And my favorite of his recordings, the Live 2019 Big Band:
So, he announced a trio of "big band" shows, two in Colorado in March and one in May in LA. Hoping that maybe the LA one would be likely to have Sam Wilkes playing bass (it did not, but the bass player held his own) we opted for LA, since driving to CO in March could have weather related risks (and flying to Denver seems just not quite worth it). We had spare flight credits from all the fun we had with Southwest over Christmas, and used them. So that's the backstory...kids stayed with grandparents and we were off Thursday morning to the new airport. We parked not in the garage, but in the lot next to the garage (which is more expensive than economy but not as much as the garage) because we were obviously in Treat Yo'self mode. New airport is great! We didn't have TSA Precheck set on our boarding passes, so we just went through regular TSA, like a peasant. But eventually making it to our gate, we got some breakfast/lunch and didn't have too long to wait for our flight. For some reason they have statues made of saxophones hanging from the ceiling. Artists, sheesh.
Flight went OK, although the last leg into CA was a bit bumpy, I had clawmarks in my leg from Debra who was NOT A FAN of that at all. Trying out the new Southwest direct route our desination was not LAX but Long Beach, which turned out to be a charming little airport.
I think this is the old tower (there's a taller one south of the runway). Rental car companies just behind it, everything is very compact and convenient. Except, notably, our rental car, which was a Mitsubishi Dreadnought or whatever the name is, giant SUV...I of course had requested merely the cheapest small compact they had, but that's what they gave me.
We got the requisite In-N-Out just south of the airport in Long Beach, and looked for snacks at Trader Joe's...of which we have some at home, of course, but Trader Joe's just feels more correct in California.
Then heading down past Seal Beach I spotted a destroyer close to the shore. DDG-104, the USS Sterett. Turns out this is a smaller Navy installation (Naval Weapons Station Seal Beach) that is mainly used to load munitions.
We stopped at Bolsa Chica state beach, even though it was rather chilly, because you can't fly all that way and not even just wade in the ocean. Well, I can't, anyway.
I didn't swim. Debra was not interested in having to fish me out in case of an emergency.
The surly pelican was unimpressed.
We headed back up to the "visitors center" which was...not really much of one, but that's OK, CA has to man these stations up and down the entire coastline. Whale skull one of the more interesting exhibits, I guess.
But yeah, nothing you need to pencil in on your agenda.
A completely unplanned stop at something a road sign called "WWII SUB MEMORIAL"...we had time so why not...it had us pull into the NWS entry point, but thankfully the memorial was on the outside of the security station.
It is small, but poignant. The names of submariners from each submarine lost at sea are inscribed here.
"Still on Patrol."
The only nuke subs represented here, the post-war losses of the Thresher and Scorpion. I had just recently read about the Thresher and Debra was just reading Hunt for Red October.
Then bidding the place a somber adieu, back on the road.
We got to the hotel and checked in...this time the Anaheim Hotel, a nicer place than our usual haunt (but not "Disney Nice"). Oh, I should have said...Debra, playing her cards right, had negotiated a day at Disneyland. Pretty grounds there and not a lot of road noise, located on Harbor Blvd.
Debra knew the kids would appreciate a picture of this local.
Then we walked up the street to go into, if not the park as such, the free Downtown Disney district. Our other usual hotel (Park Vue) is visible below, but I'm pretty sure I took this picture just so I could channel Albert Brooks in Lost in America..."The Desert Inn Has Heart! The Desert Inn Has Heart!"
Getting into the throng of people at Downtown Disney...we realized that today was May 4th. Ohhh god the NERDS will be out. I mean, while I did get some enjoyment shouting "NERDS!" at various cosplaying weirdos waving plastic light swords at each other, I guess it's less the actual legit nerds that annoy me but the corporatized, mainstreamed acceptance of Star Wars to the point that DisneyCorps turns this groan-worthy "May the Fourth" pun into a fully monetized national holiday. So yeah, I don't even know who I'm mad at WHY ARE WE YELLING
Passing the LEGO store.
We went all the way down to the Disneyland Hotel, which is kind of a low tier hotel with very much not low tier prices.
