During the heyday of the Tucson roller skating scene there were 3 Skate Country venues in town. Unfortunately the economy and demand for recreational roller skating dropped precipitously recently and only 1 Skate Country remains in town. Thankfully everyone who has ever stepped skate in more than one Skate Country knows they are all almost identical inside (with the location of the DJ booth being the notable exception). So I felt right at home in the venue on 22^nd Street despite spending most of my skating years in the location on Stone (R.I.P.).

Admission during the 2 hour free skate we chose was $3 and there was an additional $4 per person rental fee if you do not bring your own skates. So, for $7 each we got unlimited wheeled fun (for 2 hours). When you think about it, $7 is actually a fantastic bargain when it comes to ways to humiliate yourself. I remember gliding around the rink in my slither shoes back in the day thinking all the ladies must be staring at me. Unfortunately, hindsight gives me confidence that they actually were…only not to ogle my grace on wheels or how my sweet red short-shorts hugged my buttocks. Rather they were probably getting a good chuckle as I cavorted around the rink thinking I was God’s gift to wheeled footwear.

So, this afternoon I laced up my pre-moistened skates with a little trepidation. It had been years since I last tried to skate and I not only didn’t want to embarrass myself, but I did not want to land violently on one of the children I am legally bound to protect.

My family just prior to skating. As you can see, their corneas had already sensed danger and gone to seek shelter.

As the afternoon wore on, I realized I needn’t be too worried. Karina and I spent practically the full two hours trying to keep our two daughters upright. Each of us would hold either Lynsey’s or Alyson’s hand as we accompanied them around the rink. Ashton had gone once before and felt far more confident on wheels to the point that he was fine falling down repeatedly on his own. I do sorta joke about that. Ashton actually did a great job considering it was his second time out. He even participated in the race. Poor guy fell down several times and the whole crowd was cheering for him to finally cross the finish line. Which he did crawling (partly as a joke). Serious father moment: I was super proud of him for racing in the first place but sticking it out to finish even though he was nowhere close to winning.

Karina did watch all of the kids at one point to allow me a solo lap of the rink. It had been a while since I’d been out there and it came back fairly naturally. However, my comeback was hampered with the fact that I choose skates about as well as I choose shopping carts at Wal-Mart. As demonstrated in the picture below, my right skate was just fine but the left skate had a mind of it’s own.

A mind that apparently kept thinking “must leave the rink!”

My particular footwear was the skating equivalent of this:

One of the more harrowing experiences came when Alyson informed me she had to go to the bathroom. Helping an independent toddler use the restroom is difficult enough. Doing it when you are on 16 wheels between the two of you ups the level of difficulty to nearly “brain surgery”.

All in all the kids had a blast and made great strides in their comfort on the skates by the time we left. Lynsey even decided she wants her next birthday party (in one year and 4 days) to be held at Skate Country.

A few random notes:

1. Favorite moment with Lynsey. The picture below was taken literally right after she said “I think I’m getting the hang of it [skating]”. You can’t make this up.

This picture appears to depict a knight of some sort. Perhaps a knight defending the Kingdom of Rad.

This however was my favorite part of the mural.

Referee Mario Lopez gleefully says “Foul”!

 At first I wasn’t impressed with this image of a clearly talented referee. But then I looked closer and began to see the subtle nuances of the painting and the story the artist was clearly trying to tell. For example, it took me a while to figure out what gender the skater is. The body clearly appears to be female but the strong jawline hints at a man. Then it hit me. The artist chose to portray this ambiguity so that anyone viewing the portrait can relate to the image. Ladies will see a female, men will see a male, and skating referees who don’t have time to look where they are skating will see one of their own.

The second aspect of this portrait that hints at the artist’s genius is the right ankle. As you can see, the ankle crosses over part of the wall. From various angles this can lead to a distorted view of the ankle. I think this distortion is exactly what the muralist was going for. It must reflect the compound ankle fractures that are most likely a daily occurrence at the rink.

As it sounded like fun to an avid reader like myself and because we figured we should encourage positive things like a love of reading in our children (even if it means booking weekends years from now for chess tournament travel) we headed out Sunday afternoon.

The festival turned out to be huge! Nearly the entire University of Arizona mall was covered in vendor tents. There were some bigger names like Bookman’s and the Arizona Daily Star but there were also a lot of tents for little known authors who were trying to sell their Arizona based mystery books. I didn’t realize how many people actually get their books published. At the festival you could buy an array of books from “Murder in Benson” to “The Great Wilcox Grand Theft Auto” to “Public Indecency in Safford”. Of course all of those titles were made up by me, but I think the safe money is one on of them actually being a title at next year’s book fair.

In addition to book sellers, authors, and publishers, there were plenty of political themed tents and petitions like “keep the F-35 out of Tucson” and “no more high rises” (I couldn’t figure out why a city like Tucson with approximately zero high rises needed less). We walked right next to a group surrounding a man with a large “Recall Brewer” sign and petitions to sign (I assume with the intent of recalling Governor Brewer). It took every bit of restraint I had to not walk up to him and say “you’ve misspelled reelect sir”. Karina was even encouraging it. However, I figured a college campus filled with librarians was the last place I should be revealing my conservative principles. So in a seamless effort to blend in, I started chanting “raise my taxes NOW” and “Electric vehicles are totally worth the premium and hassle of a limited driving range” as I walked by.

I wish I had thought to take pictures of the festival but I did not have enough foresight. Karina did take one and I’ve shamelessly stolen it for use in my blog.

Despite the lack of photographs it’s not hard to imagine the ambience though. I liken it to being in a library without the compulsion to whisper or feelings of embarrassment for standing in front of the picture book section for too long (is that just me?).

After walking through about half of the festival we decided to call it a day and head home. Alyson was getting grumpy due to all of the walking. Considering how far we went, I don’t blame her. To her little legs we walked an equivalent adult-leg distance of the Boston marathon.

Plus I was getting stressed trying to keep my older daughter Lynsey fracture-free. Lynsey (I love her with every bit of my heart, including both ventricles) has the God given grace of a gazelle…afflicted with Parkinson’s Disease…with a wounded leg… being incessantly tazed. To make matters even worse, she was wearing heelies which will no doubt be the direct cause of at least three Emergency Room visits in the near future. For those of you who are not aware of heelies, they are shoes with a skate wheel on the heel as it is obvious that the 4 wheels on a regular pair of skates are far too stable. Despite Lynsey’s lack of coordination and possession of death shoes, for some reason we thought it would be a good idea to let her buy a sun umbrella with her own money. My little uncoordinated ball of energy running around a huge crowd of people thrusting about a 3 foot diameter impaling device…great thinking us.

Next year I’m hoping to go on the first day of the festival. Over the course of the festival many authors came to speak and it would be neat to actually meet an author of one of my favorite books (like Picturebooks Presents: Trains are Big!). Until then I’ll gas up the van and get my encouraging chess tournament signs ready to go (“Pawn”ish Him Ashton!).

This trend has really led me to ponder the absurdity that is “celebrity” in our culture. It has been discussed numerous other places, but we really do idolize people for the wrong reasons (except sports stars, they totally deserve millions of dollars and adulation for being able to jump high). I’m sure you can think of several examples of people who are famous despite a glaring lack of anything resembling legitimate talent (and I would love to hear your suggestions in the comments). Here are two that stick out to me, each representing an entire group of “celebrities”:

1. Action star who, despite a complete lack of acting skill, has somehow made a career as an actor.

This group of people includes Steven Segal, Jean Claude Van Damme, Mr. Bean, Arnold Schwarzenegger. I know I am putting my very existence in peril by stating this, but a perfect representative of this group is Chuck Norris. Have you ever actually sat down to watch his “acting” on Walker Texas Ranger? Well, I have made the mistake of doing so and immediately regretted it (I am however thinking of keeping reruns to use as punishment for when my kids act up – does anyone know if this violates and child abuse laws?). Let’s just say that Chuck Norris will never have to use his martial arts experience to fend off overly aggressive Academy Award presenters.

Now, some of you may actually have lives and are therefore unaware of Mr. Norris. Although I highly doubt that considering you are spending time reading this (note to self: remove this last line before publishing. Research indicates insulting your audience actually hurts your chance of building their loyalty). He just happens to be the star of numerous action film classics such as Forced Vengeance, Slaughter in San Francisco, Missing in Action, and Total Gym infomercials. All of the above can be found on the WB between the hours of midnight and 4 am.

If his name is still not sounding familiar, I’ve provided a picture of him below (with a few key “Norrisian” features called out).

And when I say “picture”, I mean “my drawing of a picture.”  Normally I would paste in an actual picture. However, I have it on good authority that, to Chuck Norris, there are only two unforgiveable trespasses: the shedding of innocent blood and copyright infringement. To avoid receiving a roundhouse kick as punishment for the second infraction I recreated an image of his head. I’ve added the body (including an armless gi) to capture all of his hairy, muscular glory

1. The second class of “celebrity” is pretty girls who haven’t done anything of note. I could have easily made Paris Hilton the poster child of this group but she is so 2008. To remain current and edgy, I have chosen Kim Kardashian. Who is she? Why, this drawing of a picture should help ring a bell:

Don’t get me wrong, Kim Kardashian is an amazingly beautiful woman. I feel my picture really captures this natural beauty. At this point many of you may be asking “David, how are you able to so accurately capture the essence of your subjects in the pencil medium?” To that I say “Pencil medium?! I don’t speak Spanish. In English the adjectives go BEFORE the noun they are moderating. And I don’t use medium pencils, I prefer large.” Were you to ask how I draw so good, I’ve laid out my simple three step process below:

1. Envision the subject in your mind
2. Grab a pencil and set it lightly against the paper
3. Continue to sniff pepper until the uncontrollable sneezing begins

Back to the subject at hand: Paris and Kim are famous for nothing other than their last names. Somehow they’ve turned that fame into millions of dollars (which actually is a pretty amazing talent if you think about it).

