By itself, nostalgia isn’t a bad thing. When we base our primary motivation off of nostalgia, that’s when things start getting dangerous.
Well time slips away, and leaves you with nothing mister
But boring stories of – Glory Days.
-Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band “Glory Days”
“My parents lived on a very frugal budget. It was really irritating to me (as a child). I had no really proper vacations as a child. You wouldn’t believe some of the places we ended up. Even they (my parents) would arrive there and go, ‘Holy God! It looked better in the magazine.’” – Lewis Black (comedian)
What struck me this time, however, is that sometimes location does matter.
I’m not a travel writer. By most people’s assessment, our family doesn’t go any place that exotic. Someone did tell Sonia that we take interesting trips and I appreciated the sentiment. Sure, we do odd things, but we’re talking odd by “acceptable” standards. We weren’t drinking jack rabbit blood in the Mojave Desert or exploring the Darien Gap between Panama and Colombia.
What I DID on my summer vacation is fairly well documented. Learning is the superior step in the progression. This isn’t meant to teach or moralize necessarily. Some of the things I learned are somewhat important, but others just make me go, “oh.”
Continue reading “Grade School Essay (a.k.a. What I Learned on My Summer Vacation)”
I considered coating myself in olive oil so I could be nice and crispy on the outside, while still cooking through completely. Thankfully it didn’t come to that.
Phooey. Drat. Fiddlesticks. Those were Sonia’s words. It would be better for the blog if I don’t print my words. To paraphrase Tim O’brien, we had a detour on the road to Paris. Not awful, but not on the itinerary. Time to devise the infamous back-up plan.
Meanwhile, we bumped into our NJ friends, and they weren’t doing so hot. Victoria looked like ten pounds of shit stuffed in a five pound bag (I stole that line from a book entitled Running with the Buffaloes, and wish I could use it with greater frequency).
I woke up at 2:45 AM to the smell of BBQ, which is not a great thing BEFORE sunrise at a national park. I took a stroll through the campground to make sure that we weren’t on the menu for later in the morning.
We kind of descended upon my in laws’ house like a traveling band of gypsies. I know they were happy to have everyone, but unless you are used to 2 junior high boys and two very active girls (our niece is ten), it’s kind of a shock to the system.
Andrew got pissed. Andrew let me know that we had one job to do – out hike the Montana yuppies at all cost. Andrew and I “speed hiked” the entire return trip. We passed them up, and the man then tried to keep up with us. We left him in our dust. It doesn’t matter ethnicity, gender, or other background. A spoilt brat is spoilt brat, and that guy deserved a paddling.
Continue reading “Arizona, Part II: Hiking Yuppies are Evil”