Our intent was hitting up Trader Sam's, but it would take 90 minutes to get a table, so we opted not.
Walking around in the greenery on the west side of the district. I think there was a wedding rehearsal or something in progress. We tried the various gift shops looking for a shirt or hoodie for Debra.
Then back to the hotel, one of the advantages of which was the adjoining Pizza Press restaurant. It's the Subway approach, you pay a base price and just tell them what to put on it from a variety of toppings at the counter and they run it through the conveyor oven. I think mine had sun dried tomatoes, spicy red sauce, cheese, pepperoni, italian sausage, olives, roasted red peppers, jalapenos, pineapple, and basil. Was good! Debra got something similar but went for red onion instead of sun dried tomatoes and basil.
We listened to a podcast about the latest travails at Fox News and went to bed early...unwisely, though, because we were summarily awoken by the 9:30 fireworks.
Next morning we were up early, still being on central time (as we essentially remained for the whole trip). Hotel room coffee and cold leftover pizza for breakfast, and then we headed out...noting with a bit of shock that there was a decent amount of rain coming down. We thought about it, and when it eased up a bit (it was forecast to pass in an hour or so) we walked up the street, found a gift shop at the Park Vue Inn, and bought a couple ponchos, before heading in to the park.
Getting in early prior to rope drop.
We ambled up Main Street, stopping by one of the movie theatres to buy a "Lightning Lane" thing for Mickey and Minnie's Runaway Railway, a new ride in the Toon Town area Debra wanted to try.
We had also sprung for the Genie+ service, which I hate to admit it, we will always do. If you're going to spend the stupid money to get into Disneyland, spend the extra stupid money. Maybe if you lived in LA and went more regularly or had a pass, just go into the park and enjoy yourself and suffer the longer lines, but this helped us get a lot more "done" in our day. Space Mountain (rebranded...in a kind of cheap way...for Star Wars) first up.
Disneyland is always green, but spring is one of the few times in Southern California where you feel the green may be slightly natural.
The Snow White Grotto, which is a very different thing than Trader Sam's Grog Grotto, but I feel like a fusion (Snow White's Grog Grotto) might prove popular.
Walking through Fantasyland. We didn't do any of the old rides here. Peter Pan is fun, but the line is always long.
Then into Toon Town to use our reserved pass...we got a tiny bag of mini donuts and a bottled water for ELEVEN DOLLARS because Debra was kind of not feeling great and thought she needed to eat. The skyline effect is actually pretty cool here, particularly on cloudy days when it is more noticeable.
So then onto the new ride, Mickey and Minnie's Runaway Railway. They shuffled us into a small room with a movie screen that they projected on a Mickey/Minnie cartoon short to start the whole ride thing. I however was disturbed by a new change in the aesthetics of the new cartoons.
"When did they start making Minnie go topless?!"
"Of course YOU would notice that!"
"Listen woman! I've got eyes! Ahm a red-blooded American male!"
I riffed a bit further, adopting my Soviet Mischa Mouse character to decry lewd and degenerate Western cartoon, at least until I was sufficiently elbowed in the ribs to cease, and then we proceeded with the actual ride, which progressed....20 feet!
The ride stopped there and we were locked in while they cleared it of people, our car being apparently one of the last to be let off. Since we paid for the experience, we got a free voucher to use at a later time when the ride reopened (as did the regular proles who had just waited in the line). But you can imagine the glee Mischa Mouse would feel in denouncing the capitalist Michael Mouse who fails to even make his runaway railway run on time. I don't think we were supposed to be able to see the ceiling and lighting systems...
Off we went to our next Genie+ reservation, crossing the park past the Matterhorn (down for maintenance).
The Haunted Mansion (in standard, non-holiday configuration).
Then, because it was cold, wet, and we were in ponchos, there was no better time to hop in the very short line for Splash Mountain which was still running in its classic configuration (it's getting a makeover as a Frog Princess thing). We still managed to get a bit wet.
Then we headed north to Starwarsland.