It’s pretty sad that young kids idolize these men and women when there are many, many, many other people who deserve respect and admiration. Here are just a few people more deserving of the attention (and subsequent paparazzi stalking):

1. Kindergarten teachers. These miracle workers somehow turn a group of 20 5 year-old disorganized baby humans into an attentive group of first graders. And they do it in only 9 months! Voodoo I tell you.
2. Janitors: Many of us who work in office buildings take for granted empty garbage cans and pristine toilet seats. I can only imagine what had to be removed from the trash can and scraped off the toilet seat to get them that way. Much props.
3. Soldiers: Risking their life to ensure I have the freedom to post thoughts like this. Enough said.

I’d love to hear some folks you feel should be featured on the cover of magazines at the store over pseudo celebrities.

Due to a few recent instances of folks coming across my references to them in my blogs, I had originally planned to switch things up a bit. I don’t believe I’ve written anything terribly offensive about anyone, but I want to avoid even the notion that I am writing about someone intentionally behind their back. So, going forward my plan was to write about people in uber-generic terms to preclude the possibility of anyone identifying themselves in my blogs. I ran this idea by a person who may or may not be my wife and he/she didn’t object.

For example, before I may have said something like “and then Sally Jenkins walked out of the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to her shoe. She must have been (dingle)very embarrassed!” That same event description will now go something like “a person did something unintentional and I witnessed it. They must have been (dingle)very embarrassed!” You as the reader may be asking if I am concerned as to what impact this tactic will have on my blog’s readability. Yes, yes I am. I hope it gives it some.

If you are looking forward to this new plan of censorship, I am going to have to disappoint you.  It will not be implemented until the near future. In this writeup, I shall name names! Primarily because everyone involved was warned a blog was inevitable, and secondarily because everyone on the trip was incredible. With the exception of someone I will, in an effort to preserve their anonymity, refer to only as Nordan Jolan. Mr. Jolan, despite several warnings that his exploits would be written for all of the world to see (and by “all of the world” I am referring to you and my mom) continued to taunt and harass me for reasons you will soon see (Assuming you continue to read this entry…that’s called a teaser!). As a result, I told Jordan Nolan…err….I mean Nordan Jolan (ooops…almost let the cat out of the bag on that one) I would have my revenge in my blog. One possible method of revenge I thought about was to use his name as a surrogate for bodily excretions. For example: “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you, I just dropped an enormous Nordan Jolan.” But no, I shall refrain as I am much to classy to resort to those kind of underhanded tactics!

Of course I jest, the whole missions team (including Jordan Nolan) was great! There were ten of us in total: Dan and Erica Farmer, Tina and Shawn Chaput, Erik Olson, Sydney Cope, Kristy Debaun, Mark Vanderlee, Jordan Nolan, and myself. I had a blast over 4 days with each of them as it is clear that everyone has an awesome heart for God and to serve others. And to top things off, everyone was a pleasure to be around (even as the time between showers grew longer and longer).

For those unaware of the trip, we were heading to downtown Los Angeles to work in Skid Row for a few days. Due to the unpredictability of the situation and the drug problem in the area, I knew there was a small element of danger to contend with. And I did indeed encounter danger as I had probably my two closest scrapes with death during the trip, both of which occurred on the freeway traveling to our destination. Were it not for your prayers for our safety, our trip could have certainly ended up resulting in a skid on the road (subtle play on words). However our driver Dan Farmer should consider a career change to stunt driving. Not only did he steer us out of those situations, but he somehow managed to squeeze a 12 passenger van into some openings I would have heretofore thought impossible without the aid of a shrink ray. I could tell Dan enjoys driving the harrowing California freeways because he told me so (and there was also the mischievous smile he maintained the entire time he drove).

This picture adequately captures my view in the van for the 4 day trip. It does not adequately capture the…errr….ummm…fragrance that resulted towards the end of our (single-shower allowed) week. Just kidding companions, you did not smell!

This was my view to the left. I wish I can say he wasn’t staring like that the whole trip, but I choose not to.

We made it safely to our destination on Thursday afternoon. We were staying at the Center for Student Missions (CSM) building in South Los Angeles. Of course, South Los Angeles is the more tourist friendly nickname adopted by the city as a replacement for it’s previous title: South Central Los Angeles. I found this out after submitting my nonrefundable deposit.

Thankfully I am a human chameleon. A master of disguise if you will and figured I would just have to blend in with the urban population. I would just have to dust off my old “street” vocabulary and practice greeting strangers with phrases like: “greetings my homey? Would you care to join me in a rousing match of gat shooting over yonder?” The CSM building was nearly as adaptable as I am and featured some legitimate looking graffiti which said “Did you know you are free in Christ”. I thought that was very cool.

And, despite the sleeping arrangements being in a rough part of town, at least it was directly across the road from train tracks.

View from the door to the housing showing the proximity of a passing train.

The CSM building can best be described as “functional”. There is a large meeting room with a few couches and the majority of the remaining space is for two large sleeping areas: 1 for guys and 1 for girls. Each sleeping area is filled with wooden bunk beds. I wasn’t expecting the Ritz-Carlton by any means (and frankly I wouldn’t want CSM using their funds for our comfort anyway – especially after visiting the people we visited on the trip) and the reality was in-line with this. The mattresses were most likely donated (ie. looked very used) and as I was a result I was forced to get over a few of my germ-related phobias. Someone in our group was gracious enough to bring up the ideas of bedbugs (I will not say who brought this up but the safe money is on Nordan) which did wonders for our sleep (sarcasm) and amplified every little itch we felt (no sarcasm). The more I thought about it the more comfortable I became as I assumed the vast quantities of ammonia present in the urine on the mattresses probably killed any bedbugs. Once the lights went out though, I slept like a baby. And by that I mean intermittently as there were at least two impressive snorers in our room. Thankfully I brought my earplugs which did wonders.

Sleeping arrangements for the dudes.

Most of the things I described above (which are really no worse than minor inconveniences) probably don’t even register with most of the people doing missions work with CSM as the majority of people are middle or high schoolers (thus explaining the “Student” reference in CSM’s name). Our group, consisting of a single high schooler and 9 people who hadn’t set foot in a high school since last century, stuck out a bit. I will give Nordan credit for a very humorous observation when he pointed out that, to all of the kids, our group “looked like lectures.” While the other ministry teams were playing games and goofing around, our group spent a good half hour discussing our fondness for Costco and incorporating coupons into budgets (that is the literal truth).

My last observation in regards to the housing unit has to do with the restrooms. There were 4 restrooms total to handle the various “needs” of a good 30-40 people. This made time in the restroom a premium and people were routinely doubling-up when brushing teeth and such. I received a good amount of ribbing for time spent in the restroom preparing for the day. Some of us (cough…Nordan…cough) assumed this was a camping trip and therefore brought only a dress shirt for church and flint for making fire. Knowing we were sleeping in beds and utilizing restrooms, I brought my regular toiletries. I was mocked fairly incessantly for my hygiene regimen with the terms “astringent”, “exfoliate”, “loofa”, “product”, and “cucumber mask” being used well into the triple figures. And while most of those were extreme exaggerations (I will not deny that a little astringent may have made it’s way into my bag) it is important to apply skin moisturizer regularly to lengthen the life of your skin. I will have the last laugh in 10 years when my facial skin is still baby smooth and Nordan is indistinguishable with the Marlboro Man or a leather wallet.

And, despite bringing half of my bathroom with me, I also did “rough it” a little as well. The mirror height was clearly optimal for middle schoolers but, when I used it standing up, I had an excellent view of my shoulders to my hips. While doing my hair in the mornings (with hair gel that Nordan ended up borrowing – I love poetic justice) I was forced to spread my legs out like an awkward giraffe at a watering hole.

Alright, enough observations on the CSM building. You are asking, what did we do? A lot as it turned out!

Our first night in we went out as a group to a Honduran restaurant. I was very nervous about trying new foods as I can be pretty picky. However, the food turned out to be AMAZING!! It was a beef dish called “Wednesday” for the day it is on special. That is all I know except that I loved it and everyone else seemed to enjoy their dinner as well.

The Honduran delicacy known as “Wednesday”.

After dinner, we took a prayer tour of the area. Our CSM host Jennifer showed us several points of interest in South Los Angeles including one of the largest housing projects in the country and a charter school doing some amazing things to help educate the area’s youth. We learned about how kids in the area are routinely recruited by gangs when they are as young as 8 years old. We stopped and prayed in the area for the city and youth and for entities like the charter school and education system to help kids break some of the cycles in the area.

