The Tyler Bunch

I interrupt my Tales of Excellent Adventure with this Live Event:

It's a Story. . . . Of a lovely lady . . .

Who was bringing up 6 very lovely girls. . .

All of them were camera shy, like their mother

The youngest one spaced out.

It's a Story, of a man named Tyler

Who was busy with 4 boys of his own.

They were redneck, and a little challenged,

And fascinated by electric garbage cans.

Then the one day when this lady met this fellow . .

And they knew that it was much more than a hunch

That this group must somehow eat together

That's the way they all became the Tyler Bunch.

The Tyler Bunch!!

That's the way they became the Tyler Bunch.

..... with Ann B. Davis as Alice. --

So. CA Coast: Day Three My Most Excellent Adventure

Where were we now..... I'm thinking Day Three.
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This was freaking me out: We were driving North and the ocean was on our left. Funky, huh? It messed with me the whole trip. I was directionally-challenged for the entire trip.

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Check out the beach front. They don't have sand dunes like we do, they have boulder dunes. A boulder sea wall, I suppose. Each house had a stairway carved into the boulders.
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This was our first pull-over off the Pacific Coast Highway, I'm not sure where we were. We walked down the coast, oops, I mean up the coast quite a distance. This guy had just caught a stingray.

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Finally.... Morro Rock! It is very similar to Haystack Rock off the Oregon coast. (not to be dropping names or anything...)

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So this is Morro Bay and we pulled in at dark, so this photo is from the next morning. We stayed at the top of this hill at Bay View Inn. It was nice for a single night, clean, a little old. I was miffed because we were told our room comes with a fireplace (and it was chilly). It was true, our room came with a fireplace, but it didn't work and they knew it didn't work and wouldn't work during our stay. {{{{grrrrrrr}}}} We had been counting on that fireplace......

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It was a long, sleepless night. Marj called from the high school about Kyle's football injury, asking if she could go to the emergency room with friends and family. It was late, but we let her go. We texted back n forth to keep up on his progress. She went home around 2 or 3 a.m. after Kyle's injuries were established and surgery was not planned at that time.

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Sunrise down at the bay.

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There are little shops along the street with the water front behind the stores. It's an adorable town and you could spend a day here, a perfect stop along your drive up the PCH.

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"Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal."

II Corinthians 4:16-18

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This lady seemed quite fun. She rowed up to us and chatted awhile. She is a teacher from upstate, with a house here for weekends and summers. Her kayak was interesting because it had foot paddles. I've never seen one with foot paddles. What a great workout. I couldn't help but imagine - someone is sitting inside a cement gym doing the same workout on a fake kayak with a movie screen showing photos something like this on it. Dude, this can't be re-created.

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We ate breakfast at The Outrigger, sitting at glass windows overlooking the bay, watching this sea lion frolic.

Breakfast chatter consisited of discussing Kyle's football accident, talking to Marj and Britta to check up on him, and talking about the plane wreck in Columbia involving former Blink-182 drummer and some of his crew. The guy at the table next to us knows the drummer and since that's our home airport, we discussed it a lot and marvelled at this "small world."

All coffeed-up, we loaded the car and hit the PCH once again.

Econ 101

(Brought to my attention by Alli Worthington. Thanks, Fussy.)

This is lengthy, but it denotes my perspective on the economy with clear, reasonable, step-by-step graphics. The first half is like Economic Collapse for Dummies, it's wonderful; the second half, I'm leery about. It starts naming names and hurling accusations, for which I have no valid way of proving or disproving. At the risk of forwarding untruths, which I hope is not the case, I am passing this video on because I think the message is not being addressed enough in the public forum. This message is being glossed over as a means of courting one's vote; however, it was addressed and volleyed beautifully in today's "This Week with George Stephanopoulos."

Santa Monica

There is a terrific "boardwalk" connecting Venice Beach with Santa Monica. It's a cement trail, not the traditional wooden boardwalks we Yankees recall from the Jersey shore - ahhhh remember Wildwood back in the day??!! -- but this cement trail is excellent for biking.

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Leaving Venice and heading north, you'll see the workout area that gave muscle beach it's fame and you'll probably see some guys working out.
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I, being profoundly unfit at this time of my life, took my car & skipped the bike. The three places I wanted to hit in Santa Monica were the Pier, 3rd Street Promenade & the trail overlooking the PCH and the beach.

Here's the Santa Monica Pier to your right. It's kind of small, but definitely worth checking out. I was told it is the best place to be for sunset and that proved very true. It had the usual kitschy stuff, but I did notice some new kitsch. A cement bust. It's the new thing. You can get a cement bust of yourself made instead of a charcoal drawing or something. I so wanted to get one of me and put it in someone's Christmas stocking. I know it would get passed around different Christmas stockings each year.

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The view to the right is the PCH, a pinch north of the pier. The awesome trail is to the left of the white fence. It meanders along the cliff, providing some magnificent views and sunsets. I meandered about 5 blocks to the Starbucks for a beverage and brought it back to enjoy my walk, only to find my parking meter expired and no change in my pockets. Sometimes those spontaneous moments of perfection just don't happen.

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Here's a portion of the meandering trail. In my photo, you can barely get a glimpse of the mountains in the background, but in real life, the view is extraordinary.

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So I took the car nearly to Beverly Hills and picked up Tom S., fresh from his Gartner conference, full of exciting new IT info, and I brought him back to the Pier for supper. I dragged him to the very end of the pier to Mariasol, cocina mexicana. Jackpot! Outdoor seating, overlooking the lights of the ferris wheel and the Santa Monica shoreline, absolute perfection. I don't remember much about the food so I'm guessing it wasn't real good or real bad. I was drunk with ambiance.
As we were leaving the pier, we watched the ferris wheel changing colors. How perfect is that?

