discoveries thus far is spring training. For those who are not fans of Major League Baseball, each year several teams come down to Florida beginning in February and play against each other in exhibition games. Every day until the beginning of April, the teams take to fields across central and south Florida. Each team has its own small stadium, its spring training home. The city of Kissimmee hosts two teams. The Atlanta Braves play at Champions Stadium at Disney World, and the Houston Astros play at Osceola County Stadium.
I like Osceola County Stadium the best. It is only about a 10 minute drive from my house, and it is quite small. When I walked up to the booth to buy a ticket to the Astros versus the New York Mets in mid March, the game was sold out except for standing room only. But even with my standing room only ticket, I felt like I was right on top of the field. It was rather amazing to me to be that close to the players in an actual game. It was a much more casual and relaxed atmosphere than the crowd and security one encounters at a regular season game.
Right next to the stadium on Highway 192 is a small and colorful restaurant called “The Cheesesteak Factory,” which I guess is a play on the title of delicious chain restaurant, “The Cheesecake Factory.” The Cheesesteak Factory is not a chain, though. I’ve seen the person I assume to be the owner hard at work getting things ready just before it opened at 11am, and he is there every day personally cooking the meals. The restaurant boasts that it has the best cheesesteaks south of Philadelphia. After eating there, I have no reason to doubt it. They also serve a terrific chicken cheesesteak sandwich. A lady who works there told me that they get really busy this time of year, especially when the Philadelphia Phillies are in for a game. One day during the work week when I stopped there to grab a quick lunch, Milt Thompson, a former player for the Phillies and now a coach in the Houston Astros organization was collecting a whole pile of cheesesteak sandwiches for the players as they took on the Washington Nationals.
Unfortunately, tickets to a spring training game are just as expensive (if not more so) than for a regular season game. Atlanta played Detroit on March 30 at Disneyword, and I paid close to $30 just to have spot on the grass down the left field line. Obviously, the crowds at these games are well-to-do. It is mainly young professionals who bring out their families, or retired folks.
At the Astros/Mets game at Osceola County Stadium where I mentioned I bought a standing room only ticket, I also had one of the most interesting conversations of my life with a stranger.
He told me he was an independent computer consultant for most of his career in New York City, though now he worked for IBM. He stood beside me and we talked for almost the entire game. He had a reserved seat behind the Astros dugout, but where I was standing was shaded. He preferred this to roasting in the sun with his family. A lifelong Mets fan, his son lived in Tampa and had just become father to a little girl. The man was down from New York visiting his new granddaughter.
Among the things we talked about were how the computer industry had changed over his career, the Mets chances for this year, the passing of former Mets catcher Gary Carter (who was one of my first baseball heroes. I remember Gary Carter was in my very first pack of baseball cards- 1984 Topps. It was an All-Star card for the Montreal Expos).
The conversation became extremely interesting for me when the man told me that he was inside the World Trade Center on September 11.
Not many people had arrived yet at his office on the 90th floor that morning, he said. He told me that the first plane came in and struck the tower three floors above him. He was not near a window, but he heard a loud boom, and the building moved about eight feet, then came back.
“What the hell was that?” he asked a coworker.
“Never mind what it was,” the coworker replied. “Let’s get out of here.”
They walked the 90 floors down to the ground level.
I asked him if he heard when the second plane hit, and he said no. The stairwell they used to exit the tower was its own independent structure. “It was a concrete tomb,” he said. “You couldn’t hear anything on the outside.”
By the time the he reached the ground floor, both buildings were burning and people were jumping from the upper floors. He was directed to an alternate exit, one he had never used before, to avoid the jumpers.
I asked him how many people died that he knew, and he said three. One was a police captain that he said hello to each morning as he entered the building. She stood a post at the World Trade Center. He remembered thinking that it was odd that a police captain would stand a post each day, but there she was.
On September 11, she was helping direct people from the entrance lobby out of the building. Too many people were trying to crowd through a door of a glass wall in the lobby, so she used her side arm to shoot out the glass wall.
That police captain was one of the people who died when the building collapsed.
I asked the man if he got caught up in in the tremendous dust cloud after the buildings collapsed, and he said no. When the first tower collapsed, he ran for two or three blocks. The dust never reached him.
The man must have seen the skeptical look on my face when he said he ran two or three blocks. To be honest, he was quite fat.
“Yeah,” he said, “if it happened today I would just have to let all that stuff envelope me.”
He lived in a suburb of New York City, but he walked all the way home on September 11. The hours after the planes hit and the buildings collapsed showed New York City at its finest, he said. Restaurants and businesses were giving out free food and water to people as they walked away from Ground Zero.
I could see that telling the story to me had taken some energy out of him, and he said he needed to find his family. I congratulated him again on becoming a grandfather. We said goodbye without knowing each other’s name…
The baseball game itself was quite enjoyable. The Astros won, 9-5, and the weather was fantastic.
Almost every day the weather is fantastic here in Kissimmee. This is a great place to live.
-Nathan Marshburn
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