We then drove through Skid Row at night. It was very sobering to see all of the tents pitched on the street and then to drive only a few blocks away and find ourselves in the financial district, near the Staples center, and the ESPN Studios (which we did NOT pray over for the record…despite my requests). Our CSM host directed us to some water gardens located under a huge skyscraper in downtown. It was a very neat area. She had us lay down and pray for the people and area we just saw. Laying down to pray was a very interesting experience as it is unusual, uncomfortable, cold, and some folks mentioned it made them feel vulnerable. And this was just a taste of what the people living on skid row experience all night every night.

After that, it was time for bed as we had a very early morning (leaving at 5:30!). Of course, waking up early is something our group is probably more comfortable with than for the high schoolers. Because we are old.

Our Friday morning activity was to help serve breakfast at the Midnight Mission located on Skid Row. We came in through the parking garage and were thus unable to see how many people line up for the breakfast. But, seeing as we served about 800 people, it must have been a formidable line. The breakfast had already been prepared by folks who start cooking at 1 in the morning. Each of us had a spot in the serving line. I was responsible on one side for serving the muffins and, in addition, there was French toast and syrup, bacon, oatmeal, fruit cups, and the beverage (7Up or Sprite). Disabled folks were brought in first to eat (and were also given Orange Juice). After they were done, the lines were opened and homeless folks poured in to get their food.

This was my first encounter working with homeless folks and it was eye opening. Some looked like I thought they would, but many did not. There were all manner different ethnicities, ages, and genders (ok, so by “all manner” I mean both in this case) represented. Many of the people were genuinely happy which really put things into perspective for me. Some didn’t want to look me in the eye and it made my heart break to think of how it must hurt their pride to wait in line for a free meal with 799 other people.

I really enjoyed talking to some of the people who were coordinating the meal. It is our feeling that they were participants in the Midnight Mission’s rehabilitation program and therefore used to be on the streets themselves. They were fun to work with and hardcore about getting people in and out efficiently.

After everyone in line was fed (which can get up to almost 1,200 people on some days it sounds like) we sat down to eat some of the food we were serving. It was pretty darn good! There was a carton of grapefruit juice that I happily poured a drink from not realizing it was straight grapefruit juice (with possibly some extra sour added for good measure). Yowza! I think I sprouted three additional chest hairs by the time the drink was finished (bringing my total to a respectable 4).

We then headed over to the LA Mission which was very close. Also located on skid row it is a Christian organization working to rehabilitate homeless folks. There are about 200 people in their 14 month program that uses routine, responsibility, and God’s Word to get folks off of drugs and ready to get jobs when they leave. People have to apply to get in and, once accepted, are held to very high standards (drug tested twice per week randomly and lose their spot in the program if they test positive at all). We met a woman named Sheila who had some tasks for us to help with. She took the ladies to help fold laundry and the guys were driven to the LA Mission’s warehouse a few blocks away. We were introduced to Alex, the warehouse manager who needed our help sweeping and mopping his warehouse so he could pass fire inspection. We talked with Alex as we worked and found out he had an awesome story. He got into drugs in his late 20’s and found himself on the streets. He joined the LA Mission program and graduated back in 1996. He is now managing their warehouse. We were all amazed to learn that he had been on the streets at any point. Both he and Sheila were amazing folks who were serving God enthusiastically and joyfully. They were awesome inspirations and I hope we were able to help and encourage them while we were there.

Most of the guys from our group with Alex in the middle. Nordan was taking the picture.

After our chores were done, we were given a tour of skid row by a guy named John who was the alumni president of the LA Mission. He knew everybody on the streets it seemed and had built a good reputation there. He walked us around a few blocks pointing out some interesting things, like how there are $2,000 artist lofts located right on skid row that are a hot commodity. He also showed us the medical and dental center where homeless folks can receive medical attention by UCLA and USC medical students and interns. He also pointed out the people waiting at the exit to try and buy drugs off of folks who receive prescriptions at the medical center.

It was encouraging on one hand to see that the folks on Skid Row are being served. They can get food when they need it from the missions. Medical and Dental (and even legal) help is provided by volunteers. But it was also reiterated over and over by John and others that the main problem facing the folks on Skid Row was drug addiction and mental illness. These are huge problems and it was heartbreaking to see the homeless folks battling one or both of these conditions. It was also awesome to see guys like John who were on the streets and who now dedicate their lives to knowing and helping others on the streets. More than that, they are bringing the only real solution to the folks who need Him: Jesus.

After the LA Mission, we headed over to the Los Angeles Food Bank to volunteer for a few hours (very active day!). We learned about how the food bank operates and how it helps people through a short video starring Elmo. As we were visiting on a Friday our task was to help go through crates and crates of food determining what was still good to be served next week and what had to be thrown away.

Nordan and Dan Farmer laying eggs…into the trash can.

Using my highly refined price-tag recognition skills I was able to ascertain that much of the food we were going through was provided by Wal-Mart. Of course 99% of the food was past it’s expiration date but the Food Bank had a guide showing how long after expiration they keep the foods. For example, breads were kept 2 weeks after expiration, Milk and eggs were 3-5 days, and things like canned food (assuming it wasn’t dented) and soda were kept indefinitely. This was eye-opening and I regret not taking the list home to use in my own home!! Despite the fact that the food bank would keep food for extended periods after expiration, we still had to throw away A LOT of food. It was sad dumping hundreds of pounds of food knowing people are hungry. Thankfully there are programs like the food bank and missions making use of a lot of the food.

Speaking of missions, someone made the connection that the food we ate that morning and for lunch at the missions no doubt came from the food bank. I was just glad to have found this out after sorting the food as I was previously an expiration date eliminator with no exceptions. I would have been a little nervous knowing I was eating food that was weeks past it’s “best by” date.

Group photo at the food bank (from left to right: our group)

Our final activity of the day was dinner. This time were taken to a Nicaraguan restaurant. I did not think the food could get any better than the “Wednesday” I enjoyed at the Honduran restaurant, but I was happily surprised! The food here was incredible! I had a chicken dish served with plantains and “Squeaky” cheese.

My Nicaraguan dish.

The only thing that could have been better would be an even creepier doll to stare at. In the corner of the restaurant was something I can only describe as “this”:

Dan and Erica graciously framing the doll so I could take a picture of it without blatantly walking up to it.

Is there anything freakier than that?! Well, except maybe this:

For the life of me I could not figure out that doll’s purpose. I imagine the owner thinking to himself: “Hmmmm….I need something to make my customers feel at ease. Perhaps a nice tranquil painting of a secluded pond and a waterfall? No. I’ll take THAT THING!!”

This picture shows when we finally got the nerve to approach the doll thing. As you can see, Sydney was still slightly traumatized. (From left to right: Jennifer, Mark, Tina, Dan, Sydney, Shawn, Kristi, Jordan, Erica, Erik)

We got a good night of sleep that evening and headed out the next morning around 9:30 to participate in the “City Search”. This was the activity I was most intimidated by. We were broken up into groups of 3 or 4 and given a set of tasks to perform within a maybe 10-15 square block area of downtown Los Angeles.

The two guys I was partnered up with. Great. This should go well.

The tasks were designed to get us to think about how difficult it would be to live in downtown LA (whether you were homeless or not). For example, we had to look for water to fill up a water bottle (incredibly difficult as it turns out), ask about employment at three businesses, find out how much it is to rent a loft, and inquire about the cost to rent a room for a night at the famous Biltmore hotel. These tasks really emphasized how hard it would be to find a place to live, get employment, and even just get a drink of water downtown.

The most intimidating aspect was finding strangers and opening a discussion. We had to look for a native Los Angelan, a tourist, and a homeless person to ask 6 questions. Some of the questions had to do with what they liked most and least about LA and led to asking who they though Jesus Christ was/is and what he would do about the homeless. Finally, we were given $4 each for lunch and an additional $4 to find a homeless person to take to lunch and ask the questions to. If my comfort zone were represented by the playing field at the University of Arizona football stadium, this task had me in Paris.

It is amazing how many excuses you will find to not walk up to a stranger and invite them to lunch. I struggled with judging whether someone needed a lunch or not (who am I to guess that?) and whether they were a good candidate to ask (ie. Were they alone? Did they appear to speak English, etc.). Our group finally got the courage to ask a few guys and the remarkable thing was, when asked if they wanted lunch, most of the guys said that, more than anything, they just wanted some water. One guy did accept our invite so we bought him a burger and tried to talk with him a bit. I felt so bad because we couldn’t understand more than a few words of what he was saying so we couldn’t really hold a conversation.

On our way back to the rendezvous, we ran into another guy panhandling. We asked if he wanted a lunch and his response cracked me up. He said “I’ve been eating pretty well lately actually, but I’ll take a milkshake”. We ran to McDonald’s and brought it back to him and struck up a conversation. This guy (Brian) was in his early 50’s and had been on the streets since 2002. I gathered there was some mental illness as he alluded to it briefly. He had tried to get accepted at a rehabilitation program run by a mission but said that, if he was able to keep up with all of the appointments he had to follow, etc. he’d just have a job. We talked to him a bit about who Jesus was and hopefully planted a seed. If you think about it, please keep Brian and the first gentleman we talked to (Joseph) in your prayers (for their safety and getting back on their feet).

