After a second restful night of sleep, Karina and I awoke, packed, and headed out to find some breakfast. We decided to eat at the little crepe stand directly across from the Paris breakfast buffet we had eaten at the previous day. I enjoyed a delicious orange crepe with cinnamon and a dollop of sweet whipped cream. Karina had something else. We then sat down, luggage and all, to eat our breakfast and watch the breakfast buffet line across the walkway.  There is something incredibly satisfying about eating food while watching others stand in line 30-45 minutes to get theirs. That is probably not a good thought to have. I believe that feeling arose as a result of my, by nature of staying at the Paris hotel, way of acclimating to the general French feeling of self-importance and disdain. (I hope I didn’t offend any of my numerous French friend with that cheap shot…sorry Pierre)

Karina and I decided that we would head over to the Luxor to check out some interesting exhibits. The first one was called Bodies – The Exhibition. Beings we were in Vegas and with a name like that I assumed the exhibit as a little different then it turned out to be. (turns out I was thinking of “Peepshow”) The Bodies exhibit is actually a collection of human cadavers in various states of dissection to show the inner workings of the human body. Internet reviewers have used terms like “extraordinary”, “beautiful”, and “great” to describe the exhibit. I would use words more like “creepy”, “bizarre”, and “throw-up-a-little-in-my-mouth-inducing”. I will admit, I learned a lot about the human body and it was an incredibly effective way of seeing how some parts of the body work. However, I had a hard time getting over the fact that I was looking at dead people. In fact, the only thing that would have made it any creepier would be to find out that cadavers were actually taken without consent from Chinese prisoners. Actually, now that I think of it…one second…googling…well, it turns out some people (people like the New York Times) report some of the bodies are actually executed Chinese prisoners. Needless to say I do not plan to check out that exhibit again, even though it is currently showing in Tucson.

After spending an hour and a half viewing cadavers Karina and I needed an emotional pick-me-up. So we headed next door to the Titanic exhibit. This one was more up my alley. I am fascinated with the Titanic for various reasons. This exhibit had many items collected from the wreckage of the ship. There were personal items from passengers (including perfume that you could still smell), dishes from the galley, and even a large piece of the hull. It also had a block of ice that, according to literature in the exhibit, was very similar in temperature and composition to the very iceberg that sunk the Titanic. The block of ice was meant to be a sobering reminder that the frigid water Titanic foundered in was actually colder than ice. However, I was slightly distracted and found myself focusing more on how tragic it was that Vanilla Ice was able to sell eleven million records. Oh the horror!

After leaving the Luxor and it’s exhibitions of death we stopped by New York New York to eat some authentic New York Las Vegas pizza. The pizza was delicious (it tasted strangely similar to Sbarro) and we enjoyed listening to a singer in a nearby restaurant cover some popular hits.

We then headed back to the airport to return home to my mom and the kiddos. Even though it is nice to get away sometimes and get some Karina time, there is nothing better than coming home to the kids. Seeing their eyes light up and hearing their voices, full of love, ask “what did you get us” nearly made me forget I had spent the day looking at dead dudes.

After breakfast, it was time for my big surprise. Karina had planned something weeks in advance for our trip but she refused to tell me what the plan was. We got into our rental car and headed out, me still in the dark as to our destination. Turns out, my wife is the best friggin’ wife in the world! She had surprised me with a chance to drive a Ferrari F430 for five laps on a 1.1 mile road course at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway!

The experience started with a tutorial on how to drive a $200,000 vehicle at ridiculous speeds (actually is started with a preventative restroom break but I didn’t want to interrupt the flow of the story…oops).  15 minutes later we were apparently all trained for the experience. I vaguely remember something about not turning while braking, keeping speed in the last corner before the straightaway, and not ruining their car.

All of the prospective drivers then board a Hummer H2 for two “discovery” laps around the course. I was glad I had made a preventative restroom run because, after two laps in a Hummer driven by a real race car driver, I most certainly would have discovered something in my pants. The intent of the discovery laps is to allow the drivers to become familiar with the course, all 9 turns. During the rare moments that I peeked through my shivering fingers I was able to see that there were a few turns to the left, and a few to the right.

Now completely prepared for the experience, I put on my helmet and got in the Ferrari. It was a beautiful red car, as evidenced by the picture below (that’s me in the driver’s seat).

One thing hit me when I got in the car though. It was the door pillar. The interior of the car is not huge by any stretch. Unfortunately my helmet was though. I could barely keep my head straight up without hitting the pillar. Any looking to the left resulted in a slight “conk” (thankfully it didn’t hurt because I had a helmet on). I adjusted my seat, greeted my copilot  (hi, please don’t let me die”), and slowly began my run on the track. I started slowly because I had to maneuver the car out of the garage. In doing this I noticed an interesting phenomena. The more expensive the car, the bigger it feels relative to objects that can destroy it. I felt like I was driving the Titanic until we got outside.

After successfully navigating the garage exit, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was time to race! Over the course of the five laps I was able to get the car up to 110 mph on the straightaway that I estimate was about a quarter mile. That was a blast. Not so much of a blast was being passed several times by other drivers who apparently didn’t realize they were careening around in items that cost as much as a good sized house. I really wanted to go fast but heading into the corners all I heard were visions of my dad from when I was sixteen: “slow down for the turn, this isn’t a race you know”. In fact, I thought I WAS going fast, until Karina burst my bubble by showing me the video of my run. I was convinced it was in slow motion. Alas, it was not. I merely drive like a granny (no offense grandma). I like to think I just got my money’s worth more than the other guys who wasted the experience by going fast. While it kills my pride to show this, video of my run is below. I am the guy who looks like a baseball team’s mascot due to the size of the helmet in proportion to my body (with the exception of the guns for course).

