Chronicles of Cali
So.
Here is a chronicle of my last few days. For a brief summary, see the below line:
WICKED KICK-ASS DUDE!
For the more complete summary, continue reading.
Flying was long and ridiculous. Both planes were delayed. However, this was not so bad, because the first delay resulted in a happy turn of events. When I checked in at Bradley Airport, I was notified that I was being moved to a later flight that was leaving approximately 2 hours later than my original flight. This is not the happy turn of events. The happy turn came when I sat down at the terminal, unhappy about the long wait ahead of me and looked up. Imagine my surprise when I found myself looking, bewildered, into the also-bewildered face of Vincent Bennett of "The Acacia Strain" fame. We greeted each other, griped about delayed flights, and ensued our unexpected three-hour hangout. Topics of discussion included his burgeoning fame, OBAB's recent demise, and video games of all shapes, sizes, and timelines.
We were on the same flight to Chicago. This flight was short, and I had a row all to myself. Sweet deal!
Vincent and I said a pleasant good-bye at O'Hara, and I proceeded to get a tasty but too-crunchy roast beef sandwich from the Jazz foodcourt. (the name of the individual sandwich shop escapes me. Highlights include a hispanic workforce, extremely high prices, and a messy condiment table.)
I went to gate C20 and sat down, not looking forward to the next three hours. I listened to music. I tried to nap. The nap failed. I tried to catch the eye of a group of people my age, hoping to strike up a conversation. I got weird looks, and a hushed reaction on their part involving pointing, tugging at, and pinching their lips. I can only assume this was meant to mock or maybe just attempt to experience my wondrous lip piercings. Left thus alone, I basically sat around and watched the rain begin to fall.
I got up, walked around and sat back down. In my new spot, a girl sat across from me. We were both listening to music. I think she was flirting with me, by trying incredibly hard not to acknowledge my presence, but doing all sorts of things that seemed to be intended to draw attention to herself and/or make herself seem to be incredibly interesting. We didn't say a word to each other, and it is interactions like this that are the silliest thing about young people in America (perhaps the rest of the world too.)
I boarded the plane. My seat was next to a spanish man who I didn't speak to. He seemed to be about 30, and looked sort of haggard, like he'd been traveling for a while. I know he was spanish because he fumbled with words when speaking to the flight attendant with the drinks, and was reading magazines in spanish. I waited for quite some time, and the plane had not moved an inch. I fell asleep; I woke up; we had still not pushed back from the gate. Shortly after I awoke, the captain came across letting us know that there had been both a cargo issue and a passenger-falling-ill-and-needing-to-be-deplaned-issue. I shook my head and fidgeted.
The rest of the flight was uneventful. They showed the same inflight movie that they had showed on the way from Bradley to O'Hara, and I shook my head again. United kinda sucks, huh? I began reading a trashy sci-fi novel that is truly horrendous. I am still pushing through it, because I am mildly interested in how similar the ending will be to that of A New Hope.
The book is pretty much like star wars with the names changed around. Futuristic, Jedis replaces with Barudii, lightsabers replaced by Barudii Blades, the imagery of which consists of the blades being "ignited" and being able to cut through anything except another ignited Barudii blade. The Barudii have a sort of psychokinesis which allows them to read minds, vault themselves great distances, and basically do anything that a Jedi could pull off through manipulation of the Force.
That wouldn't be so bad, BUT - the editing is awful. Words are misspelled left and right. Incorrect grammar is used all over the place. Instead of a character "faring" well against his adversary, he is "fairing" well. In another instance, the most shocking to date, the author refers to a character deflecting shots so that another character, "Kale" (or something) will not be hit. In the VERY NEXT SENTENCE, Orin was unhurt, and was able to get away thanks to his companions' defensive maneuvers. So, not only did he put the WRONG CHARACTER in the sentence - but the character, Orin? HE'S ALREADY DEAD!!! GAH!
This is incredibly frustrating.
Anyway.
I arrived in San Fransisco about 6 hours later than I should have. My Dad met me outside and we drove to Moss Beach, which is a part of Half Moon Bay, which is in between Santa Cruz and San Fransisco. This answers those questions of "Dave, where you're going - is it Norcal or Socal?" The answer is now decidedly Norcal. Sorry for my ignorance before.
Everyone except my Grandfather was asleep the night I arrived, so we three generations of Marcuses caught up, laughed (quietly so as not to wake anyone) and basically felt good about everything.
I was shown to my room, which is actually my uncle Gabriel's room. Gabriel is nine years old. His ceiling is covered in a menagerie of stuffed animals which are stapled in place. This means that if I want to rest peacefully, I must not look up or I will be plagued by nightmares of an eerie, shadow-casting Spongebob Squarepants. Gabe is 9 because my Grandfather remarried a younger woman after he and my Grandma split. Cherie had a baby by donor, and so I have a 9 year old uncle. Sort of.
Dad and I went out in search of food, and walked down the hill to a little mexi joint called El Gran Amigo. The food was amazing. Their quesadillas con carne asada y queso (steak and cheese, boys and girls) are to die for. I plan to have many more before I leave. Plus, they had tuba-oompa music playing, and that was awesome.