Once we all rendezvoused, our guide took us to the Grandview Retirement home. There we ran bingo for the residents (who took their Bingo seriously in some cases!). We met some very cool people there and hopefully facilitated them having fun for 2 hours.

Our last ethnic meal was at an Armenian restaurant. I had the beef schwarma. Apparently this type of food was very similar to Greek food, but I hadn’t really tried Greek food before. I thought the Armenian food was delicious though. I was so nervous about trying the food on this trip and yet each dish was better than the next!

Partially eaten schwarma. I forgot to take a picture before I began devouring it.

Our last event was a debrief that was supposed to happen at the Griffith Observatory. As it turns out, the Griffith Observatory is a popular hangout spot on Saturday nights. We drove and drove looking for parking (finally finding some literally miles away). A few members of the group decided to try to find a nice view of the Los Angeles Valley by climbing a hill. They determined the view was satisfactory and told us all to come up. Well, little did we know, there weren’t even any stairs! All 11 of us (with our CSM host included) had to scale a very steep hill passing through foliage I was sincerely hoping was not poison ivy. The view we found was incredible though.

“Yay! We are still alive!”

We prayed over the city and for the people we met and then headed back. I wanted so badly to find some sort of a wild animal sound to play through my phone as we tromped around in the wilderness. Something for the group to remember me by, you know? AT&T’s 3G service could use some improvements on the mountain though and my evil plan did not come to fruition.

Our last day featured an activity I was really looking forward to: a visit to the worship service at West Angeles Church of God in Christ. This primarily African-American church is located on Crenshaw Blvd and is enormous! The sanctuary seats about 5,000 people and they have a membership of about 22,000 (including Magic Johnson and Denzell Washington – this according to Wikipedia).

I had an awesome time at the church. The people there were incredibly welcoming and they know how to worship! One of their songs at one point says, “dance” and did that church dance! It was awesome. I would have participated but my dancing is less a pleasing sight to the Lord as it is a call for emergency services to assist the guy having a seizure. The Bishop preached an encouraging sermon and some people were saved. It was a great experience to see how others worship.

Us all gussied up in front of the cathedral.

The church was our last formal activity and so we headed back to the housing building and packed up in about 18 minutes, ensuring to leave the traditional graffiti before we left. Actually, the graffiti wasn’t done in 18 minutes. We had done it the night before (that’s how adults roll! Preparation!)

Door art signed by myself, Sydney, Kristi, Eglotu, Soopytr, and 6 doctors.

Me putting the final touches on my modernistic masterpiece capturing the plight of urban youth I’ve titled: “Nordan was on the bathroom floor.”

Overall the trip was a great experience. It was a little different than what I envisioned, but it was awesome in it’s own way. Hopefully we were able to encourage the folks working at the missions who are on the streets everyday building relationships and sharing about Christ. I also pray we make a difference in the lives of the homeless folks we talked to personally and that we planted a seed for them accept Jesus if they don’t already know Him. If you think about it, please pray for the people living on the streets in (and in Tucson). That they would overcome the addictions that are preventing them from getting back on their feet. Please pray for the mothers and fathers in South LA to step up and be positive influences in their kid’s lives so the children are grounded when the gang members come around to recruit. And, if you ever get the chance to take this trip or to even help out locally, please jump at the chance. There are moments that are uncomfortable and things that we are normally not comfortable doing, but not only are you helping people in need like Jesus asks us to do in Matthew 25:45, you’ll grow your self and develop a new perspective on our “problems”.

Again, thanks everyone for your support and prayers!!

After leaving Maui, our ship sailed to the “Big Island”. Around the Hawaiian islands this island is called “Hawaii”, but to avoid confusion with others such as myself, it is referred to as the Big Island. We learned it is the youngest and largest of the islands and is the home of an active volcano. Our first day on the Big Island was on the eastern side in Hilo. This day happened to be Karina’s birthday so we attempted to find a way to fulfill her main goal on the island: visiting a black sand beach. All of the rental cars were booked (unless we wanted to pay $250 for the day at a local rental place) so we found an excursion that was to visit a black sand beach.

The excursion ended up being very fast-paced but extremely fun. It was run by a company called Lobo Del Mar which was comprised of a very gregarious family. I’d recommend their tours to anyone visiting the Big Island in the future. This particular tour took us to places like Rainbow Falls, Volcano Trees Park, and finally a black sand beach (Kaimu). It was gorgeous. Palm trees waving in the wind, the warm Pacific waters lapping and the black sand…that is until 1990 when the entire bay was covered with lava. The new beach is much more…errr…rugged, but still fascinating and beautiful in it’s own scene-of-utter-destruction way.

The beautiful beach at Kaimu before the molten lava

The beach as it looks now…less beautiful and more apocalyptic

As part of the tour, we also learned a little about the city of Hilo Hawaii. This poor town has fought many disasters and managed to survive. From numerous earthquakes and tsunamis to the unthinkable terror of having Rosanne Barr move in. I was hoping to see Roseanne as she would fulfill my quest for seeing a celebrity on the trip but, alas, I was not able to spot her.

Day 5 – Kona 

We had left a few days on our trip open for just exploring and sitting on a beach. One of these days was on Kona. We decided we would rent a couple scooters and try to find a nice sandy beach close by to sit and relax at. Unfortunately, we had no luck finding scooters. There were two companies on the island who rented scooters and one’s reputation (according to the internet and user reviews) was less than stellar (it had about as much credibility as that guy on the street corner selling authentic Bolex watches). We ended up walking to the only other scooter business we could find. Unfortunately, they only had 1 scooter available and it was large enough to require a motorcycle license to rent. While Karina possesses said license, that would mean I would have to ride on the back…of a scooter. While my manly pride (or lack thereof) doesn’t preclude me from drinking blue girly drinks with umbrellas or enjoying a good musical from time to time, I do have standards. So walk we did.

Unfortunately we were unable to find a beach within walking distance so we ate lunch and shopped until it was time to get back on to the tenders which took us to the boat. And wouldn’t you know it, there was a small sandy beach literally feet from where the tenders docked. We were slightly disappointed but then remembered WE WERE IN HAWAII!!

One thing I found interesting was being tenderered between the ship and the island and back on the ship’s lifeboats. I had never been in one before (and hope I never have to be again). The boat had written on the side that it’s capacity was 100 passengers as a tender and nearly 150 as a lifeboat. And, even with just the tender capacity it was crowded and a pretty wild ride on the waves. As we headed back to the ship I started thinking about what would happen if the lifeboat sank and I panicked. We would have no hope! Unless there are even smaller lifeboats in the lifeboat. Despite looking everywhere for said lifeboats (and receiving some odd glances in return) I did not locate them.

When we got back on to the ship we decided to hit the hot tubs. Believe it or not this was the first time we got wet in Hawaii! And “hot” in hot tub was a severe understatement. It was set to approximately “lava” no doubt as a tribute to the volcanically formed islands. Totally relaxed, I enjoyed percolating in the frothy water and using the water jets to clean those normally hard to reach spots between my toes.  The water was kind of frothy for some reason and I did not want to know what mixture of chemicals and human body excretions made it that way. I did immediately shower off after exiting the tub.

General ship notes

In order to avoid this becoming a daily journal, I figured I’d break it up a bit as it where to discuss the ship before going on to our last couple of days. As I noted, the ship was named the Pride of America as everyone knows the pride of our country is not the principles of freedom we are founded on, nor is it any of our beautiful landmarks be they natural or manmade. No, it’s a cruise ship in Hawaii owned by a company named Norwegian cruise line. I was skeptical as to how a Scandinavian country would be able to capture the American essence in a ship, but let me tell you: they nailed it!

The outside of the ship. Even it’s exterior screams “Vee are Proud to Be Americans Ya!” in a Norwegian way.

The centerpiece of the ship was a beautiful sculpture of the Washington monument. Next to it was the seal of America rendered on the marble floor. In the stairwell at each level was a huge portrait of one of our great landmarks or cities (and even some landmarks within cities!). My favorite was this picture of Los Angeles’ Colon Hotel (I hear it stinks in there).

There were two main dining rooms for guests to choose between. The “contemporary” dining room was called “Skyline”. Beings it was contemporary, it was themed after 1920’s New York.

The more formal dining room was called “Liberty” and was themed after…some patriotic stuff I guess. My favorite part of this dining room was it’s sculptures of various American heroes. Namely, this sculpture of Abraham Lincoln gallantly hailing a taxi cab.

Not everything was so obviously American. For example, there was this mural on the outside of the ship that captures the true aloha sprit of the islan….gah!! What is wrong with his thumb?! Good heavens, this must be a futuristic mural depicting residents of the impending zombie apocalypse relaxing by catching some waves.

Finally, there were a couple of unique drawings in the men’s room which I felt were interesting enough to photograph and mention. As you can see, they require no introduction (but an explanation would be nice).

I am really having a hard time determining what aspect of these pictures frightens me the most. No, I think I can narrow it down to the fact that they are peeing milk. 