After my run, Karina got an awesome experience herself. She got a ride in a Corvette Z06 driven by a real Hollywood stuntman. His name was Roman something-or-other and he drove the Mini Cooper in the Bourne Identity. He took her around the track for two laps, drifting all the way. Those of you unfamiliar with “drifting” may think of a feather floating on the breeze. This “drifting” is not as graceful and more incredibly violent. It is similar to riding the Scrambler at a Carnival, only  if the ride was supercharged. They got up to about 140 mph in the straightaway. The video below shows a short portion of the ride Roman gave another person. In relation to Karina’s ride, mine was a leisurely afternoon joyride.

On the way back from the racetrack we stopped at the Gold and Silver Pawn Shop. This is the store made famous in the show “Pawn Stars” on the History Channel. While none of the personalities on the show were there (they apparently only work weekdays…primadonnas)  we did see many of the items featured on the show, such as a bowling ball cannon, western-style dummies (see picture), and the painting of Jim Morrison. I thought it would be cool to buy something from the shop, but everything was way overpriced. Their used Blu-Rays were $15! I can go on Amazon.com and buy brand-new Blu-Rays such as that John Wayne classic “The Searchers” or the “French Connection” for less than that!

One of our requirements for the trip was for us to see a real Vegas show. We saw the Blue Man Group years ago and loved it. Our only criteria were the show could not have any nudity or profanity (this narrowed the field down to Donny & Marie, a ventriloquist, a timesharing presentation, or La Reve). Beings we were looking for tickets for that night, we were left with one choice: La Reve at the Wynn. As the show is at the Wynn, you may think it would be overpriced. But you are wrong. It was WAY overpriced. For the price we paid for those tickets, we could have watched 8 movies at the local cinema, bought a huge popcorn and soda, and used the valet parking. I figured we paid about a dollar and a half per minute of entertainment. At that rate I could have hired J-Lo for a private concert.

“La Reve” is French for “The Reve” which is Frenglish for “The Dream”. It is a Cirque-du-soleil type of show, in that involved water and acrobatics. Only this one is unique (said the lady selling us the tickets) in that it has a plot. I was lost from the very beginning where we were told by a video-projected baby in utero not to use flash photography. You read that correctly. From what I gathered, it was your typical love story. Boy meets girl, boy asks girl to marry him, girl goes to sleep on a bench, girl dreams about people doing high dives, the devil does some menacing ballet, girl engages with a break-dance off with the devil’s wife, girl wakes up, girl says yes to boy, and they are both lifted happily into the sky on a floating bed made of super-sized flowers.

Perhaps I am just not cultured enough to understand something like this, but I was lost. I like my love stories to be free of metaphors like Beauty and the Beast. The talking candlestick was just that: a talking candlestick. I didn’t have to pay a dollar and a half per minute to figure out what part of Beauty’s subconscious he was and how he kept the candles in his candelabra hands even when they turned upside down.

As you can tell, I would have much rather watched Carrot Top than the show we saw. Karina loved it on the other hand. Her favorite part was when two guys did some crazy acrobatic routine with each other. I think it had less to do with their amazing physical prowess as it had to do with the fact that their clothes were practically painted on. I know the male performers wear spandex pants (and nothing else) because of all of the physical activity, but really, sweatpants wouldn’t be just as flexible?!

The show got out at 11, which was past our bedtime, so we braved the crowds on the street and headed back to our hotel. On our way we stopped at another Vegas staple for dinner: Panda Express. In line, Karina noticed a plate with a sign indicating it was for “Wasted Toothpick”. Karina remarked that phrase reminded her of Lindsay Lohan for some reason. Ba-zing! Nicely done wife!

Day three’s blog (not nearly as long…I promise) will be posted shortly. You’ll learn about when we touched a real kidney. Try not succumbing to that teaser! Actually, please don’t try. Read the blog instead.

Vegas is the hotel room capital of the world so one can find lodging of any quality and price. I personally could sleep on a frozen bed of nails and am therefore quite content in your standard Motel 6. My wife however has slightly more discriminating tastes. She prefers her room with fewer mystery stains on the bed and more amenities like coffee machines. So, we “compromised” and got a room at the Paris hotel. For those of you who have never been to this hotel and casino, it is themed after it’s famous French city namesake. I have never actually been to the “real” Paris, but I think the hotel’s theme folks have done a fantastic job capturing the city’s aura by cleverly recreating the Eiffel Tower, streetside cafes, cobblestone streets, and the apparent abundance of Wheel of Fortune Quarter slot machines.

Upon arrival in Vegas we checked into our room and were pleasantly surprised by the view. Take a gander at the picture showing the view from our room…

We were directly across from the Bellagio and it’s famous water show (in action in the photograph above). One thing that surprises me is how loud the water show is. The music accompanying the show is not quiet, but each time the water sprays it sounds like a small explosion (probably because water cannons are used). So every half hour it felt like we were thrust directly in the middle of the Revolutionary War. After scouting out the room, we headed out to find food.

Beings it was our first night in Vegas and we love to sample the exotic cuisines indigenous to the areas we travel, we had dinner at PF Chang’s. The food was fabulous and the company even better. And as an added bonus, Karina and I even spotted some folks we recognized. I saw Hank Azaria (the Blue Raja on Mystery Men as well as the voice of several Simpson’s characters) and Karina saw a friend she thought was dead. I was excited to see a barely-made-the-B-List celebrity this soon in our vacation. At this rate, I thought, I’ll probably run into Jaleel White, Antonio Sabato Jr., AND Tiffany (Amber)Thiessen before we head home! As I was this close to Hollywood royalty, I creepily stared at Hank over Karina’s shoulder for the remainder of the dinner. I did not however get the guts to approach Hank and ask for an autograph.

