TRAVELS WITH DUSTY-Day 1-San Diego to Tucson, AZ

Sunday January 10, 2010 was the first day our road trip from San Diego, California to Bethel, Maine for Dusty (my 10 year old cat) and me. After packing the last of our belongings in the 26 foot Penske Truck from our apartment yesterday we spent our last night at the Villas of Renaissance in UTC in a furnished corporate rental. The Villas is a very nice apartment complex where we lived for more than three years when we first came out to San Diego. Lauren and I soaked our aching muscles in the big Hot Tub while Eva came over to visit and say good bye. It was an appropriate San Diego send off; a Hot Tub and a bottle of Long Board Red Wine. Before leaving I gave Eva my San Diego tool box with a good assortment of Craftsman screwdrivers, a couple of pliers, hammer, tape measure and a cordless Black and Decker Portable Drill.
Lauren said good-bye to me and Dusty Sunday morning after breakfast and we were off. The big question was how Dusty would do because she usually pees, poops, and sometimes throws up within the first 3 miles of any car trip she has ever taken. Well I’m pleased to report she made it about 8 miles before she peed and pooped. So I pulled over and changed the liner in her pet carrier and rolled down the truck window. She meowed pretty constantly for about one hour and then once she realized she wasn’t going to the veterinarian (her worst nightmare) she actually stopped and started to relax.

It was just about noon when I saw the IN-N-OUT sign from Interstate 8. I was hungry and I thought who knows when the next time I’ll be able to eat an IN-N-OUT Burger will be? After eating my cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate shake in the cab of the truck I tried to see if Dusty was thirsty. Instead of drinking she just wanted to get out of her cage. So I let her check out the cab and she immediately went under the seat beneath me and stayed there for the rest of trip which was about 5 more hours. During the trip we had to stop at two US Border Patrol checkpoints where the questions were basically the same: Are you a US Citizen? Yes. What do you have in the truck? My personal belongings. Are you moving? Yes, to Maine. Thank you. Have a good day Sir. The second agent asked me one more question though that had me thinking. Are you a Border Patrol Agent? No I said and started driving away. Now why would he ask me that I asked myself and about 30 minutes later it dawned on me? Maine. Maine has an international border. Ironically I sold my car earlier this week to the wife of a Border Patrol Agent. When I told her we were moving to Maine she said “we almost moved there because of my husband’s job.”
Dusty and I drove into Tucson about 7:00 pm that night and checked into the Motel 6 because I had already looked it up and knew they were “pet-friendly”. I had some Chicken Pad Thai at the Miss Saigon Bar & Grill next door and then hit the hay. America is an interesting place.

Front Doors and Porches of North and South Park

Current construction fashion in California and many other parts of the nation favor “gated communities” and “restrictive covenants” which tell you as the homeowner just what color and tone of that color you may paint your front door. Now I understand why some rules may be desirable, after all not everyone wants a double wide mobile home with cars jacked up on the front lawn in various states of repair placed next to their architectural crafted home. However, if we all agree to live in Vanilla homes with Vanilla doors it begins to look very boring and I would submit we begin to turn to Vanilla-mush, the perfect Stepford neighbors. The Craftsman Bungalows of North and South Park in San Diego were built during a time where the quality of construction was more important than the efficiency and cost of that construction and where getting to know your neighbor was an important function of the community. These homes were built on a human scale, where although small were big enough to raise a family, were close enough where to could yell over to your neighbor to borrow that cup of sugar and had porches to sit on the rocking chair in the early evening and chat with your neighbors as they took their walk past your doorway. Consider the new designs of today where the drive in garage is the predominant attribute and once in the owner closes the door behind them as they enter the house from inside never to see their neighbor perhaps for months and years. I love the inviting feel of the doors and front porches on these Craftsman homes in North and South Park and before I move away someday I want to be sure I have some photos to remind me of their pleasing architecture. The following homes were some of my favorites located on 28th Street and Pershing Avenue between Upas Street and University Avenue.

The View from my Office Cubicle

The photo to the left is the view I see from my office cubicle. Not bad, eh? Many people who see me at work have said “You have a great job”. It has made me stop to think, yeah…not bad. The fact is I don’t have an office cubicle. I currently work on two different boats most of my week on Mission Bay in San Diego, California. Families will spend their summer vacation here. I met one man who has spent every summer vacation here since 1962. Corporations will hold business retreats here. The point is people spend good money to be here, the same place where someone pays me to do my job. I purposely put myself here last July and it worked. I’m in search for something even better but like most directions in my life I can’t “see” too far ahead, yet I’m confident that if I travel long “enough” even if the direction is not clear, exciting and rewarding things will happen. In the meantime I’m consciously taking in all the moments I can each day working on the boats, talking to the people, enjoying my cubicle view.

