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... out looking for the Straight Path?
Aug. 4th, 2003 02:01 amSo I was off in San Diego, visiting family -- it was Uncle Richie's 53rd birthday, and the realization came upon me that nobody except his family calls him "Richie" -- Richard to the world is "Richie" to his mother and siblings and nieces and nephews. Ah well.
That was an entertaining trip. We've done this traditionally, the trip out to San Diego to visit the uncle on his birthday. There's a pattern to it. We stay at the same hotel, which is always a very similar, if pleasant, experience. We go to the beach and do a bit of surfing -- he's a gracefully aging longboarder. We visit with the cousins, who are very much no longer children...
The suburbs out north of San Diego (Carlsbad, Encinitas, Solana Beach, Cardiff...) constitute one of the loveliest places on the face of the planet. It's got this super-dry climate with a near-constant seabreaze (although it rained while we were there this time, which I'm told is bizarre) and temperatures that are pleasantly warmish, but not oppressively hot. You can wear a sweatshirt at night, in the summer. It's all full of hills, and there's a very distinct directionality to the place -- easy to navigate, because "down the hill" is almost always "towards the ocean" which is always "west". Palm trees. Rocks. Sunshine. The Pacific Ocean. Beautiful, tan, fit people (both youngish and oldish -- and sometimes it's hard to tell which is which), out running and riding bikes along the Pacific Coast Highway with its wide bike-lane, or on their way to the beach to go surfing. Veggie food all over the place, fresh produce, mango smoothies...
In short, I approve of this area and have officially added it to the List Of Possible Places For Alex-Residency (LOPPFAR) -- other list entries include "Atlanta, near Piedmont Park" and "Barcelona".
While we were out 'n' about, I finished up American Gods, went for two longish runs (one was on the beach, barefoot, out to the Farthest Point I Could See On The Beach, and the other was from the hotel out to the Next Town Over And Back, which took me down the lovely Pacific Coast Highway and into Solana Beach), started working the exercises from Learning Perl (my Perl kung-fu is weak, but quickly improving), and popped by, with Cousin Cora, to the thoroughly excellent Lou's Records, which I think is the funkiest record store anywhere... they had this rack full o' ska (the fellow behind the counter told me he'd snagged a whole lot of ska disks for Very Cheap) and I acquired, for $12 total, disks from The Pie Tasters, The Toasters, and a big compilation from Moon Ska. Very, very nice.
There's not a whole lot of time between now and the road trip to pick up Marty. We're leaving this next Saturday that happens... yow.
... and I'm thinking, that if anybody else is going to Dragon*Con in costume (Psi-U folks?), then I'm going to have to cosplay as Spider from Transmetropolitan. That's pretty geeky. But I look like him, or could, at least, if I can figure out a way to get glasses like that...
That was an entertaining trip. We've done this traditionally, the trip out to San Diego to visit the uncle on his birthday. There's a pattern to it. We stay at the same hotel, which is always a very similar, if pleasant, experience. We go to the beach and do a bit of surfing -- he's a gracefully aging longboarder. We visit with the cousins, who are very much no longer children...
The suburbs out north of San Diego (Carlsbad, Encinitas, Solana Beach, Cardiff...) constitute one of the loveliest places on the face of the planet. It's got this super-dry climate with a near-constant seabreaze (although it rained while we were there this time, which I'm told is bizarre) and temperatures that are pleasantly warmish, but not oppressively hot. You can wear a sweatshirt at night, in the summer. It's all full of hills, and there's a very distinct directionality to the place -- easy to navigate, because "down the hill" is almost always "towards the ocean" which is always "west". Palm trees. Rocks. Sunshine. The Pacific Ocean. Beautiful, tan, fit people (both youngish and oldish -- and sometimes it's hard to tell which is which), out running and riding bikes along the Pacific Coast Highway with its wide bike-lane, or on their way to the beach to go surfing. Veggie food all over the place, fresh produce, mango smoothies...
In short, I approve of this area and have officially added it to the List Of Possible Places For Alex-Residency (LOPPFAR) -- other list entries include "Atlanta, near Piedmont Park" and "Barcelona".
While we were out 'n' about, I finished up American Gods, went for two longish runs (one was on the beach, barefoot, out to the Farthest Point I Could See On The Beach, and the other was from the hotel out to the Next Town Over And Back, which took me down the lovely Pacific Coast Highway and into Solana Beach), started working the exercises from Learning Perl (my Perl kung-fu is weak, but quickly improving), and popped by, with Cousin Cora, to the thoroughly excellent Lou's Records, which I think is the funkiest record store anywhere... they had this rack full o' ska (the fellow behind the counter told me he'd snagged a whole lot of ska disks for Very Cheap) and I acquired, for $12 total, disks from The Pie Tasters, The Toasters, and a big compilation from Moon Ska. Very, very nice.
There's not a whole lot of time between now and the road trip to pick up Marty. We're leaving this next Saturday that happens... yow.
... and I'm thinking, that if anybody else is going to Dragon*Con in costume (Psi-U folks?), then I'm going to have to cosplay as Spider from Transmetropolitan. That's pretty geeky. But I look like him, or could, at least, if I can figure out a way to get glasses like that...