Venice, CA: My Most Excellent Adventure

Unbelievable.

Shocking, actually.

Surfer's don't really talk

Surfer Talk.

{{{gasp}}}

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From my super sleuth vantage point, hovering over

the most bodacious surfers on the Venice Beach Pier, Day Two of my most Excellent Adventure, I could actually hear the surfer dudes talking.

Guess what. No surfer talk.

No "duuude" or "righteous". I heard "Oh, man" and I heard donkey-like emissions "hee haw, hee haw" after one particularly heinous spill and I'm quite sure I even heard a "Hrnnt," (am I reaching the "hrnnt crowd"???). I was sooo bummed. Totally reeks, man.

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Not only that, but..... this has to be said.... spoiler warning..... I think they're old dudes, mid-life-crisis dudes -- like me, a little chunky, a little wrinkly. The following YouTube moment? Now that is what I expected to hear. I thought I could learn it, kind of like German, Surfer talk.

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At this point, I'm just a little bummed. My day is just barely turning south. Afterall, I'm out on the pier watching the sunrise over a bunch of surfer dudes and drinking my java. Kind of hard to make that a bad scenario, right. Think again. I turned around and saw this:

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I am such a loser.

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I'm out there inches from the surfers with my pocket sized tiny canon snap 'em and slap 'em, acting like a photographer wannabe, uncomfortably leaning on pigeon poop pier railings, and I turn around to find this guy, with his high-powered, semi-automatic mega 5000xrated zoom lense. AND a fancy ergonomic chair to boot.

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And guess what!

He's got a freakin' lackey to dig out his sand chair and make things a little more comfortable.

I thought about asking "Hey, could you maybe come up here and wipe off this pigeon poop for me?"

Forget the mortar & pestle, forget big words on fancy cell phones, I need me one of them high-powered cameras.

Hooo - Eee, I'd be something.

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One more thing about Venice Beach, then I'll

move on.

They're known for the drum circles. I thought possibly these stones have something to do with the drum circles, but I don't know for sure.

Unfortunately, there were no live drum circles while we were there. Click here for more drum circle info. The last time we were out there, we caught the tail end of a drum circle, which left us begging for more. - - - - - - - or not.

Venice, CA: On the Road Again

So I loaded up my bag and I went to Beverly...

.... Hills, that is.

That's my altered Moleskin notebook, by the way, you really need to check that out. I bought the plain cardstock notebook with blank graph paper, then I decorated it and sealed the whole thing with mod podge. This is an excellent way to travel. I divided it into sections: Los Angeles, Santa Monica, and San Francisco. I taped in articles and info, drew in maps, journaled in it as I travelled and will now post my photos in it as well. I bought the City Notebook for Vienna - it's my first City Notebook and I think it'll make travel so much easier.

Tom had a conference in LA, then one in San Fran the following week, so he invited me to come along as his... put down your coffee.... trophy wife. You & I know I'm more of a boobie prize than a trophy wife, but if delusion helps him get through his day, who am I to stop it? Actually, this was our second honeymoon, his birthday present to me, a way to renew our vows and refocus on our evolving relationship as we head into our twilight years.

Day One: Venice Beach.

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I dropped Tom off at his conference and I went straight to Venice Beach, baby. Muscle Beach. I stopped in town at Cafe Collage for a coffee. Yum-O. Great place to catch up on local news. Beat Artist in front of me was digging the looks of her beverage as the white cream was swirling around the dark coffee colors. She watched it like a lava lamp. Finally, someone who understands the beauty of a mixed coffee beverage! She gets it! I finally found my place in this world.


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The homeless man pacing around me, seemingly trying to talk himself into something was getting increasingly angry, so I hit the road and took my coffee to the beach where the homeless people were in much better spirits.
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It's so funny. The tour buses drive up and park. Out climb all the tourists, walking in a straight line, buddy system, out onto the famous beach. They spread out a little, nod their heads, take some photos -- read: Chevy Chase's Vacation -- then amble back to the bus, maybe hitting the bathroom first. Well, they got my attention (I was sitting on the benches with the other homeless people as is my custom) because they were speaking.... German!! What luck! I've been learning German. I spoke to the first guy in English. They were from Holland. Then the second bus arrived and I approached a couple and said, IN GERMAN, "Do you understand German?" He said, "Jah." I said, "Jah??!!!" and nearly slapped him with glee. He said, "Jah" in a boring fashion, then he said something long and drawn out in German and I couldn't understand him. I hadn't really given this much thought, so I didn't know what to say. The only other German I could remember is "Would you like to eat something?" and I didn't want to ask him that, so I had to say, IN GERMAN, "goodbye." And I walked away like an idiot (as is my custom).

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So....

I mosied down the boardwalk a bit and got breakfast at the Candle Cafe. Again, Yum-O. I sat

outside on the patio with the sound of the surf and the view of the hippy vans and anti-Bush sentiments. I read, drank coffee and thought happy thoughts.

As I walked back up the beach, I briefly considered letting Tulah tell my future. But then I thought: Hey, I like to be surprised.

One thing I knew for sure: Sunset with Tom S.

So. CA Coast: Happy, Happy Feet

The PCH totally rocks.

Here... On Doug Busbee's Isle

Just sit right back & you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip, that started from this tropic port aboard this tiny ship.

The mate was a mighty sailing man, the skipper brave and sure. Seven passengers set sail that day for a three hour tour.

A three hour tour.

The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed, If not for the courage of the fearless crew, the Minnow would be lost.

The Minnow would be lost.

The ship's a-ground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle, with Doug Busbee, Tom Sliker, too, the college grad and her girl, the grandmother, the attorney and Connie Joye, Here on Doug Busbee's Isle.

Ummm, Have I said . . .

... how very much I like snooping on other peep's cameras?