My Tuesdays are generally nothing to write home about, and yesterday was no exception. Of course, that has never stopped me from blogging about it anyway. So here goes.
Grocery shopping in the morning as usual. And my Tuesday afternoon routine is a walk to Baloy Beach and a visit to the Kokomo floating bar. I baked a batch of brownies for the girls and they got devoured this time, so I guess I satisfied the sweet teeth of the brown knees.
On Facebook this morning one of the Baloy resort owners was bitchin’ about customers sneaking in McDonald’s food despite the posted signage saying outside food is not allowed. The advice from commenters was to enforce your rules or shut up–you can’t blame McDonald’s.
One of the views from the floater resonated more than usual.
So, the music was fine when I first boarded the floater, but then the volume increased to a level that drowned out any possibility of enjoying the songs. I was a bit surprised because the owner was there and didn’t seem to notice. I asked my waitress if it could be toned down some, and she immediately had the bartender reduce the volume to a tolerable level. With that problem fixed, I was able to rock along with a decent playlist. One of the songs played was “Hotel California,” an old favorite of mine. The next song was “Californication,” and I started thinking, what’s next, “California Dreamin'”?
As a person born and raised in California, the music triggered a flood of memories. It wasn’t a bad place to live as a child. I grew up in Orange County, and in my early years, I was surrounded by orange groves. But they succumbed to a housing boom as subdivisions replaced trees. One of my early childhood memories was having to move because our house was being torn down to build the Garden Grove freeway. I used to ride my bike the eight miles to Huntington Beach and swim in the ocean all day. In those days, my bike ride was mostly through oil fields. They were replaced with houses, too. By 1978, I was twenty-three and married with two kids. The state wanted to bus them to Long Beach to help integrate the schools there. That’s when I knew it was time to leave California behind for good, and the next stop on my life’s journey was Prescott, Arizona.
Anyway, back here in the present (or yesterday, as it were), Swan and I departed the floater and had a pork chop dinner at DaKudos. We then triked home for some “Shameless” and a good night’s sleep.
Here’s some other stuff I found as I explored the internets:
One more for the road:
Alright, it’s time to shower up and get on with my Wednesday. Hope you check in to see what happened tomorrow.
McDonald’s is really catching on, I see!
But they succumbed to a housing boom as subdivisions replaced trees.
How does the joke go?
“They tear the trees down and name the streets after them.”
Treebeard has retired and moved to the suburbs.
Neighborhood Entmoots must be hell for traffic.
It doesn’t get much lower than that.
When I was a kid, my dad took me for a one-day scuba lesson. It was one of the most awesome experiences of my life. Up to that point, if I ever tried to swim down more than six feet deep, my ears would be in agony. But when you’re wearing scuba gear, there must be some sort of pressure-related thing that happens because, with the gear on, I could swim down to the bottom of the deep end of the pool: fifteen feet. I remember just sitting there with my instructor, legs crossed, watching the bubbles ascend to the surface. One day, I’ll try scuba diving again. (Now that I’m writing this, I think I’ve told this story on your blog before. Ah, senility.)
…[a]nd then I remembered I still had to go uphill until I reached the arrow on the left.
Hills will do that to you. They fool you into thinking you’re done… then you top one rise and see there’s a whole lotta hill left to do.
I’ve only eaten at the new Mickey D’s once so far. I’ve been tempted a couple of times, though, and can hear the Big Mac calling my name when I walk past.
Well, I didn’t remember your scuba experience. Another reason to visit–we have at least three certified dive shops right here in Barretto.
Yeah, hills are like life that way.
Hamas lost two of its leaders in one day!
Source. The article:
Yes, I should have sourced/linked back to the Babylonbee article—sloppy work from me. I’ll try and do better.