Our bellies full of Americanized Chinese food, we strolled around some of the stores at the Planet Hollywood hotel. While Karina doesn’t mind shopping, thankfully she is not into high fashion as it appears the “high” part refers to the pricing. Some of the products were so expensive that some boutiques (they are too high class to be called a store) entire sale able inventory consisted of 18 purses! I did not venture in to check the prices as I clearly was not in the store’s intended demographic (I had forgotten to wear my tuxedo and diamond encrusted cuff links). My assumption is each purse probably cost approximately the equivalent of East Timor’s gross domestic product (or the career earnings of Antonio Sabato Jr.). Looking to find a store more within our price range, we headed to Walgreen’s to pick up a few necessities. I love how even Walgreen’s gets into the spirit of Vegas with a bright neon sign. They also had a decent selection of reasonably priced purses…take that Donna Karan!

By this point the time was now 10 o’ clock or so. Those of you who have been to Vegas before know that this is the point everyone puts on their fancy club attire and heads out in the street to use excessive profanities. This is also the time numerous gentlemen kindly wave brochures in your face advertising selfless ladies who apparently wish to provide company to lonely men. As I already had the company of a lovely lady, I ignored the men (approximately 7% of which I estimate to be legal citizens) and we headed back to our hotel for the night. Yes, I did say we hit the hay between 10 and 11. We have kids so part of our excitement on the trip was the promise of uninterrupted sleep. Of course with the Bellagio across the way, my dreams revolved around things like battles with bayonets. How relaxing!

Day 2 will be posted shortly. You’ll read about the surprise Karina got me (with video!) as well as my review of an authentic Vegas show.

Most of you parents are probably intimately familiar with the show. It features several characters (who make a cameo in a Kia commercial you may have seen and thought “what the…?!”) like a green hairy beast with no skeletal system in his arms and a one-eyed warty carrot thing. While your first impression may revolve around how bizarre it is, the show appears to actually be developed with the parent in mind.

I had never watched the show in any detail except for cameos by Andy Samberg and Jack Black (already a good sign) that Karina asked me to watch. Tonight however, we were on the way home from my mom’s and I got to listen to an entire Yo Gabba Gabba soundtrack. (For those of you without kids, yes, this is one thing to prepare yourself for…no more Snoop Dogg, Tupac, or Barry Manilow in the car, it’s The Wiggles and Barney)

One thing struck me immediately about the songs: their practicality. While other children’s TV Show/music super groups like the Wiggles teach in great detail such things as how to make a good fruit salad, that’s not very useful to me. Yo Gaba Gabba, on the other hand has many a song that teaches lessons I am trying to impart to my own children: like complaining won’t get you what you want, trying new food is good, and don’t ask someone to pull your finger until you are locked and loaded. (actually Yo Gabba Gabba hasn’t made a song about the last one…yet)

As much as my kids watch the show, I would hope to see more effect on their behavior from the lesson-packed songs. Yet, in a comparison between pre-show viewing behavior to post-show behavior, I have seen no marked improvement in the complaining or new food trying areas (the kids don’t even want to try pizza chicken pasta. For the love of Pete, it’s pizza with pasta instead of the bread!). I was wondering why the songs weren’t hitting home and then I began to think of how much music I listen to and how little of it I actually take to heart…or even understand. For example, I love the song Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. However, I have no idea what the words in the title even mean. Yet that does not prevent me from singing along at the top of my lungs to such lyrics as “Let me go! Ish Meal Lock, No I will not let you go”. Anyone have any idea what that means? Is an Ish Meal Lock required for a Bohemian to Rhapsod or something?

Regardless, I can only hope that my kids will start taking to heart the lyrics from the song. And, if not, perhaps the Yo Gabba Gabba writers can add some proverbial meat to their lyrics. One song goes “Try it! You will like it!” I suggest a song entitled “Eat your ding-danged food or I will throw away every ounce of sugar in this house! Don’t test me or you will rue the day…RUE THE DAY I TELL YOU!”

An El Guero Canelo sonoran dog tastes like what I imagine a rainbow tastes like…except less gritty. The hot dog is covered in a myriad of toppings that one wouldn’t think should be paired with a hot dog. Well, let me suggest you stop thinking with your brain. Let your taste buds do the thinking for a change. There are tomatoes, onions, beans, jalapeño salsa, mayonnaise and mustard. And all of those condiments lovingly blanket a hot dog that is warmly embraced by several strips of bacon (And don’t let me start on the sweet, warm, melt-in-your mouth bun!). I am not going to lie, it took me several trips before I finally tried the sonoran dog. There are very few things I regret in my life (the incident with the leafblower and the armadillo being one), however I truly regret each and every time I visited EGC without buying a sonoran dog (I am sorry Mr. Canelo, and even moreso I am sorry own stomach). In a word, they are amazingly fantastic!

While the EGC sonorant dog is nearly impossible to beat in a taste test (unless the other combatant is a slice of Peter Piper Pizza…that fight would end in a draw my friend) it is not the only food item well worth the money at EGC. The Carne Asada burrito also rates an 11 on a taste scale to 10. In fact, this was the first item I ever tried at EGC. A (huge) warm, flour tortilla is packed with the best carne asada meat you have ever tasted (assuming you have tried the exact same variety of carne asada meats that I have tried over the course of my life). Carne Asada meat is tender cubes of beef from the Asada region of the cow. The carna asada is joined in the sleeping bag of flour by several other bedmates (for the record, the food’s relationship is purely platonic…and awesome!). There are beans, cabbage, and some sort of white cheese. I like to top off the burrito with a squirt of lime and a coating of EGC’s guacamole sauce. As you can imagine, the ingredients in the burrito combine to react in your intestine with resulting effects similar to swallowing a stick of dynamite. Montezuma does indeed get his proverbial revenge. Take a tip from me, it is totally worth it! (Here is another tip: within 3 hours of eating EGC, grab a book and strap yourself in for a while…sorry if that brazen statement offended anyone, a magazine would work too).