We got one of those odd breakfast pitas with egg/cheese/long skinny sausage from Ronto Roasters and rode "Smugglers Run" there, with Debra and I taking pilot duty. It doesn't make a lot of sense to divide pilot's duties between pitch and yaw (no roll is provided) but it lets you involve more people. I got pitch, she got yaw.
Thence to the bastion of Polynesian authenticity, the Tiki Room.
The Gods outside the entrance are very...mixed...sorta like if you picked a god from each island and mashed it all together in a quasi-pan-Polynesian culture. But hey, that's fine. As far as I know there are no serious worshippers of Tangaroa who make the pilgrimage to his shrine here.
Likewise, the show is similarly mixed, despite having a version of "Hawaiian War Chant" in the lineup. I'm still unsure why they made the parrots Mexican, French, German, and Irish. I mean a Mexican parrot makes sense, I'm sure there are plenty of parrots in the Yucatan. But the close-harmony parrots of County Cork? Less believable.
Our hilarious little curse continued when we rode Big Thunder Mountain...getting stuck, after the ride, about 50 feet from the unloading zone, due to an unknown malfunction. We sat out there in the sun for a bit, eventually getting an umbrella to shield ourselves. It did afford the chance to look with detail at some of the scenery, which is hobbit-scale. Another rail system failure DUE TO CAPITALIST GREED THAT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN IN SOVIET UNION.
When they let us off the ride finally the cast members said something about there only being a little bit we didn't get to do (which was true, it just circled another 50 feet to the loading zone) at which I objected "but that's my favorite part of the ride!!" perhaps a little too loudly, prompting another elbow in the side. So we offloaded and headed off on our way (getting another "free" pass to another ride).
We got a pretzel and while trying to find our next ride, I noted a very Towelie like coincidence with a ride that would either be one of his favorites...or possibly the most terrifying experience of his life, depending on the chemicals involved.
We retried the Mickey and Minnie ride, and I made sure to capture, furtively, a picture to prove it was not merely a moral panic on my part, but that the WOKE DISNEY CORPORATION is selling lewd cartoons to children! I have censored the image to protect the sensibilities of my audience.
But we made it through the ride and trotted off to maybe take a ride on the train to the exit...but the line was long, so we walked it.
Back to the hotel for a midday nap and a LOT of icewater. The pretzels were really salty. That's the benefit of a hotel across the street.
Late afternoon return to the park...
First up was Indiana Jones.
Then we burned our extra "skip the line" pass on Pirates.
For grins we did the Buzz Lightyear ride which I took altogether too seriously (but I managed to improve on Debra's score by about 20000 points).
After that we did the castle walkthrough, which I was disappointed to find doesn't include any views from the top of Disneyland...but as I thought about it...Disney is not meant to be seen from above (blocky air handlers on flat industrial roofs spoil the magic). From there into a terrifically long line (we had time to burn) for Rise of the Resistance.
After that we went over to grab a snack by the Tiki Room at the Tropical Hideaway...
Got a bao, pork lumpia, and pineapple sweet lumpia to share. The music is great here! I heard the Billy Hew Len / Barney Isaacs version of Lovely Hula Hands.
We were going to ride the monorail, but opted instead to order another small pizza from Pizza Press and call it a night. So out of the park we went. We heard the fireworks from the hotel and (that having passed) were free to fall asleep.
Next morning was bright and sunny. Pizza and grapes (which we had gotten at TJ's) for breakfast.
I learned these are bottlebrush trees, originally from Australia. Remind me of 'ohia lehua a bit.
We jaunted over to a mostly empty Downtown Disney to do a bit of shopping. Debra insisted on yet another pretzel! But, she usually gets what she wants (we are in Disneyland of course).
Tangaroa Terrace on the other side of Trader Sam's.
The diorama of Big Thunder in the Adventureland tower of Disneyland Hotel.
I don't remember the story but this was a fake geyser created for Disneyland and perhaps moved here after retirement?
Too early to patronise Trader Sam's, of course.