Ship Entertainment

One piece of the cruise experience I wanted to take part in was watching the onboard comedian. Since our kids weren’t with us, we didn’t have to worry about a little salty language. Throughout the cruise we were informed that the ship was blessed with an award winning comedian. His name was Tim Kaminski and the award he won (and subsequently promotes himself with nonstop) was 2001’s Best Upcoming Comedian awarded by the National Comedy Hall of Fame. “THE Best Upcoming Comedian award?!” you ask incredulously. THE very award won by Bryan Kellen and…I guess some others. Bryan was the only other previous winner I could find using Google. Incidentally, per the National Comedy Hall of Fame’s own website (http://www.comedyhall.com/) it doesn’t even exist yet. But their website describes their plans and what will be included in the hall of fame. Something tells me they will need to update the plans for the “Successful Predictions of Upcoming Comedy Acts” wing.

We missed Mr. Kaminski’s first show earlier in the week but decided to go to the ship’s farewell show which included final performances by both Tim Kaminski and the ship’s guest musical act: Oh What a Night, a Franki Valli tribute.

Tim Kaminski opened the show with his “comedy act”. It was comprised of the bit made famous on Whose Line is it Anyway where an audience member would stand behind Mr. Kaminski and pretend to be his hands while Tim Kaminski narrated the activities. For example, the audience member would have to lather and shave Mr. Kaminksi’s face while Tim talked about his morning routine. Or the audience member would have to mime graciously accepting an award as Tim reiterated the fact that he won 2001’s Best Upcoming Comedian award.

Karina and I ended up enjoying the Franki Valli tribute band even more. Not necessarily because of their talent (which wasn’t bad), but because of how well they got the crowd going. It was then that the true demographic of the ship really sank in (we should have known better when we heard Norwegian’s motto: “You’ll have a swell time – it’s even more fun than a color talkie!” Oh What a Night sang many of Frankie Valli’s hits as well as other songs from the general period (specifically, the olden times period). They even sang one of my favorites, Big Girls Don’t Cry. I bet 30 years from now we will be on a cruise watching a group of people not even born yet singing Black Eyed Peas and Nickelback. Just kidding, nobody would ever put a tribute together for Nickelback. But maybe maroon 5 or something.

The farewell extravaganza concluded as representatives from the whole crew came out to sing “you are Norwegian now”. I knew where and when we were to depart but I had no idea my nationality was going to change. That was not in the brochure! One thing I thought was amusing (And perhaps telling) was how the housekeepers were relegated to the back of the stage. Seriously.

After the song everyone clapped for the captain of the ship who had managed to avoid small Italian islands. The fact that the Captain was onstage didn’t bother me as I am confident he has crew members to cover for him as well as intricate electronic equipment meant to keep the boat safe. However, I became incredibly concerned when I saw all of the chef’s on stage. WHO WAS MAKING THE FOOD?!

Day 6 – Kauai

The last island we were going to his was Karina’s favorite: Kauai. I was also excited because we had a Zip and Splash excursion planned. After confirming with the boat’s guest services that a swimsuit was recommended at the Zip and SPLASH adventure (not one of my finer moments, but hopefully I brightened their day a little) we headed to the rendezvous point. We were met by our excursion leaders Elvis and Noosh. I make it a general rule in life to not put my life in the hands of people named Elvis and/or Noosh but I made an exception in this case. Perhaps it was the air of confidence they exuded…or more likely the fact that excursions are expensive and, even if it meant plunging into a rainforest from hundreds of feet, I was getting my ding-dang money’s worth!

The excursion ended up being a blast. The zip-lining was awesome! We did several lines culminating in one that was 1800 feet long and over 200 feet high. And the scenery was beautiful. My favorite part though was on the drive to the zip lines when we drove by several places featured in films like Six Days Seven Nights and the Descendants (yes, what you are thinking is correct, I walked on dirt that was walked on by THE George Clooney!!). By far the best one was the watering hole from the original Jurassic Park. That movie was one of my biggest influences growing up. I was obsessed with it (which explains my impressive knowledge of Velociraptor facts and my equally impressive lack of girlfriends through most of high school).

(Here we are, all ready to go ziplining! Harness: check! Camera: check! Goofy-looking helmet that would do nothing in the event of a fall from 200 feet: check!)

When we got back to the harbor we rented a car and decided to drive around Kauai. We headed up the east side of the island. As this is the wet side, it had beautiful flora.

We saw the picturesque Hanalei Valley and the beautiful Kiluea Lighthouse. It was at the lighthouse that we saw the following picture below of a bird native to the area:

That magnificent creature is the Red Footed Booby. It appeared to be a beautiful avian specimen. When I saw that picture, I knew that I wanted to feast my eyes on a nice booby while I was still in Kauai. Even better would be spotting a pair of Boobys (or Boobies, not sure of proper grammar as it relates to a booby). I am sad to sad I did not see any boobies in Kaui. I hear they are enormous there.

Day 7 Kauai

Our final day in Kauai was relatively low key. Still having the rental car we drove up the drier west coast of the island, visiting landmarks such as Spouting Horn and Waimea Canyon.

Here we are in front of the Grand Canyon of the Pacific

We had to be back on board early as the last day of the cruise included a close sail-by of the Na Pali coastline. These beautiful cliffs are only accessible by water or hiking trail. I really wish I was looking at them as we sailed by. However, my eyes were clenched in terror thinking about how the last “close pass” by a cruise ship worked out. Thankfully the Norwegians aren’t quite as risky as Italians apparently and we made it back to Honolulu unscathed.

Day 8 – Return Home

Our final day saw us disembarking at 9am. On our way out we said goodbye to our favorite crew member (holla Ember!).

Us and Ember

We then looked to pass time until we had to be at the airport around noon. We found a free shuttle to a local shopping mall where we figured we could finish up our souvenir shopping. I should have remembered what my mom always said about nothing ever being free because the one catch with the shuttle is we “got” to take a free tour of Maui Divers, a local jewelry shop. Is there anything more boring than a jewelry shop tour? I submit there is not! The tour involved walking through the factory as we watched employees assembling and polishing various pieces of jewelry. They looked just about as happy to be there as we were. But at least THEY were being paid! By the time we got to the mall, we had about an hour to shop before needing to head to the airport. Looking back, it would have been just as entertaining and productive to have paid a taxi to drive us in circles in the parking lot.

Here I am eating authentic Hawaiian Shave ice. It was DELICIOUS!! 

We got to the airport in time to find out our flight was delayed. So we sat down to lunch at an airport eatery. It was here that Karina FINALLY got carded while ordering a drink. She was ecstatic. That is until she noticed the button on the waiters vest saying “we card everyone”. Beggars can’t be choosers!

Karina looking ecstatic after being carded by the waiter who would literally get in trouble if he didn’t card everyone

We had an awesome time on the trip overall. It is truly a blessing to have mothers willing to watch the kids for us while we got away. We enjoyed the alone time immensely and were able to do pretty much everything we had set out to do. I even saw a celebrity! Who you ask? None other than Tim Kaminski, 2001’s Best Upcoming Comedian of the year as awarded by the (not yet existing) National Comedy Hall of Fame.

DAY 3 – MAUI

On our first, full official day of the cruise we woke up in the Port of Kahului in Maui. Karina and I were ready to begin our cruise adventures with zest. Each of us had some specific goals in mind for our vacation: Karina wanted to get carded when buying a drink. She also made a promise to herself that she would ONLY use the stairs on the ship. A promise that I wish I was aware was being made at the time. I would have provided some subtle encouragement to bypass that goal (and if that didn’t work, I would have been prepared to beg!). It’s a vacation after all! And her promise to herself was going to directly impact me even though I did not care nearly as much as to whether she let herself down or not.

My goal was originally one-fold: to see a celebrity. I am ashamed to admit it but we do subscribe to possibly more than one celebrity gossip magazines: US Weekly and STAR. Although, let the record state I thought the first magazine was a patriotic tribute to our great country and the latter was an astronomy guide. I was wrong on both accounts. Being as cheap as I am, I would not let those magazines go to waste. So, I page through them periodically (no pun intended) and always run a across a picture or two of celebrities frolicking on a Hawaiian beach. So, I made it my goal to spot a celebrity, preferably frolicking. Once we got on board and looked at the boat’s entertainment schedule, my second goal was made apparent: winning the men’s sexy legs contest! I knew I had one main obstacle between me and my prize: a severe lack of melanin in my legs. I planned to remedy that on the islands.

Exhibit 1: Note 4pm on Day 7

Our plan for the first day on Maui was to rent a car, drive to the little whaling town of Lahaina, rent scooters and tool a round a bit, then visit the world famous Old Lahaina Luau. I had reserved a car through Avis intended just to get us the 30 miles or so from Kahului to Lahaina. As that was all it was to be used for and there were only two of us, I had reserved a small economy car (in the class of a “Nissan Versa” or “golf cart”). When we pulled up into the Avis parking lot the first thing I saw was a line of gleaming Chevrolet Camaros. Figuring I didn’t have much to lose, I asked the lady helping me with my rental what the difference would be to get in to a Camaro. She tinkered around a bit on her computer and finally said it would be about $100 more for the day. Despite being on vacation, I could not stomach the difference and sadly told her that’s ok, I’d be fine with the economy car. She asked me to wait one minute while she did one more investigation. Sure enough, she “discovered” she could get me in a brand new Chevrolet Camaro SS convertible for $2 less than I was going to pay for the Versa/Segway class of car. Trying to play it cool I said: “hmmmm, you drive a tough bargain, I guess I will take you up on your generous offer.” After we walked out of the building I calmly informed Karina that this was the BEST VACATION EVER!! Let my experience go to show you that 1.) it never hurts to ask for something and 2.) the lady I dealt with was a dirty stinkin’ liar originally, but soon proved herself to be the best stinkin’ lady on earth (besides my wife).