EGC has two convenient locations (if you are either in central or south Tucson). The original location on 12^th and Nebraska gives the patron the feeling they are eating at a quaint outdoor taco stand in Mexcio. The restaurant is conveniently located just north of the house with hundreds of mattresses in the yard. Surrounding businesses kindly enhance EGC’s ambience by ensuring all of their text is in Spanish. Be prepared to wait in line if there is a lunch rush. Once you order however, the food is turned out extremely fast (or, muy rapido). This location may not be for everyone though. I would suggest you ordering “to go” if you are not a fan of flies/bees or if your preferred seating accommodations include a back rest.

The newest location is at Grant and Oracle. This location is fully enclosed and climate controlled. In my humble (but never wrong) opinion, the food at this location is slightly inferior to its southern cousin. For example, the guacamole sauce at the Grant location has a little too much guac and not enough mole. The food here still beats any other restaurant in town hands down (I would even say hands up for that matter).

If you haven’t already tried EGC, give it a whirl. Keep in mind, the restaurant does not serve many Mexican staples (which is ok with me…I always found the staples too pointy and metallic…Hey Yo!). You won’t find any enchiladas, chimichangas, or Nachos Bel Grande. However, there is enough variety to make the trip worthwhile. If you ever feel like heading to EGC and trying something new, give me a call!

Instructor: “Welcome everyone to Air Force boot camp. Before we begin the drills, we need everyone to sign in at the registration table. Remember, last name first, then first name.” (I assume there would be more profanity in that statement, so feel free to insert a %$*^ or an @#!% as you read the sentence above)

Me: “OH MY GOODNESS!! They said this would be hard. I can’t do it! (sob) I QUIT! (sob) I think I am going to puke.”

As my flight hours n the F-16 have come solely in the simulator that is my brain, I was highly excited about the Air Show returning to Davis Monthan Air Force Base this year. It had been three years since the last show and I was going through airplane-viewing withdrawals. So, Saturday morning, I made the pilgrimage to Davis Monthan (hereafter referred to as DM…oh shoot, I hope I don’t refer to anything else with the initials of DM, thereby causing confusion…note to self: no references to Dolly Madison products or Dancing Monkeys) along with nearly 99,999 of my fellow nerds (sorry gang, it’s a tough pill to swallow, but we need to accept what we are).

I took Ashton with me and, thankfully I brought the stroller for him. I parked the car in approximately Utah and walked about a mile and a half to get to the exhibits. There we met my parents, sister, and brother-in-law and we began to gaze upon the large objects showcasing the might of our Military. After the soldiers got creeped out by our staring, we took in all of the aircraft. There was a very nice selection of aircraft this year: a B-52, a B-1, an F-14 (Ashton’s favorite), an F-22, and about 347 other airplanes. Additionally, we enjoyed several aircraft demonstrations (my favorites were the F-18 and Thunderbirds). Additionally, there were exhibits showcasing World War II memorabilia, Police and Border Patrol Helicopters, and the Budweiser Clydesdales, which made total sense.

While I was in my own version of heaven, Ashton couldn’t have cared less. He spent most of the time curled up in the stroller trying to nap (probably an aftereffect of driving home from vacation the day prior). This was a difficult proposition however as every 20 minutes several jet engines were usually in full afterburner about 100 yards away. He perked right up however once I bought him a salted pretzel and lemonade.

Speaking of which, I would rate the food at the Air Show as 2 Ailerons up. I had a Philly cheese steak (my first ever believe it or not) and a funnel cake (the most magnificent food item on the planet, slightly edging out cherry Toaster Strudels). It made standing in line with approximately the population of Oro Valley worth it. However, those two items alone cost about the same as the annual taxes of a single earner in the highest income tax bracket once the health care legislation goes into effect (Hey-yo! I bet you didn’t see THAT political zinger coming).

My family and I decided to head out after the Thunderbirds demonstration had ended. Apparently there was a country concert taking place after the show. However, after spending 6 hours massaging my eardrums with jet blasts, all I would have heard was ringing anyway. Judging by some of the apparel worn by my fellow Air Show attendees, the concert was a huge success (let’s just say there were lots of torn jean shorts, beer/fishing shirts, and tank tops with matching farmer’s tans).

With my annual quota of aircraft viewing met, I can now happily start the countdown to the 2012 Air Show.

Both Ashton and Lynsey were tall enough to ride every ride in both parks except for two, so it was a blast watching them enjoy their first big thrill rides. Ashton’s favorite was the Tower of Terror and Lynsey really liked Splash Mountain. Hearing the kids laugh and giggle on Big Thunder Mountain Railroad was really worth the price of admission.

Alyson did super good the whole trip despite having only a few short naps. She hung in great. It was great to watch her on It’s a Small World as she smiled and waved to all of the animatronic characters. Every once in a while we had to find a secluded corner to let her crawl around and get her fill of putting random objects in her mouth (random fact: I learned in a book bought at the park that most of the plants in Tomorrowland are edible).