We bought a California hoodie for Debra, a Star Wars shirt and small LEGO set for Pete and headed back to check out of the hotel. From there we drove north, our intent to visit the historic Olvera Street district (and get some good Mexican food). Couldn't help but notice this billboard positively SCREAMING this word at us. RIGHT BACK ATCHA
Parking was a nightmare and while it felt like we circled for hours, it was probably 20-30 minutes and we eventually found decent parking at Union Station, a short trot away. Walking up to the back of it, here, we were curious and poked our heads into an open door...to be promptly inquired about our presence, and informed that that section was not for the general public. Whoops! Excuse us tourists.
Coming up on Olvera Street.
First stop was La Noche Buena, a place we picked semi-randomly, where we bought a plate with taquitos, an enchilada, and a side taco al pastor to share.
We ate it on this bench outside the oldest home in Los Angeles, now a free museum you can walk through.
To have a mid-19th century courtyard like this preserved but with modern buildings in the background is odd, but interesting.
Who am I to say no to random free museums! We walked through the inside which would have been a secondary home for a very rich landowner.
At the end of the street there is Cielito Lindo, where Debra remembers half-choking on a taquito with green avocado salsa many many years ago. The avocado sauce at the first place was...less to her liking, very mild and bland (though it also came with a true green chile salsa that did kind of light you up....maybe if blended they end up just right), so we decided to try this one, with just a single taquito with sauce.
The sauce was soupier here, and a bit more "cooked", with a hint of like chicken stock or something. It was good, just different. I convinced Debra to let us get an agua de jamaica...this one was a bit more sweet, and lacking the (optional) cinnamon of the one I've made in the past.
Walking out I BEGGED Debra to get this Chiefs serape to wear. I mean, first off its a wearable blanket, how do you turn that down, it's perfect for chilly fall football season. Second off, I'm sure we could also find a Chiefs sombrero somewhere to complete the look. She refused.
I'm going to screw this up because I don't know much about Mexican / Hispanic / Mesoamerican dances...this could be indigenous dance, this could be a modern cultural dance in Mexico (or further southern states), this could be reenacted Aztec/Mayan, this could be a lot of things and I don't know what it is so I'm going to avoid attempting to identify it. Who am I kidding, yes I am. It looks related to "Concheros", which has a lot of names...it was a originally a blending of Aztec culture and early Christian/Spanish cultures into a dance form, and it goes by a lot of names (Mexicas, Aztecas...as far as I understand the popular thinking is it actually originated from peoples north of that region such as the Chichimeca tribes and thus was not really an Aztec or Mexica invention), and recently as a political statement are trying to scrub it of European influence. Anyway, it was impressive enough!
The actual entrance to Union Station, where we were allowed in this time.
Then we headed back to our car to check in for our flight the next day. While we were waiting, I got a sad text message...our reservations in Little Tokyo that night had been cancelled. We were planning on going to an esteemed yakitori izakaya there at 6pm (and also do some shopping for a present for G). But the master chef was ill, and so they couldn't open; I replied wishing him a speedy recovery and thanking them for the incredibly helpful courtesy of letting us know ahead of time, rather than just putting a sign up at the restaurant. Our plans scuppered, we opted to just head to our next hotel destination, in Hollywood.
After taking it easy at the hotel in Thai Town on Hollywood Boulevard, we went a bit further west and parked in a more central location to explore Hollywood. We went to a dumpling house for dinner and got steamed pork dumplings, and a fried pork-and-fennel gyoza-style dumpling. The latter sounded good on paper; but Debra -really- didn't like them, and the fennel honestly tasted a lot more like dill than fennel (they do look alike...did someone get confused??). I realized I should have gone with my first instinct and gotten the dan-dan noodles. But no big deal. Obviously I was laying the chili crisp on heavily.
Knowing we were going to walk past this intersection I had to bring Bootsy along..."gettin' my eyes fed on Hollywood and Vine!"
Hennifer Lopez impressions (in South Park Senor Wences style) have been a part of my repertoire for a very, very long time. I would have actually taken a serious "I found his star!" picture of Martin Short's star since I'm obviously such a big fan, but it turns out, he doesn't have one. I'm assuming, given the low bar evidenced by some of the questionable "stars" on the Walk of Fame, he just refused for whatever reason. Same with Steve Martin!