The car was amazing. Cherry red, giant 6.2L 426hp engine, paddle shifters on the steering wheel. It was crazy fast….I hear. Unfortunately the vast majority of island roads had a speed limit of 35 miles per hour. Let me tell you, I got up to 35 in a hurry!! I only wish there was a Hawaiian autobahn (or autokilimakihunowali as it would probably be called). The car was so nice in fact, we began to second guess our decision to rent scooters. Why pay for scooters when we had a sweet ride already? That and I began to reconsider riding around scooters without helmets. I felt hypocritical based on the instructions I give my kids on their bicycles. I could have rented a helmet of course but that didn’t have the same “cool” vibe being radiated from the Camaro. So, we passed on the scooter rentals.

 Here’s me in said Camaro

Lahaina was a cute little down with some quaint shops. We ate at a little crepe restaurant off the beach a bit. The lime crepe I got was spectacular! It was made by a real Frenchman! Or a dude with a French accent at least. We did a little more exploring in the Camaro and headed over to the luau.

Here we are hiking to Honolua Bay. Part of the “more exploring” we did.

The luau was one of the big vacation must-do’s for Karina. She wanted a taste of the authentic Hawaiian culture as performed by Americans to a giant group of tourists. And when I say giant, I mean several hundred. It was packed.

I must say, the experience was very eye-opening. I learned so much about the traditional luau experience. For example, it was expensive. Thankfully the luaus apparently had an open bar to allow the patrons to attempt to get their money’s worth from the experience by ingesting as much liquor as possible. Second, the first hour or so of the traditional luau involved milling around with complete strangers. We took the opportunity to enjoy the beach views, saunter over to the artisans creating sculptures from wood, and peering at the sand pit within which our feast was cooking. The remaining 50 minutes were spent at the table people watching.

At the luau. From left to right: Karina, absolutely no idea, David

The second hour of the luau is my favorite! Unlimited food! We enjoyed some fresh-made pulled pork, Taro salad, Poi, and other foods. It was great. And served in the traditional fashion: dismissing folks table by table to get in line at the buffet.

The third hour was the one Karina enjoyed most. It was the hula show! I’ve embedded some video below. However, knowing some people are offended by exposed midriffs, I have tastefully edited the videos for family viewing:

What was my opinion of the dancing? Excellent question. I thought the dancers were incredibly talented. The music was cool as well. However, the point of the luau is the dancers were telling a story through dance. This is the part that escaped me. As with our viewing of La Reve in Vegas, I just don’t get the whole interpretive dance thing. One specific example had to do with the daughter of a god or something whose boyfriend was horribly burned. To convey her feelings, she shakes her hips in multiple ways. I would say personally that would be response 3 or 4 for me if someone important to me was burned. I would have followed along MUCH better if, instead of the whole dance thing, she ran around with her arms in the air screaming “MY BOYFRIEND WAS JUST HORRIBLY BURNED!!!” I could follow that.

DAY 4 – MAUI

For our second day in Maui we had our first planned, boat-coordinated excursion. As if vowing to herself to not ride an elevator on the boat was not enough, Karina also stipulated we must take a very active excursion involving 2 out of 3 of the following: sweating, panting in exhaustion, swimming. So our first excursion was called the “Waterfalls & Rainforest Hike”. Karina chose it because the description said things like “The hike is two miles round trip and footing can be tricky in the wilderness”. Additionally the hike was rated a “3” on the boat’s activity scale. The “3″ rating was described as such: “Tours with this physical activity level involve physical exertion for extended periods. The terrain may be uneven or steep…Recommended only for the physically fit and adventurous.”

For the reasons listed above, I was looking forward to this vacation activity about as much as I’d look forward to a root canal. However, I thought I’d go along for the ride and have fun. I had visions of rappelling down cliffs and scaling high mountains.

When we showed up at the designated rendezvous point I was immediately concerned. It was clear my fellow excursioners hadn’t undergone the rigorous training I had in preparation for the experience. I thought to myself: “they are gonna be sorry…sorry AND sore.” Turns out I was the one in for a surprise. We were driven out to the site by our guide Roger who was actually quite informative. I saw all manner of folks taking a wide clear path as our guide led us along a narrow path into the “jungle”. It did not take a cartography expert to realize we were being led on the long way as demonstrated by this illustration:

Where A is our van, B is the route we took and C is the waterfall-fed lagoon. You’ll notice the short, straight path leading directly to the lagoon from the van. Apparently Roger did not.

Roger kept pointing out cool plants, such as bananas and pineapples then hurrying to let us know the ones we were looking at were probably planted there (as opposed to naturally growing there). As we walked out we saw the big M. Night Shayamalan reveal: we were on some dudes farm the whole time. I should have put the pieces together: private property, neat lines of pineapples, etc. So you are telling me I paid an amount of dollars I am not willing to share to be able to walk in circles on some dudes farm looking at many plants that aren’t even indigenous to the area? Say what?! Not the exotic locale I was hoping for. This is like offering a tour showcasing Sonoran desert wildlife and then going to the Tucson zoo. Sure, polar bears are nice to look at but they aren’t native to the area. Why would I want to look at a banana farm if that’s not even native to an authentic Hawaiian rainforest?! Now, at this point you may say “David, it’s a volcanic island that rose out of the sea. Nothing is native as all the flora and/or fauna was brought to the island by birds or humans.” And to that I say “whose blog is this anyway?” Stop interrupting me or I will have no other choice than to discontinue imagining your valid points.

Well, despite being slightly mislead about the adventure, at least there were mosquitos. And lots of them. I was disappointed as I saw my chances at the sexy legs crown fading away with each insect bite – although it would increase my odds at winning the coveted “looks like chicken pox legs” title. Thankfully Roger had some homeopathic “mosquito repellant” which everyone took. Apparently his definition of the word “repellant” is similar to the way I define “attractant” as mosquitos were all over us. He then offered his own concoction of after-bite itch relief. Which made me wonder why he bothered to make that in the first place if his repellant was effective. I assume he also had another miracle cream for when the after-bite cream inevitably failed.

I will say the entire hike was worth the time and money when Roger fluffed a very audible “air biscuit” as he was conversing with us. He did it with such confidence and carelessness that I can assume nothing other than he does it in conversation on a very regular basis. Afterwards Karina and I looked at each other exchanging knowing glances that said: “he did not just do that, did he?!”

 Here we are at the exotic lagoon. Not pictured are hoards of tourists who took the easy way.

Karina doing about the closest thing resembling an activity level “3″ on the entire hike. Our guide took incredible measures to ensure we avoided any terrain resembling the main walking path.

The rest of the trip will be chronicled shortly, and most likely in less detail. Stay tuned!!

We decided that we wanted to see as much of the islands as possible and thought a cruise would be a good way of performing that goal. The fact that there is only one regular cruise that goes around the islands made our decision easy.

The one cruise (that sets sail from Hawaii as opposed to the mainland) is from Norwegian Cruise Line aboard the Pride of America. I was slightly worried about cruising with a Scandinavian company. All I had in terms of background on their culture were Vikings and Ikea. I was worried that Karina and I would spend half the day trying to figure out where the buffet was: “is it the largenfluben or the deucenflusher? It must be the first because I am pretty sure the second is the restroom.” And I assumed announcements from the Captain would begin like: “Ha-llo everyone, this is Captain Sven. Velcome to our sheep.”

Day 1

Well, the big day finally came after more preparation than we had anticipated. Turns out handing over the reigns to your life for a week (especially during school) takes a bit of work. We left our moms with 7 volumes of instruction (including a video), cash to cover expenses, a Power of Attorney, will, and the list goes on.

In order to catch an 8am flight from Phoenix we woke up at 3am to hit the road at 4am. And, at about 4:12 we started our vacation a bit heavy-eyed. Both of us tried to catch up on rest during the flight but were both unable to sleep. I have never been able to sleep on a flight for some reason. It may have something to do with the fact that I am hurtling along at over 500 miles per hour, approximately 6 miles up, in a tin can, designed by humans, made up of 5 million parts that each must work perfectly to avoid disaster. Or it could be the seats.

We arrived in Honolulu around noon Hawaii time. After renting a car and checking in to our hotel we decided to do a bit of exploring. We decided to sample some of the local cuisine so our first stop was Round Table Pizza. While the pizza was delicious, I was slightly distracted by the birds frequenting the restaurant. Virtually all of the birds had some sort of a foot disfiguration. I could not figure out why. It turns out birds on some of the other islands are the same way. My theory is these club-feet are a natural survival adaptation for the birds. The feet are designed to incite pity in other creatures around it. And it worked in this case. I probably fed those birds a slice and a half of pizza. Of course another theory could be the human food is somehow increasing birth defects in the birds. I didn’t think about that one until later: oops.

