Life of Wry

Checked out of the Crowne Plaza, swung through PV to say a quick buh bye to mom, then took Peter to Legends in Huntington Beach. He’s going to spend the next day with Matt and Michael.

Matt was out but returning soon, so we hung out and waited.. This was the first time any of us had seen Legends in full swing, since they opened in July. The place looks just GREAT–handsome, professional, well-cared for–even if it is a sports bar. The place was full, but not wall-to-wall packed like we’ve seen the Long Beach Legends.  It was noisy and sportsy.. not our scene, but a great vibe.

Wish we’d thought to get lunch. This is the bar menu (happy hour, late night… all of it looked pretty appetizing!).

Michael was also there, working on setting up the Christmas tree… it was nice to see him, too, if briefly.

This is the entry foyer, a round room–very attractive–that is surfer-themed.

We transferred Peter’s stuff from our car to Matt’s and took off. I was unexpectedly emotional about this… but recovered quickly. I’m thrilled Peter’s getting some alone uncle/s time. Jim and I think this may be the first time he’s stayed with family without us around.

Even though it was only Saturday, the 405 and 5 were both very holiday-traffic-impacted. Add the rain and it was a difficult and long commute (9 1/2 hours from HB to Davis… at least two hours longer than it should have taken).  There was a dusting of snow on some of the higher peaks along the Grapevine:

Other than that.. largely uneventful.

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The drive is always a bit tedious. When I’m by myself, the journey is the story… it’s about ticking off of a series of roadside milestones (Stockton, Santa Nella, Harris Ranch, Bakersfield turnoff, Leval Road, Grapevine), knowing where I should be when, and then the concomitant arrival time re-calculations and adjustments. That’s what I do, …constantly… usually for hours on end. Keeps me busy and engaged.

And singing. I sing whatever lyrics I know of whatever song comes up on random shuffle.. I do love that part, though five or seven or nine hours of singing gets wearying after awhile. I can usually pick up NPR for the legs before the Grapevine and after the final big bend in the road that takes you into Stockton (or the reverse, when driving southbound, of course). Books have been good, but I never plan enough in advance for that. Last great one was the whole of Tina Fey’s Bossy Pants. Hilarious. 

When Jim and/or Peter are along, it’s a whole ‘nuther ballgame. Jim does so much of the driving, I actually lose myself in Facebook or Spider, or internet rabbit holes. I may not even be aware of milestones…  “Have we passed Harris Ranch yet?” (And funnily, Jim was not even sure when I asked that question tonight; he clearly is not as travel-OCD as I am.)

I’d love to figure out one day how many times I’ve made this trip since moving to Davis nearly 39 years ago. Many hundreds, at least.