Funny, when I picked Sam up, there were at least 25 moms before me who'd written "vacation" as their excuse, so I followed suit, grabbed my boy and scurried to the car that I'd parked far from the building, so they couldn't see my license plate (heh heh). My fingers, pushing the unlock button on my keychain, burned red hot.
It was a blustery day. Extreme winds over Indy caused our pilot to announce, moments before we landed in Salt Lake City, "Uh, folks, it seems we lost our flight controls back in that turbulence over Indy, so I wanted to tell you that we're expecting a perfectly safe landing here in Salt Lake, but we will be greeted by the local fire and ambulance crews, heh heh (a completely different tone of "heh heh"), so don't be...alarmed.
If you've ever flown into Denver or Salt Lake, you've noticed some turbulence there, too. Sam was seated by the window, enjoying the ride. Matt and I looked at each other, each bearing a hint of fear and sadness. Matt said, "Quickly, let's put Sam in the middle." The three of us holding hands, we sat, as the wings tilted port…starboard…port…starboard, until we touched ground. I let out my secret, silent cry deep inside, where no one hears anything. Sam announced that he was hungry for pizza.
God, we owe you big time for that one.
Our flight into Orange County was perfect, the weather: perfect. Once I look past the tattoos, the attitudes, the size-too-large Dickies shorts that grown men wear, I'm beginning to love California. ;)
The first day at Newport Beach, we learned that Perry's Pizza, a landmark, and Matt's childhood favorite place, is closing. We stopped there every time we were in town. I did my deep, silent cry for Matt.
So long, Perry's Pizza. :(
Day three we drove to Santa Barbara, and on to Solvang and Los Olivos (possibly my favorite places in the country). We stopped at our favorite winery, Alma Rosa first. Next to their small wooden sign (marketers never found this place!) you take a dirt road past several homes where the families live who pick the grapes, and there is Alma Rosa. Unassuming, with some of the best pinot noir I've ever tasted. I said, "Matt, I love this place because it's ours. This was the first place we found on our honeymoon. Not one other person we know knows about this place, and I'm fine with that."
….And we found out that it's closing. Sold to some new guy who's tearing down the charming tin-roofed building and carving a state-of-the-art facility--lest we forget gift shop--into the side of the mountain. We were there on Sunday, April 6th. Their last day was April 9th. (Especially sad is that this is one of the oldest Santa Ynez wineries, and the first "tasting" scene from the movie Sideways.)
So I was starting to hate California. No one preserves anything in California! I know this because I saw the movie Clueless, and because my friend and I once took a tour of old vaudeville theaters in Los Angeles…and there WERE no theaters, only electronics/knick-knack/cheap clothing stores! California, where is your soul?
Onward, we spent the next day at Wally World! Six Flags Magic Mountain! The best amusement park in the country, where we'd truly be on "Family Vacation," and Sam could ride Matt's favorite two coasters in the world: Colossus and Revolution!
Yep, those two rides were closed. I started freaking out. We hit the bumper cars, where Sam would seek his revenge.
We had an otherwise lovely time in the 93 degree weather, rode other coasters, drank other wine. I can adapt, I can accept change.
The rest of the week was perfect, and on our last night, sipping wine by the outdoor fireplace, eating tacos we'd made from food we bought at the local Mexican groceries, Matt said, "I'm dreading going back."
And then the power went out at the house...
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