Evidence of foot problems:

 We walked along Waikiki beach for a bit and then went to a shopping district. It amazed me how much like Vegas Honolulu was in regards to high end shopping. Thankfully Honolulu’s street-side flyers involved less nudity. We then hit an international marketplace that had a ton of stereotypical Hawaiian souvenirs.

Here’s us on the beach at Waikiki:

 Both of us were a bit tired from waking up so early so we turned in early and went to bed around 8:30. We each slept well…until 9pm when I was violently awoken to the sound of numerous explosions nearby as the hotel’s weekly fireworks started. Thankfully, they were relatively short and, after breathing into a bag for a few minutes, I went back to sleep quickly.

Day 2

The next morning we woke up naturally at 5:45 am (8:45 Tucson time). Getting up before 6 on vacation just felt wrong. Our one goal for Honolulu was to visit Pearl Harbor as we have both been very interested in World War II as of late. After a wrong turn or six we finally arrived. I have no idea how the Japanese pilots found the harbor as I had a hard time and I had a navigator, GPS, and road signs to follow.

We had really wanted to visit the USS Arizona memorial so we got our tickets, maps, and a headset to listen to an audio tour. As we had about an hour before it was our turn to head out to the memorial we hit the restroom before we were going to walk around.

Unfortunately some sort of incident had happened in men’s urinal number 2 (which was of course the only one open). The floor was covered in…errr….the stuff that goes in a urinal. But, since I was wearing shoes, I tiptoed in and did my business. Unfortunately after I did my business, disaster struck: I dropped a pile of paperwork from my underarm directly into the puddle. Looking back, I probably should have just let the paperwork be. However, there were witnesses and I was always taught to clean up after myself. So I reached in and grabbed my papers, neatly dabbing my fingertips into the puddle. I threw the papers away immediately and set about washing (and rewashing) my hands. When we got out, I told Karina that I was pretty sure what just happened was surely the worst thing to ever happen at Pearl Harbor…that day.

The USS Arizona memorial was a somber and fascinating experience. I wish we had more time to spend as there are multiple museums and memorials at Pearl Harbor. I could have spent two days there and I recommend a visit there if you ever find yourself in Honolulu.

Here I am at the USS Arizona Memorial:

As our time to board the ship was nearing, we set about finding an authentic Hawaiian barbeque in the neighborhood of the airport. The specific one we were looking for turned out to be a lot harder to find than we thought (I sure could have used a Japanese aviator). We finally settled on the “Airport Barbeque” which we stumbled across in a very industrial area. We felt safe though as a police officer was eating there at the time. The food was tolerable but certainly not what we were hoping. And of course, as we drove off we passed right by the restaurant we were looking for.

We boarded the ship and as is our custom, headed immediately for the buffet. The buffet is my favorite part of any cruise as the endless possibilities just make me feel all warm inside. And this buffet seemingly did not disappoint. There were traditional staples such as pizza, hamburgers, and sirloin, as well as some other dishes I don’t generally eat: seafood pasta with octopus, lamb curry, and something with duck. The food was fantastic…in theory. However, it was a little bland and slightly cold. I made up for this by shoveling more into my mouth. And then going for dessert…which was amazing.

Now, as this was vacation, my next step would have been to find a lounge chair and slowly settle into a food coma. However, it turns out I am now married to the second coming of Jillian Michaels, so we “got” to exercise. The ship had a running track and we decided to run a couple miles on it. Running on a moving ship turned out to be a lot of fun (with the exception of trying to avoid buffet revelers slowly searching for lounge chairs). Running forward on the ship made me feel like Usain Bolt. However, running towards the back against the ships movement was a little dispiriting.

Here is a picture of us running….

 For the record, Karina wasn’t ahead of me because I couldn’t keep up. Of course not. You see, I was..uh….about to lap her! Yeah, that’s it. For the second time!

Here’s more of us relaxing on vacation…

One very nice amenity in the gym was that every treadmill had it’s own television. You could choose from literally several channels of entertainment. Most of them being news organizations. And most of them dedicated to focusing on this story:

While keeping up with that story sure didn’t help my nerves, I had complete trust in our Captain as I had never heard of a Scandinavian ship crashing due to unsafe maneuvers. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t heard of any Scandinavian ships period.

(Except this one of course)

After running and lifting weights in at the gym a bit I hit the shower. And it turns out I mean that in a fairly literal sense. The shower turned out to be smaller than a European phone booth. Not to mention the ship was rocking and rolling requiring me to balance constantly. It must have looked like I was performing a drunk hokey pokey. There were knees and elbows everywhere! Thankfully they were cushioned by the shower wall. I can’t imagine what people in the adjoining room thought was happening as it no doubt sounded like a fleshy rock thrown in a dryer. And, it was even worse if you could have seen me, which was impossible as there was BARELY enough room for all the appendages of even one normal human male.

The rest of our vacation will follow soon….

Doug informed me that he was forming a team for the tournament made up mostly of his fellow professionals and he wanted me to play. I figured this was my best chance as it was close, cheap, and hopeful full of amateurs like myself. Looking back now, there are a few questions I probably should have asked. Should your Schwann’s man invite you to a dodgeball tournament, I recommend you ask the following:

1. What are the rules?
2. How many players are on a team?
3. Is everyone who comes out bloodthirsty and hellbent on the destruction of their fellow humans using weapons in the form of playground balls?

Also,

4.  What are the jerseys like?

Now you may wonder why anyone would bother to ask about jerseys. Well, I showed up to play and was surprised to find out this was the team apparel (even more shocking considering in the last Sahuarita league I played in I was wearing our church’s jersey):

Now, while it does look amazing draped over my pecs, I was less than happy about the graphics. I mean, black flames in the numbers? That doesn’t even make sense. Oh, and there was also the giant Satanesque figure and name of “TEAM EVIL”. In order to assuage my guilt in wearing the shirt I had to convince myself EVIL was an acronym for Everything Virtuous In Life and the figure was actually a sunburnt superhero with hair like Wolverine whose goal in life was to reward people who helped others.

And while this shirt was bad, the other option was a jersey that said “7 Deadly Sins” and each jersey’s “name” was a different deadly sin (ie. Lust). Thankfully I didn’t have to wear that, but if I did I was hoping once of the sins was “General Lack of Coordination”. These jerseys really made me reconsider what I thought I knew about Doug.

Now, pretty much everything I know about dodgeball came from the movie “Dodgeball” and numerous repressed memories from junior high school.

So, my form of preparation involved putting on a protective “cup”.

I really only had two goals for the experience: to have fun and to come back with my facial features in the same spot as when I left. So I didn’t know what I was in for when I actually walked on the court and observed the pros start warming up. My first thought was “oh geez, oh geez, oh geez.” These guys (and one amazingly agile and strong-armed female) weren’t so much throwing the dodgeballs as they were launching them. I began warming up by throwing a ball at the fence. While I was throwing with literally everything I had in me, my balls were going much slower than everyone else’s so I had to keep saying things like “oh man, my arm is cold” and “can you imagine if I really threw this slowly? Ha!” Doug then decided he wanted to practice catching the ball so he stood in front of the fence while everyone took turns throwing at him, until it came to me and I more or less lobbed it at him. He was tossing the balls back pretty hard to the other guys and gingerly looping them back at me. I could tell he was taking it easy on me. Not wanting his pity and knowing I wouldn’t get better unless I started trying to catch some faster shots I asked him to “throw it a little harder.” MISTAKE!!! Literally before I knew it there was a red ball dribbling away from me and a growing welt on my chest. To this day I am not sure how he did it but I am reasonably confident a teleporter was somehow involved. I knew I was in trouble (and also that Doug has no idea what the phrase “a little” means).

Now that I was sufficiently freaked out, I looked around to gauge the competition. There were three teams who showed up. Two of the teams were comprised of the professional Tucson Dodgeball all-stars (and me) and the third was a group of terrified amateurs. I felt bad for them knowing they signed up thinking it would be a fun thing to try with a bunch of other Rancho Sahuarita folks who have never played. They probably even laughed to each other thinking “wouldn’t it be hilarious if we were the only newbies and literally everyone else who showed up (except one) was a professional player?”

Most of the pro players (wherein pro just means they play in tournaments for money…not as a primary occupation…but they are still crazy good) where very cool…albeit with “spicy” vocabularies.

Well, we started playing and I gradually began finding my place. It was usually on the sidelines chasing down balls. But when I played, I also became slightly more confident. They say in football that nervous players just need to be hit once to knock the nerves out. I assumed the same principle held true and that I just needed to be beaned once to get in the zone. Well, it took a while to get beaned, not because I am an elusive ninja, but because the other team didn’t sense enough of a threat in me to bother wasting a ball in my direction. But when the first ball came at me, it came fast! I managed to avoid it with an instinctual seizure-like move I call the “herky-jerk”. It only works when accompanied by a high-pitched shriek of terror which I definitely included.

You may be having a hard time grasping the “feel” of the tournament so I figured I’d help you out. The picture below is a picture of a standard playground dodgeball like the ones we used.