The BEST of HENNIFER LOPEZ!
Killing time waiting for the doors open at the Fonda Theater...we hit up this hipster music megastore. The "bouncer" at the door (is there such a thing?? I mean he looked like a bouncer and carried himself thus) commented with approval on my Bootsy shirt.
Finally found the, errr, "ethnic" section I guess you would call it. "World music", that genre that encompasses "music not done in AngloAmerican styles with English lyrics". But two absolute CLASSICS here from Mahi Beamer (with Jules Ah See on steel) and George Kainapau (not sure if Jules, but at 1959...could've been!). EDIT after listening to online versions...THAT HAS TO BE JULES. Those are "Jules" fills and while lots of people eventually played his style, in 1959, he was the only one sounding like that. I could be wrong, but that's my guess.
Another classic, in the Hindustani section...one of the first steel guitarists playing Indian classical (as long as you don't count vichitra veena).
And then...ok, this being the justification of the whole trip. We waited in line for the doors to open, chatting with fellow fans. I admit I just said "we" and "fellow fans" in the same sentence, Debra doesn't dislike Louis Cole per se, but she was not the impetus for us being there. And I briefly considered enlightening the two other guys we were talking to...if you want to drag your significant other along to a Louis Cole show, the key is...Disneyland.
Unfortunately...because it was all that I found I could purchase...we only had GA floor tickets. There were actual seats in the balcony, who knows how you bought those, but I absolutely would have. We're old, we don't enjoy clamoring among the sweaty masses of the proletariat any more. However, because we were in early, we staked out a good spot on a raised side section with a railing in front of us. Unfortunately this proved to be too good a thing, and it eventually was contended for.
The show started at 9PM Pacific time (roughly, way past our bedtime central time), and began with Genevieve Artadi as an opener. So...she has a couple songs I quite like on one of her older solo albums (not played in this set)(and many that just...well, I'm not a huge fan of, otherwise). She is half of the band KNOWER with Louis Cole and a frequent collaborater with him, hence her opening for his show. Debra is decidedly NOT a fan. If you dig it, good on you (although Debra would say STOP ENCOURAGING HER), but some of it is just a bit too "I studied jazz in graduate school" for me. I studied jazz as an undergrad and when I say "studied jazz" I mean I played really poorly in a jazz combo and took an improv class designed for completely hopeless music education majors who couldn't improvise their way out of a wet cardboard box. Anyway, I was going to get a picture of her rolling her eyes derisively during the set but the lighting wasn't right.
During the Artadi set there was this couple, from whom the girl kept encroaching on Debra's space without any concern, obviously inhibitions degraded severely with the consistent, repeated application of alcohol. That was annoying at the time, but so much less annoying than what happened after the set concluded, before LC came out. We had been trying to hold our ground as Churchill would have had it...fighting them on the beaches, on the landing grounds...we shall fight in the fields and the streets, and in the hills, we shall never surrender. We shall defend our little spot of fence, whatever the cost may be.
So during the intermission I guess the girl conceded a few feet away from her spot (next to Debra) on this little fence area for a few seconds, and up storms middle-age California bitch Karen to jump straight into that spot. A disagreement breaks out instantly, and while the first girl was certainly under the influence, the second one is many wines into revealing just how much of a shameless selfish prick she is. Her level of inebriation and obvious lack of concern for anyone other than herself is such that Debra gives me the "absolutely, under no circumstances, intervene" look, so while at some points I would have stood up for the previous, admittedly kind of annoying semi-drunk chick over this new completely wasted pair of jerks, I did not intervene to vouch for her. The injustice of the situation affronted me...these people had held that position through the entire Genevieve Artadi set and ...ok I'm not going to make jokes at her expense any more, the only reason I'm doing that is to appeal to the primary reader (other than myself) of this blog anyway, and she was there. But yeah, our new neighbors were an entitled and utterly insufferable pair of assholes whom God could have cursed no more severely than to destine them to be together. It kind of soured the appeal of the concert partially, for a while anyway, as they loudly and drunkenly repeated the goofy/funny things Louis might say into the mic. And this middle-aged woman was really into her hair...thinking I have to at least shield Debra from having an especially unpleasant time, I swapped places with her, only to be treated with her swishing her damn peroxided hair at me at close range throughout the concert. Man...people suck sometimes.