During our trip I learned a few things:

Disney knows how to treat guests. After finding out it was Lynsey’s b-day, the hotel gave her an 8 X 10 autographed by the Disney princesses and a birthday button. Anytime any Cast Members saw her “Celebrating a birthday” button, they would always acknowledge her and say “Happy birthday”. (Minor side note: she is going through an anti-social phase. When we told her she can’t ignore people who wish her happy b-day and must say “thank you” instead, she elected to remove her birthday button.) Additionally, after Lynsey was made over as Sleeping Beauty in the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique, every cast member we came across said “Your Majesty” and bowed/curtsied…even the Captain Hook character.

Taking kids to Disneyland means checking your cool card at the gate. Besides having to enter shops named the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique, due to the height of my kids (or lack thereof) I needed to accompany them on most rides. Definitely a plus on rides like Space Mountain and the Matterhorn. Not so much a benefit when the ride we are waiting for is Snow White’s Scary Adventure (not exactly scary…more loud/menacing) or the Jumping Jellyfish (not exactly jumping…more like timed hydraulic altitude increases). Thankfully, anybody else around who could possibly judge are in the exact same position with their kids.

As an aside, I found it even more awkward than normal to wait for my son to do his “business” at the park. Anytime he had to make a “Winnie the Pooh” I would have to stand around the restroom waiting for him. I felt very uncomfortable in this situation. Anywhere else I would occupy my time by looking around, however, since 45% of my view was typically at occupied urinals and another 45% of my view was towards mirrors providing reflections of occupied urinals I could not use this tactic. In order to avoid the perception that I was staring at someone as they relieved themselves I had to either check my phone or stare at the other 10% of the view which consisted of the garbage can and the floor. To make matters worse, I was just standing around the bathroom with a giant camera around my neck. A camera that, as it is only fitting, has a pink neckstrap. I think this caused some concern to patrons of the bathroom who must have thought I was a pervert or pedophile taking pictures of people in the bathroom, but I casually explained it away by letting them know I was waiting for a little boy.

Those of you who like Monte Cristo sandwiches are high. I had heard rave reviews of the Monte Cristo served at the Blue Bayou restaurant. As we were on vacation, I decided to give it a whirl (at $21 no less!!). While it didn’t taste bad per se, it was just a little weird to me. Egg batter, powdered sugar, and grape jelly go together, and ham, turkey, and cheese go together, but lumping ALL of them together just didn’t taste right. Kind of like mixing dinner and desert. In my opinion, this odd mixture is why meatloaf ice cream hasn’t taken off yet.

I do not have the ear for lyrics I thought I had. After coming down the main drop in the Splash Mountain ride there is a little celebration area where several characters sing the “How do You Do” song from the Uncle Remus cartoon. I recommend Youtubing the song right now so you can fully appreciate the lyrics.

No matter how hard I have tried to decipher the lyrics, I hear “Pretty good, show us your bum” during the chorus. While I do have a hard time seeing Disney incorporating lyrics such as this in a movie and ride, I was not able to hear anything other than those words. Thanks to the magic of Google, I tracked down the lyrics and found out they say “pretty good, sure as your born”. That makes a lot more sense. I am a little embarrassed about all of those times I had tried to comply with the instructions I thought I was hearing.

I am never taking kids to Disneyland again. Our previous trip to Disneyland (about 3 years ago) had turned into a disaster when 80% of our party (we had gone with my sister and parents) came down with a stomach bug. For a full day we were holed up in the hotel with partially digested food coming from both north and south exit portals (Ashton and Lynsey were the first ones hit, Karina came down with it on the drive home, and I somehow managed to avoid it…thank you obsessive compulsive handwashing habit!). We went through countless sheets and pillow cases and had to use a hotel washing machine to wash several pajamas that were covered in chunder. While being sick at home is no fun, it is still preferable to being sick and stuck in a hotel 450 miles from home. After that incident, we were a little gun-shy about heading to Disneyland again. Well, after 3 years, we figured we had nothing to worry about (also considering the family had the stomach bug already a couple of weeks ago).

The first portion of our trip went flawlessly. Nobody got sick or hurt and, as the sun began to set on Thursday night (our last night at Disneyland), we thought we beat the “curse”. How wrong we were! As Ashton and I took a final ride on Space Mountain before heading over to Splash Mountain for our trip finale, Lynsey, Alyson, and Karina hung out in Tomorrowland waiting for us. The preferred waiting spot in Tomorrowland during the trip was a giant brown water marble, for lack of a better term (no idea how else to describe it, but apparently we will be seeing plenty of them in the future). It sits in a big open area in Tomorrowland and kids are always around it trying to maneuver the marble around on its base (it’s about 4-5 feet in diameter…for those of you who are bad with geometry, it is like the size of a blue whale eye). As Lynsey was working with other kids to turn the marble thingy her new shoes slipped on the water at the base. In an effort to avoid ruining the manicure she received during her Bibbidi Bobbdi Boutique makeover from the previous day, she bravely avoided catching her fall with her hands in favor of using her lower lip. The subsequent impact split her lip wide open. Thankfully, some of the parents in the area sprang into action to help Karina by calling medics and bringing napkins and ice. By the time Ashton and I got there, a Disneyland nurse was attending to Lynsey who, as a side note, is not a fan of bleeding. We were whisked away to a heretofore unexplored section of the Magic Kingdom known as the backlot to get to the First Aid station. The nurse told us that the cut would need stitches and we would need to head to a hospital. I immediately headed out to run to the hotel room for my keys so I could pick up the family in the van. As Murphy’s Law is unbreakable, I had to run through the park as everyone was setting up for the parade, a very difficult task indeed. And to make matters even worse, by the time I made it to the van, the battery was dead. Thankfully Disney security showed up AMAZINGLY fast and I was up and running in no time (they were there within about 3 minutes with a portable jump-starter contraption).