The next day, I met my youngest brother, Nathan. He is the cutest damn thing I have ever seen. He was shy for about 2 minutes and then warmed right up to me, and we have been googie-buddies out on the West Coast. He is 13 months old, and is all the things that doting relatives say about babies. I have been helping him walk down stairs, and he's getting pretty good at it.
Doting aside, we went to Hangar 3-Zero to have breakfast. The food was amazing, and the service was stellar. The guy was friendly, a comedian, the owner of the place, and an old friend. The name, Hangar 3-Zero, is because it's on a small airfield.
The rest of that day was spent playing with Nathan, eating more quesadillas, chilling at the park that I once chilled at when I was a wee kiddie visiting long ago. We also bought a wireless router which will be returned at the end of my stay, and spent a while setting that up (due to a most silly mistake on my part.) Showed Dad Gears of War and Tony Hawk on the new Xbox.
I read more of my shitty book. I think I went to bed.
TODAY is the day that we have arrived at. I woke up super early to the sounds of Nathan gaggling next-door. We woke up, and determined that we were headed out to Santa Cruz. For those of you that do not know, I was born in Santa Cruz, and have spent plenty (though never enough) time there since I was a lad. So, when our plans for the day were announced, I was quite excited.
Further to my excitement, we went to meet my uncle Ben (a real, full-grown man) at a breakfast spot called Paula's. While there, Ben read us the outline for Malizoo, his movie that he is pitching to Warner Bros. at the end of January. How cool would it be if my uncle was the writer for what would surely be a hit kids' movie? The material is flat-out hilarious. I can totally imagine it joining the ranks of the classics, but lets let Ben meet the execs first. The basic premise is brush fires in Malizoo (an animal alternate of Malibu). Celebrities are replaced by animals, and the whole thing is awesome. If anyone is interested in the outline let me know and I'll send it your way.
I met Robert "Wingnut" Weaver at Paula's, too. Apparently this guy is somewhat famous. In a couple of surf movies, well-known by the surfing community, something like that. He was cool, but he was very stern with his son at one point, which I guess is okay.
Ben gave us some copies of the magazine he had plans to publish, "WET" - an all-women's surfing magazine. The 'zine, by the way is beautiful. However, surfing mags are going the way of the dinosaur it seems, and surfshops aren't interested in taking on an underground project (albeit from the editor of SURF magazine) when they have a ton of mags on the shelves they can't sell anyway.
Anyway.
He also gave us some sweet clothes that some company or another had sent him (I have a sweet new shirt that says "Hang Loose Hawai'i" with a bunch of hang loose hands on it. I have an excuse, Adam!) Ben then pointed us in the direction of the original Santa Cruz skateshop, one of the first to open up. Like ever. I have been hankering to pick up a new deck for a long, long time, and I figured that this place was appropriate - historically, nostalgically, and radically (also, we're in Cali. har har.) SC skateshop was amazing, and so is my new ride. Enjoi deck/wheels, Krux trucks, and bearings that will soon be replaced. The just-as-awesome purchase I made alongside my new board is a new hoodie (and we all know how much I love those) Picture this -
Perfect fit
embroidered (or something) Santa Cruz Skateboards logo on the back (and front)
Zip-up
Thermal lining.
Basically hoodie heaven, and a birthright for an SC native. Still, I had to pay for it.
We made a beeline for a skatepark, where I realized that skating was still as hard as it was when I was younger, and I haven't gotten any better as I've gotten older, not skating. I tooled around on some ramps, got my kickflip back, and felt like an outcast amongst kids who've kept up with the lifestyle. I enjoyed it more when we stopped at Goat Rock on the coast to watch the sunset and I had a sweet little session on some parking bumpers.
That's getting a little ahead of myself though. My next stop was the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. This place is the stuff of legends, literally, and is one of my favorite hangout spots in the world. Several enormous arcades, a huge multilevel, thousands-of-square-feet lazer tag facility, amusement park rides, awesome food, and of course this is all right on the beach. I spent so much time here as a kid it's ridiculous, and though today was shorter I accomplished the most important things. Played a game of lazer tag with pops. I easily scored highest (the games at Sector 7 are free-for-all. You gain points by shooting others, lose points by being shot.) Ate some sweet food. Was checked out by babes (not so babe-like, really... they called dibs on me from the merry-go-round. They were probably fourteen. Geckhh. Played through the old X-Men arcade game. Yeah. The six-player one with Wolverine, Cyclops, Nightcrawler, Storm, Colussus, and lets not forget - Dazzler. Hell yeah. Great game.
We cruised around downtown Santa Cruz for a while after that, and I took a quick nap. We went by some old houses, I reconnected with my p-o-b (place of birth for all you acronym-impaired people out there) and we began to head back to Half Moon Bay. Stopped at Goat Rock for the sunset. Took amazing pictures (all day). Skated parking bumpers. Climbed a tree with Googie (Nathan). Came home, ate awesome soup, watched National Treasure. Talked to Kelsey about her shitty friends. Fought my dad in a match of funk-chi, our made up martial art. Began typing what has become an extremely involved overview of the past few days. Not only am I going to have to send this to you (my bandmates) now, but I'll have to post it up online and send it to my mom and brother.
More later, gents. Hope everything's going fine. Jay or somebody, get at me about when the 360 crew is next getting together for some Gears. I will be able to join you if I'm not out doing amazing california stuff.
Love to all who read - call or write!
-D