The Signs of San Diego

Let’s face it there are way too many signs in the world. Some are useful because they tell you which direction you should go, others are just pollution trying to sell you something like legal services or warning you of some obvious or not so obvious danger. There are some signs however that are cool works of art, beautiful indicators that you have arrived at a particular destination. San Diego has a number of neighborhood signs that fit this description, mostly in the older neighborhoods closest to the downtown area. Signs such as NORTH PARK, HILLCREST, UNIVERSITY HEIGHTS, LITTLE ITALY, NORMAL HEIGHTS and of course THE GASLAMP DISTRICT. When you see one of these signs in person you have no doubt where you are and have a chance to admire a beautiful piece of art. Each of these signs have their own character and design and to appreciate them in full you should see them during the day and during the night when the neon gas is brightly lit within the tubing spelling out the neighborhood in their appropriate colors. It’s hard to explain the feeling you get by being near one of these signs but if you can imagine how it would look and feel without the sign; starker, empty, less warm then I think you can appreciate that the sign is there, for you. Thanks to the artists, sign makers, and visionaries who knew to do better than much of what we see today for signs.

A Day in San Juan Capistrano

If reality TV show producers were filming a series called The Original Housewives of Orange County they would have to consider making it in San Juan Capistrano because Mission San Juan Capistrano is considered the Birthplace of Orange County and San Juan Capistrano has the distinction of being home to the oldest building in California still in use, a chapel built in 1782. But the Padres being who they are have no wives and so the producers would have to look for the next location.
Frank and Joan are my in-laws and are here for the month of March. The plan was to take the train to San Juan Capistrano and sight see last Thursday. This is a perfect day trip from San Diego. We had a late start catching the 12:34 pm Amtrak Surfliner train from Solano Beach and took the Business Class car north. My in-laws haven’t been on a train for quite some time so this was a treat for them and on most of this route you see the Pacific Ocean just yards away. In business class you get a package of snacks including cheese and crackers as well as a “free” small glass size bottle of wine.
The trip only took 45 minutes by train and as you begin to walk around you realize that this is a small town in Orange County. Our main objective was to see Mission San Juan Capistrano and it was an easy two block walk from the train station. The Mission is probably best known to me and many others for the annual "Return of the Swallows" which is traditionally observed every March 19th. It’s funny because the following day as I was working on the dock in Mission Bay and I noticed a few groupings of perhaps a hundred swallows flying and swooping in formation northward. I felt the connection to nature because here it was March 13th and the swallows are doing their thing just like they’re supposed to. I’d venture to say most people in the area didn’t notice them at all, but I did and I knew where they were going. There were two different groups at about one hour apart and I noticed they both made the exact up and down move in the exact up and down space over the bay. It was as if they were following a very detailed and specific flight path that only they could see and that is probably true. The Mission was founded on November 1, 1776 and if you love history and want to get a true sense of early California this is a must see. It’s a peaceful location where you get a real sense of what it was like to be there during its early days.
Near the end of our Mission tour, Lauren and Joan decided to head out early and walk to the newer Basilica just down the street. As I was taking a few more pictures about 25 yards away they said something about staying with Frank and I thought I heard him say he would be right outside the gate waiting for me. Because they often all talk at the same time I heard something like; wha, wha, wait, wah, Frank, gate, wha, wha, church, okay? I said okay. After taking a few more photos I returned my audio tour guide gizmo and proceeded to the exit. I didn’t see Frank standing there like I assumed but it was sunny so I looked across the street to where the shops had covered sidewalks. Still no Frankie. Hmmm…did he walk around the corner a bit which happened to be curved, so slightly blind? Walking, walking, still no Frankie. Frank has had knee replacements and doesn’t move as fast or far as my mother in law, so I’m judging in my mind that he shouldn’t be this far down the street. At this point I’m at the Basilica so I run in to check. Awesome alter, peaceful music, and a few souls engaged in prayer. Nobody I knew though, so I took a photo and went out the back door to loop back towards the center of town. Across the street I spotted Lauren and Joan window shopping. Walking up behind them I contemplated….do I tell them I’ve lost Frank or walk behind the buildings and continue my search? Take it like man Pete.
Me: Boo!
Lauren: Where’s Frank?
Me: I lost him.
Lauren: You what?
Joan: Oh, he’ll be fine.
After the appropriate butt-chewing I walked a little faster down the sidewalk. It wasn’t crowded so he should be easy to spot. My mind said he may have popped in to one of the local drinking establishments for a beer, so I’m scanning for this type of business as I walk. About four minutes later Lauren called to say “she” had found her father back inside the walls of the Mission dutifully sitting and waiting for me to pick him up. Sorry Frankie, I’m just adding to the chapters of stories that can be told mostly by Lauren who never forgets any of them.
Before catching the train back we had a bite to eat at Sarducci’s restaurant which is right next to the train station and apparently was the train station at one time. The food, the atmosphere, the service, and the price were all good. The bathroom was located in a converted boxcar and I thought the architecture was interesting however the urinals in the men’s room were too close to each other and to the wall of the toilet.
After visiting the Rios Historic District across the street and with everyone accounted for we caught the train ride back in time to catch the sunset in Del Mar.