We decided to drive about 6 miles to a teaching/children’s hospital nearby. Thankfully the ER staff was very responsive and we were done with the whole procedure in about 2 hours. A doctor from the children’s hospital came to the ER to explain to Lynsey everything that was going to happen to her and to let Lynsey pick out a movie to watch while they worked on her. Lynsey was a super champ and acted very bravely. She now has three stitches in her lower lip (or, as she says it, they put a string in her lip).

Even thought the situation, like our last trip, turned out fine, Karina and I will seriously have to think about other, less cursed vacation destinations.

Overall the vacation was a needed breakaway from everyday life. We loved watching the kids take everything in (except most of their $8 kid’s meals incidentally) and see their favorite movie characters in real life. While much of what I mentioned in the last blog I wrote about Disney holds true (check the archives), it is a different experience entirely when you have kids who can enjoy the trip. Based on our luck though, I think we will be finding some other kid-themed vacation destination for the future (a Nickelodeon park, SeaWorld, Vegas?).

I, like all dudes, love sports. I love to play (most of) them and I generally like to watch them. My personal favorites to watch are college basketball (especially the U of A), pro and college football (again, preferably if the U of A is playing), and major league baseball. My wife on the other hand can’t stand them. She does not get the logic behind the passion and I can understand that. On the exterior, following sports is completely illogical. We follow the ups and downs of a team throughout an entire year only for the season to end and it to start all over again from scratch the next year.

But you cannot use logic when contemplating a dude’s connection with sports. I would postulate that I am not alone when I say that I am borderline superstitious when it comes to watching games (holy cow, I just noticed I used a record amount of I’s in that last sentence. Count them, there are four. That’s right, four I’s…incidentally that was my nickname in high school along with “dude who played basketball at lunch and stunk up fifth period”). I remember specifically the night the University of Arizona missed out on a chance to play in the Final Four when they lost a heartbreaker to Illinois. The U of A was up big late in the game (somewhere around 17 points) and that’s when Karina decided to watch the game with me. Starting then, the U of A began to lose their grip on the game. I immediately made the connection that the problem was Karina watching the game and I raced into the bedroom to finish the contest. Alas, it was already too late. The U of A lost the game. I owe the Tucson community a great deal for that transgression. And like a lot of guys I have certain articles of clothing that we notice seem to help our teams win (for example, my red U of A shirt that is undefeated when watching the football team, my brown hat that helps the basketball squad, or my red and blue underoos that give the swim team the required spark to prove victorious in a meet). While I know that what I wear has absolutely no connection with the performance of the team, I also do not wish to tempt fate by not doing my part to help the squad. That’s why for big games I will make sure I do everything in my power possible to will the team to victory. I’ll sit in my game chair with my game outfit on eating the game snacks that saw the team to victory last time and sitting in the correct position (come on leg, don’t go to sleep on me now, it is only the third quarter!). Now, I am (mostly) exaggerating there. I do have shorts I like to wear for games, but at least I wash them!!

I also love to play sports. However, besides some little league baseball I haven’t really played organized sports. And it’s not for a lack of trying. I tried out for baseball in high school to no avail (apparently missing every pitch in the soft toss is not how Albert Pujols got his start). I also tried out for basketball. I was a senior though and could only make varsity. And apparently the varsity team already had the short, uncoordinated, winded guy they needed to fill out the team (dang you Wilhelm Rumpleplutz…that spot was MINE). And I was going to try out for football. I was in a weight training class (I know this may be hard for many of you to believe based on my physique, I was not teaching the class) that was taught by the legendary varsity football coach, an old gruff man. Much like in those inspirational movies, I walked up to the coach in class and asked when football tryouts were. He literally looked me up and down and laughed. Needless to say, it was a short movie. My spirit broken, I did the next manliest thing I could think of and went to the school library. It taught me a good lesson though. I didn’t need to be on the football team and I certainly didn’t need the inevitable knee injuries and respect from my peers that would inevitably result from my joining the team.

So, I find solace in playing pickup games of basketball (and sometimes football) with other guys. And despite the shortcomings I listed above (and others like a general lack of coordination), I can generally hold my own…tears in check after I somehow snatch defeat from the jaws of victory for my team.

Incidentally, I find the paradox between the manly image a sporting man projects and reality amusing. The manlier a sport is seen as by society, generally the tighter the pants are and the more physical contact between sweaty men (ie. football). It is funny to think that most guys on the basketball court would cringe if they accidentally brushed hands with any of the other guys while say, walking around a sporting goods store (ladies, if it helps, you can assume the mall in that analogy). Yet they will enthusiastically bump and bounce up against other guys as long as the game is in process. And trust me, that kind of behavior is only acceptable while the game is in process. Any further bumping, even two seconds after the game-winning basket is made, will award the perpetrator a black eye and a lifetime ban from the court in question. Unless that contact is a butt-pat which for some odd reason is acceptable (once again, timing here is critical…there is a fine line between a purely platonic butt-pat and butt-cuppage – my solution to avoid a mix-up is to avoid buttal contact entirely).

Well, I hoped this little journey into the male psyche proved worth the time to read it. I hope to see you dudes out on the court in the future. I also hope that my wife doesn’t read this column with the oversensitivity found in every woman. If that is the case, I will be bringing my sleeping bag outside to the doghouse.

(Of course I am kidding about all of the generalities I made above. I was completely kidding. I understand that every human is a unique individual, free from the boundaries of behavior society tends to burden them with based on gender. Now can I come back in the bed honey?)