However, the concert (otherwise) did not! LC came out (wearing the absurd fur crop-top parka featured in some of his videos, and of course, the mannikin keyboard stand) and led with his usual opener, F It Up, starting with the keyboard based looped version before bringing out the full band.
Now I'm going to clarify...if you want video clips of this, go to the original Live 2019 stuff at the beginning of this post, or even just search for this specific show on Youtube, better clips are out there. But this is MY blog, MY rules, MY videos. This is him starting out the loops on the opener (unfortunately I didn't keep it running long enough to get the kickass bassline part). You hear our drunk Karen friend yell something out halfway through, at which point I pan to the right, as if to convey, get a load of this complete dipshit over here. I can't make out (or recall) what idiotic thing she said but I absolutely recall it was soul-crushingly stupid. Look, you might think I'm dwelling too much on these folks, but believe me I had a lot more to describe about them that I'm just leaving off at this point.
Full band in on the opener. The drumming is just incredible.
At some point during the show, Debra suggested we concede our spot and find an asshole-free zone along the wall. It didn't take me long to warm to the idea. So we ceded our excellent view with assholes for a decent wallflower view with normal, intoxicated-but-still-pleasant folks. It was so much better. Drum solo in My Buick:
At one point during the show, LC broke his bass drum and they altered their setlist accordingly...at this point from observation I could basically sketch out what their plans were for the encore (and I was right) based on previous shows. So, while we have a custom of leaving before everyone else at concerts, there was an exemption in place for this one since we stayed for the whole of Silk Sonic. But looking at the expected encore list I was prepared to waive that exemption and leave during the final song of the encore, but I wanted to wait at least for this song, which is awesome in its live version (Freaky Times):
The HORN SOLO!
When that song ended I knew the last two were going to be When You're Ugly and -maybe- a second encore of Thinking, so I said let's bail and we headed out to get our car. Driving back to the hotel, we avoided run-ins with Hollywood late-nighters, by which I mean questionable, possibly homeless, possibly drug addict type folks.
Next morning Debra was...understandably...a bit keen to get out of Hollywood which felt just a bit too Las Vegasy for comfort, with the homeless camps and vaguely hostile air. So she offered an appealing suggestion for killing time before our flight...BB-61, the USS Iowa, down in San Pedro. I think she felt bad with me missing out on the yakitori restaurant I was so keen on (we had reservations at the bar, and this is the one place in LA that uses real binchotan, I am told). I happily accepted! So we drove down that way, and first got desayunos at this amazing Mexican restaurant, I think Maria's Mexican Restaurant in San Pedro. Typical hole-in-the-wall vibe, most people coming in at that time were just getting food to go...but it was delicious. Debra got a typical American style breakfast (although shared some of mine) while I got chorizo and eggs with corn tortillas, rice and beans. The salsa (arbol based?) started Debra coughing and I had to explain to the waitress, no she's fine, this is just a thing that she does, she'll be right as rain in a moment.
The ship opened at 10, so we killed some time at a seaside park.
California being nominally green this time of year...
Then to the ship!
Admittedly, this is my third visit to an Iowa class ship this year. We were in LA (with the whole family) over Christmas (and were at this ship) and I managed to see the New Jersey in March during a work conference that was reasonably close to where she is moored.
We were the first ones on the ship that morning, and we were intending to take it at a fairly brisk pace (can't loiter too long as we had a flight to catch) so the pleasant effect was that we were basically alone for the tour.
Wardroom.
The small white arrow shows a spot of impact damage. I don't remember if it was a bomb, or an enemy shell. But barely put a dent in the thing.
Debra sporting her new California hoodie.
The interior armored bridge.
Exterior to that, the unarmored section (when you need less armor and more visibility).