This is a picture of said dodgeball three inches from your nose:

Now, take a look at the first one and look quickly at the second to experience a ball flying at you. Now to truly understand the game from my perspective, do it again and imagine your teammates yelling things like “catch the ball!” and “why are you even here?” all the while against a backdrop of male (and one female) body odor. Of course, my view was more like the following as I was curled up in a ball with my eyelids doing their darndest to protect my LASIK investment:

I did eventually figure out that I needed to rely on deception rather than arm speed and/or accuracy. And by deception I meant I walked around like I owned the place and would have absolutely NO problem decapitating anyone with a dodgeball should the desire arise whilst I did everything in my power to avoid having to hold an actual dodgeball. I did score a few sweet outs towards the end using my patented no-look move I carried over from basketball. I knew my knack of passing the ball directly into my teammates ankles would pay off someday!

The team I happened to be on was clearly the best of the tournament as demonstrated by our winning all but 1 of approximately 33 rounds of play, However, based on some shady tournament organizing, the championship ended up resting on a single “winner take all” game with the other pro team. This despite us having beaten them roughly 16 out 17 previous times. I call shenanigans!

As luck would have it, we ended up losing. But, our team did end up walking away with fabulous Rancho Sahuarita gift bags that included things like a keychain and chapstick. That and I accomplished both of my goals. Hazah!

Now this was going to be a new experience all around as none of us had ever been to a U of A women’s basketball game. I’ve been to my share of men’s games and I had no clue how this would stack up. I am not going to lie, the rest of this blog may or may not play off some women’s sports stereotypes, namely that the women, while each and every one them being more than capable to humiliate me on the court (in basketball, arm-wrestling, battleship…you name it), are less athletic than the men and the sport isn’t as popular. Of course, my second notion that the women’s sport is less popular than the men isn’t so much a “stereotype” as it is a “fact”, as supported by an article I found on Bloomberg.com (http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2011-04-01/women-s-basketball-teams-operate-in-red-as-salaries-break-college-budgets.html). A few key nuggets: there are virtually no women’s college teams supporting their own programs with revenue, partially because there is very little television market and the games sell fewer tickets at cheaper prices than men’s games. Thank you Title IX for the resulting increase in tuition!

We bought our tickets for $4 from the USA Youth coordinator. Alyson’s was free as she was less than 3 years old. The first difference I noticed (besides the affordability of the ticket and the fact that there was apparently enough room to allow 2 year olds in for free) was the ticket said “General Admission” with no seat designations. When we walked into the arena, we saw a plethora of available seats and several large blue drapes blocking off a large portion of the arena’s normally available seats. This led to a very comfy, inside-a-giant-shower-curtain feel. It took everything I had to avoid belting out my traditional shower song “Don’t Stop Believin’”. We walked right down to the front and scored some very nice seats. I’ve often heard people with nice seats at the men’s games remark that it is surprising to see how tall the men really are. Well, from our seats, we could see how normal-sized the ladies were. Except of course the 6’5” center.

We sat through most of the first half anxious to watch Ashton. Then, with only a few minutes left, the USA coordinator asked if I wouldn’t mind coaching one of the two teams. Thinking I couldn’t do any worse than Kevin O’Neil, I agreed to it.

With about 4 minutes to go in the half, our coaches and players migrated to the court to prepare for the game. A U of A coordinator was there to give us instructions. The first thing she said was how surprised she was at the crowd we must have brought out. I was skeptical at first as there were not too many kids at all and Ashton had the largest contingent of supporters with 6 people. However, as I thought about it I realized when you are dealing with the size of crowds normally expected at the women’s game, an additional 17 people makes a striking difference. My hunch is the crowd was a result of the U of A team’s newfound non-ineptitude (eptitude perhaps?). They are 11-1 and off to one of their best starts ever.

I knew two of the kids on the team from the last basketball season I coached (one of them also because he is my son). However, I did not know the two other players I was given. As our four were going to be playing a team of five, I was hoping we had a few diamonds in the rough. I immediately set about assessing my team’s talent. My son Ashton is a smart player and a good defender. The other kid from our team is a good shooter and unaware of the meaning of the word “pass”. So I asked the other two kids how long they had played basketball. Their answer: zero. Apparently they were some kids from the flag football teams who were recruited to fill out the roster. Well, at least there wouldn’t be thousand of people watching them try the game for the first time. And the coach from the other team turned out to be a football coach. I knew that was our advantage.

Just before the 1^st half of the ladies’ game came to an end, the USA leader gave the kids a little speech wherein he told them it was an honor to play on the U of A floor. A sentiment I agreed with completely. He told them to go out and touch the “A” at center court when they ran out. Which the kids dutifully did. Some of them doing it multiple times….during the game.

The game itself went really well and Ashton had a great time. He even made a flew highlight-worthy plays which are shown in the video below.

I was very happy that the crowd was so into the game (this is possibly because they couldn’t tell a difference in size and talent between the actual game and our exhibition…hey-o!). They cheered on the kids as they made baskets and good plays. I think the kids were so pumped that they didn’t even notice. After the game, the kids were each given a keychain (for all of their keys of course) and went back to their seats for the rest of the game.

As my family isn’t too into sports, we decided to leave discretely after half time and get some ice cream. It turned out being pretty hard to be discrete as our departure meant half of the arena’s attendance was leaving at once. We enjoyed our ice cream and, incidentally were able to see just as many slam-dunks as if we were to have stayed for the duration of the game.

Well, the other night Karina gave me full discretion to pick a movie. I went to the Redbox and did not see anything I had been really looking forward to seeing. So, I checked down as it were to my B-list: movies that had sounded interesting on earlier visits but were not the most attractive in the box. In this case, we went with Limitless. I was excited thinking this movie was an overdue biopic on the life story of Chuck Norris. Unfortunately, it was not.

Limitless is a movie about a down-on-his-luck writer who stumbles upon a miracle pill that unleashes the normally untapped potential of the human brain. It stars Bradley Cooper and Robert “I have nipples Greg, could you milk me?” De Niro.

Incidentally, this movie was filmed before Bradley Cooper was recently named People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive. This can only mean that last year’s winner Ryan Reynolds has tragically passed away. Oops, a quick Google search indicates I may have jumped the gun a bit on that supposition. Apparently Ryan Reynolds is still alive. What the?! How did he lose his sexiness? What does this award mean anyways?! A man loses his sexiness on only 1 year?! Well, explain 2 time winners Brad Pitt or George Clooney to me! I am going to assume that, once named People’s Sexiest Man Alive, it goes to their head a bit. And, as I am sure the ladies can vouch for, there is nothing sexy about an inflated ego…unless you are a cast member on Jersey Shore.

I haven’t done too much research on the topic (I swear) so I am not familiar with the origins of the award. Is there a reason it is called Sexiest Man Alive and not Sexiest Man Ever? I am assuming there is general consensus that someone who has since passed was clearly the Sexiest Man Ever so now the award has to be qualified. Who was it? Ghengis Kahn? Abraham Lincoln? Perhaps King Solomon with his “cheeks like a garden of spices” and “body like bright ivory glowing with lapis lazuli”?

Well, regardless, congratulations to Bradley Cooper for joining an elite group of men who have conclusively proven themselves as the sexiest man alive on earth. A group of men that includes (and I am not making any of these up) Harry Hamlin, Mark Harmon, and Nick Nolte.

This is a picture of former Sexiest Man Alive Nick Nolte. Apparently I have been going about this “sexy” thing all wrong with my pursuit of basic hygiene. Consider THIS my application for Sexiest Man Alive:

Have you ever stopped to consider how luck we are to live in the time we do? Not in terms of the technology that makes our lives relatively easy, but the fact that we are alive during a time when there are currently 21 living People’s Sexiest Men Alive! I propose that, just like the living US president’s get together every year, the sexiest men do as well to commemorate their amazing achievement.

Also, the selection of Bradley Cooper means 15 of the 21 Sexiest Men Alive have been American. I think we should mention that in the national anthem somehow. Join me in chanting: USA, USA, USA!!

Alright, I am off the Sexiest Man Alive topic. As I titled this post Limitless Movie Review I should probably throw in a few observations of the movie.

Karina and I actually both enjoyed this movie. It was well-acted and had some engaging visual effects. We both found the premise very interesting. Bradley Cooper’s character is introduced to the (non-FDA approved) pill that unlocks access to the 80% of his brain power that is supposedly not used. In practicality this means that Bradley’s (if I can call him that) character can recall anything he’s read, watched, or observed immediately. Thankfully for him, he has been exposed to classic literature and fighting techniques. Both of which help him in his ensuing adventures. Were this me, this would mean easy access to a compendium of Hardy Boys trivia and the ability to laugh nonstop at brain reruns of Bob Saget America’s Funniest Home Videos. Perhaps not practical, but I am sure we can all agree AWESOME!

Once his character becomes a genius, he uses it to climb the social ladder and make tons of money on the stock market. That’s all well and good, but I find it kind of absurd. If I took a pill that completely unlocked my brain’s potential the first thing I’d do is finish a ding-danged Sudoku puzzle. Then I’d do something that would positively impact mankind, such as devising a pair of earbud headphones with a cord that doesn’t tangle.

Well, as one would expect, Bradley’s market success causes him to run afoul or a business magnate (De Niro) and a Russian mobster. The rest of the movie follows his attempts to get himself out of trouble, sometimes depending only on his regular brain.

I won’t give away the rest of the story as I recommend you watch it. But Karina and I came away feeling satisfied. And it did serve to remind me to take my daily multi-vitamins.