Allow me to digress for a moment. 6 hours a day is considered “full day” kindergarten. This “full day” involves probably 13 minutes of actual work after all the recesses and lunch breaks. I think most labor unions could learn a thing or two about negotiating workloads from the kindergarteners…they are ruthless.

As this blog discusses education, I thought it may be a good idea to impart some knowledge to you, the loyal reader. In reality, the term kindergarten actually means “A program or class for four-year-old to six-year-old children that serves as an introduction to school.” (this information was obtained online from dictionary.com)(the previous comment was what is known as a “citation”. Interestingly, a “citation” is also what you get for streaking your neighborhood wearing nothing but a pair of socks and a purple wig…err…at least that’s what I hear.) I guess kindergarten does serve as an introduction of sorts. The kind of introduction that says ‘here is something completely unlike the next 12 years you will spend in school’. I have lovingly developed this opinion based on two sources of information: 1.) my own experience in school, and 2.) Ashton’s description of what he’s done every day in school.

For your benefit, the following is an example of a typical day in school for Ashton:

At approximately 7:15 we drop him off at school. For the next 15 minutes he shares the playground with about 834 other children.

At 7:30 am the kids are called into their classroom. They then work on mentally grueling tasks such as “coloring”, “shape-guessing”, and urgently holding up their hands signaling a full bladder.

At 9am they are released for recess. Here they learn things such as “how to mock the kid with glasses”, “synonyms for defecation”, and “how to ensure every item of clothing is coated in an even layer of dirt”.

After 15 minutes of recess, the kids go back in for some more “work”. I gather this is the point where they draw their heads on various creatures. Of course one cannot do such a thing for much more than an hour so they head out to lunch at 10:30.

At Ashton’s school, the cafeteria is shared by students from a myriad of grade levels. And, demonstrating the planning only our Government is capable of, the cafeteria is located only about 3/4 of a mile from the kindergarten classrooms. I may have slightly exaggerated the distance, but it is far enough that the kids ride in a bus to the cafeteria when it is raining (seriously). During open house, Ashton took us to the cafeteria and Karina and I were amazed by how far the kids have to walk for lunch. Us adults were winded from the walk and our legs are 3 and a half times as long as the average kindergarteners. I think I may petition the school board to add a rest stop midway.

After lunch the kids do their “specials”. No, this is not another synonym for defecation. It is actually a different activity the kids do each day. For example, on Tuesdays the kids do music (can we all agree a kindergarten music teacher has to be the most patient person on planet Earth?), Wednesdays is the library, Thursday is computer lab, and Friday’s are Physical Education (also known as “P.E.”,” gym”, or “torture” if you are the kid everyone is using as the designated dodge ball target). The one I am still unsure about is Monday’s. According to the calendar, this “special” is counseling. I still haven’t gathered what that actually is. Perhaps the teacher asks the kids how it made them feel when Barbie’s arm fell off or they show them ink blots to see what the kids imagine. At that age however, I would assume all the blots would look like a booger or poo (WHOOP WHOOP!!!! ATTENTION: I have just set a new personal blog record with my third reference to doody! I would like to thank my family for always believing in me).

I think there may be another union mandated recess or smoke-break at some point in the afternoon. Then, at 2:05, it is time for the kids to head home. This is when we ask Ashton for the details on what he did at school and he responds with “I don’t know” or “stuff”.

In reality however, Ashton has a great teacher and is taking a full interest in school. I am really happy to see that he is growing in terms of his social skills and knowledge. I think that perhaps he will find, as I did, that school can be a rewarding venture that leads to self-awareness, a larger knowledge base, and an average of 2 wedgies per week.

On Monday morning, Karina and I surprised the kids by telling them we were going to go on vacation that day. Their excitement and enthusiasm was immediately rewarded with a 7 hour ride in the van. Karina had to stay in Tucson a bit longer than me and the kids so she could attend the funeral of her good friend’s husband (side note: Dan Forchione tragically passed away on September 29. He faithfully served his community as a member of the University of Arizona Police Department and left behind a loving wife and beautiful 9 month old daughter. R.I.P. Dan.). As a result, I drove Ashton and Lynsey to San Diego and Karina flew in later with Alyson.

The drive to San Diego was very, very, very uneventful. I was alone up front while Ashton and Lynsey watched DVDs in the back of the van. It was the traveling equivalent of watching paint dry. But at least the scenery was terrible. I had brought only one CD to listen to and the only radio stations I could pick up most of the way were from south of the border (not that I don’t like the accordion, I just couldn’t understand the lyrics). As a result, I ended up conversing with our talking GPS most of the way. We have affectionately named her ‘Betsy’. A brief transcript of the trip:

Me: Hey Betsy, how is it going?
Betsy: In two miles, exit to the right and merge onto I-8 West.
Me: Haha. You said “I ate west”. How did it taste?
Betsy: Continue on I-8 for 330 miles.
Me: Karina never laughs at that one either. So what’s up?

That conversation may seem desperate, but please don’t feel bad. Betsy gave me more attention in that conversation than I got from females all four years of high school combined.

We finally arrived in San Diego and, after checking into our hotel, Ashton, Lynsey, and I headed to the airport to pick up the girls. While we waited for Karina’s plane to arrive, I bought the kids their first souvenirs at the airport. They each got their own snow globe (or in this case, glitter/plastic chunks globe). Lynsey managed to drop hers in the concourse within approximately three minutes. I cleaned up the plastic as much as I could and took her to the bathroom to wash the liquid from her feet. I wondered what the people walking by thought as the glittery mess made it appear as if Rainbow Brite had just blown chunks (pardon my slang, for those of you unfamiliar with this term, to ‘blow chunks’ means to chunder).