Powered-up switchboard for the comm system...
Indicators for the screw speed.
What is supposed to happen when the anti-ship missiles start leaking fuel. Yikes!
Tomahawk missile containers. She gained the Harpoons and Tomahawks in her 1980s refit/recommissioning.
A Harpoon.
The place below a 5" mount.
PA system for shipboard announcements...
Master Chief quarters. That's a lot of stripes on that sleeve!
Down in the bakery...
Instructions for what is essentially a gigantic Kitchenaid.
Look at the size of that dough hook! They made a lot of bread, I'm sure.
The MARDET room, Marines entrusted with shipboard security.
We had seen a confusing sign saying "quiet please filming in progress" earlier (if that was the case why were they allowing people to tour the ship?) and in the enlisted mess, I think we ran across the crew. Lots of equipment, some young people in Navy blues who were probably actors. No idea what they were filming!
The ill-fated Bismarck, and the ship it took down first...HMS Hood. We mostly breezed through this section which was just standard museum exhibits; the appeal of this place to me is the actual as-it-was sections, even if they are very pedestrian and otherwise boring like an electronics office or bakery.
CHEATERS...this "artifact" of a German ship, not expressly claimed as genuine, but just included for ambience...includes some obvious artificial aging (only on the front side of this panel?? the sides were just painted and clean), and the labels on those indicators are stickers that are now peeling back.
A poignant exhibit to two of the ships we had recently seen memorialized in Seal Beach...USS Scorpion, here.
And the Thresher, as well.
Now, is that a soft "sh" sound or a harder "ch" sound for pronunciation?
Laundry stations...
The brig for naughty sailors.
Barber shop. Basically this whole thing is like a floating Exchange City, and if you don't know what that is, well, I'm sorry.
A large, kind of weird looking Vicky (ship's mascot). I briefly suggested Debra should climb on top like she was riding it, and they may allow that, but probably only for kids.
Stern view of the port.
And then we were headed out...
But not before I lamented not having the $5 in cash to bring home a completely useless bit of worn teak scrap from the decking...having only $3 in ones, because Debra INSISTED on leaving a $5 tip instead of a $3 tip for our hotel, which I objected to, and look where that has left us Debra! I LOST THE CHANCE TO BRING HOME A COMPLETELY USELESS BIT OF WOOD. THAT IS WHAT WE LOST ARE YOU HAPPY NOW
Saying goodbye before getting underway again...
Then back at Long Beach Airport! Man, this place is great. It's like the anti-LAX.
This time we had them add the TSA precheck authorization at the ticket counter manually. And TSA precheck, that was pretty sweet. Not taking off our shoes like all of the RABBLE over there in Poor People TSA.
It was pretty busy on the Southwest side of the terminal so we (wisely) decided to opt for the empty part of the terminal (Hawaiian flies out of here once in the morning, and receives incoming flights in the evening...nothing in between).
Then onto the plane via the old fashioned outdoor ramps, which are a lot of fun.
Once back in KC, a guy came over the PA system welcoming us to KC and the new airport at MCI, and Debra and I looked at each other...OMG is that...PETER? Not our son, of course, but the voice was unmistakable...this was the Southwest employee that we spent Christmas with, that we had subsequently revered as like, well, the best sort of guy in a terrible customer service situation you could hope for. We even included videos of his announcements in our Christmas blog (referenced/linked above). So when we deplaned, while for once Debra was the shy one, I went up to him and introduced ourselves as having recognized his voice, having spent Christmas day during the meltdown in his care, and expressing how grateful we were. I didn't ask him to take a selfie with us...there are limits, of course. But man, that guy deserved a bonus and a long vacation if anyone did. Airline employees get crapped on all day long for things out of their control, and this guy worked hard as hell to get us to our destination when everything else on Southwest melted down.
Then back in town, getting the kids, and getting home! A fun, brief trip...it was fun doing without the kids in some ways (which we'll have to remember when they grow up and leave the nest), but of course we're enjoying travelling with them, too. And, Louis Cole is the funkiest man alive (who is still touring) (I have to say that, because...Bootsy).