Once our family was reunited, we headed to our hotel for a relaxing night of sleep before our first big day. We stayed at the Doubletree Club Hotel in the Hotel Circle are of San Diego (this area is aptly named as there is a high concentration of hotels and it is roughly shaped like a crooked rectangle). We had high expectations for the hotel considering the price we were paying during what I would think is an off-season for tourism. Unfortunately, we were fairly disappointed for a few reasons. First of all the room was very crooked. My ears practically dropped from teh change in altitude from one side to the other. I felt like I was in a villain’s lair in the old 60′s Batman TV series (you know, the one that excessively used onomatopoeia during fight sequences: “BOOM”, “POW”, “BARRACK”). The walls were super thin as well. This did not bother us so much as we had quiet neighbors. However, I am sure they were far less than pleased to have 3 kids under 7 years old rooming next door to them. There was also a VERY used bandage in the covers provided for one of the kids’ bunks. See Exhibit A for proof.

Exhibit A

(Side note: How does whoever has a gaping flesh wound such as the one previously covered by that grotesque bandage not realize their band-aid is missing?! And how does the bandage not get caught in the WASHING MACHINE I COUNT ON DOUBLETREE TO USE BEFORE I SLEEP IN THEIR BED?!?!)

But all this shouldn’t matter as long as there is a good bed to sleep in. Unfortunately, the bed was strike 4. It was as, Karina likes to refer to it, a “taco bed”. In other words, the bed is shaped very much like a taco and so, after 8 hours of sleep, any object is inevitably drawn towards the center of the bed, not unlike a black hole.

To top off the whole hotel situation, the hotel charged $14 per day for parking!! For the love!! For $14 a day, I could have gotten half of a Motel 6 room including the bed, semi-functional cooling unit, and assorted fungi and bacteria! Plus the parks charged $12 for parking requiring us to fork over  a whopping total of $26 per day, just to park my car!! I need to invent some sort of car-stacking mechanism whereby three cars can park on top of each other. That way when you travel with friends to amusement parks and hotels, you’d only pay 1/3 the normal charge for parking (See illustration for design details):

David that is ingenious, I need to remember to keep that to myself.

Days 2 and 3
On the second day of the vacation we all agreed to visit Legoland. We excitedly packed into the van for the half hour drive to Carlsbad. Eagerly we headed towards the park only to find a sign that said “Legoland: Closed”. Yep, we pulled a total Griswold. Apparently Legoland is not open on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, at least in October. I felt so bad as we drove the half hour back to San Diego. But, this gave us the opportunity to hit Seaworld which we all loved.

At Seaworld we spent the day gazing at giant, blubbery creatures who spend all day eating. And, in addition to the tourists, there were sea creatures! It was fascinating to learn how all of the glorious animals on display live in the wild. For example, Orca’s travel in pods and sometimes play with their food, dolphins enjoy playing within their pod, and apparently sea lions enjoy wearing silly hats while dancing with humans. At least that’s what I took away.

In addition to the animals there was a cute Sesame-Street themed kids area (The Count: “How many sea creatures have been captured and put on display to illustrate vy sea creatures should be left alone? One sea creature…two sea creatures…Ah, Ah, Ah [this episode demonstrated in the picture below]) and cool ride called “Journey to Atlantis” that was a blast. Overall, we gave the park a Varner family 9 thumbs up.

Here are pictures I offer as proof that we were actually at Seaworld and enjoying ourselves…

Days 4 and 5
On Thursday we headed back to Carlsbad to check out Legoland. The park was surprisingly large and definitely geared towards younger children. The rides were generally no bigger than those you’d find at the fair. On the plus side, the rides were not set up on a tractor trailer the night before. While the park was only open until 5pm, we were able to hit all of the rides over the course of two days. Our final family rating was 5 thumbs up.

Here are some pictures of us at Legoland. As an added bonus, I have included a picture showing our favorite Lego exhibit. It was a (unintentional?) portrayal of a violent vehicular/pedestrian accident.

Day 6
On the last day we spent some time exploring the San Diego area. We first went to Seaport Village, a quaint shopping district with numerous, unique shops. From there we hit the USS Midway museum. This was my personal favorite part of the trip as I love all things aircraft carrier. Being on an actual aircraft was very exciting for me. (I am the red blob in the picture below)

Finally we went to Coronado, which I hear is very beautiful. I will have to take those people whom I heard it from’s words as it was incredibly foggy (See picture).

We went to the beach and I’m pretty sure I actually saw some of the ocean. The kids were enormously excited to go to the beach. Ashton wanted to look for seashells and Lynsey wanted me to help her build a sand castle. You’ll be happy to know both of their dreams were crushed. Ashton was able to find only two broken pieces of seashell. I figured by his reaction that it was time for an uplifting life lesson from dad. So I told him that God makes beautiful seashells, much like each of us. Then the seagulls of life’s bitter disappointments come to feed on the meaty innards of happiness. By the time they are done, all that remains is a broken, empty shell of the beautiful creature that once existed. I think he got the point.

Lynsey’s disappointment had to do more with unrealistically high expectations. The only castles she knows are those in the Barbie and Disney movies. They are always enormous, shiny structures with numerous turrets and flags waving about. What I ended up creating resembled more of a Water Buffalo turd. I explained that her daddy wasn’t an architect or a sculptor and that someday, when she needs to determine the net present value of a given cash flow, she will learn to appreciate my unique talents.

Here is a picture of me working on my masterpiece (cut me some slack. Some castles must have looked like cakes)…

Day 7
On Sunday we packed up and headed back to Tucson. Thankfully I had Karina up front to talk to as she played her Nintendo DS. Now that we are back at home, it’s time to start planning the next vacation. I’ll start researching which hotels offer “tostada mattresses”.