Laguna Beach

Today we were supposed to head down to The Getty and see what that was all about. A museum, or gallery, or – some building of great culture – however this was not to be. The Getty is claimed to be an all day event. We no longer had all day, on account of waking late, and getting ready to leave even later. But that was alright. It was near Santa Monica, and that's where we'd be off to tomorrow -

Today we set our giant pirate X on the city of Laguna Beach. Off we drove. I'm told there's a tv show about this place. Now that I think about it, I think it was a spin off from The Hills. But I can't be sure. I have not ever watched either of them. Stepping out of our car onto the streets of Laguna beach, I figured I might look up an episode or two when I get the chance and see what it's all about.

I will tell you this much - aw no rich people, and no fancy anythings. What I did see was mile after mile of art gallery. If I was an artist and I wanted to see my terrible pieces I would go where the money is, and the intellect is not. This seemed to make sense – some of the work wasn't bad, but one gallery just made me feel like I really do need to create my “How to Make Art.” spoof site. The entire gallery was just pictures of women terribly out of focus with high contrast. Clearly that is art worth spending hundreds of dollars on.

We started our experience at an outdoor restaurant where older, cosmetically enhanced, women gossiped three tables over from unwashed, deadlocked teenagers lost to their own deep thoughts and heavy concentration. The ruben sandwich? Put sauerkraut on anything and I'll be happy. Serve it with some bottomless, and well supplied root beer and it's golden.

After eating we left the main roads and headed, predictably enough, to the beach. This was not the beach the locals go to – of that I'm pretty sure. Everyone seemed to be travelling through, like we were. The beach itself was marked as a “no fun” zone. “Absolutely no shell collecting,” was signed everywhere. There was no body boarding, or surfing either. Those who attempted to break this rule were met with red swimsuit wearing baywatchers running – always running – to stop them an let them know what's wrong wth their current behaviour. Once modifications were made, the life guards ran back to their towers. Return jogs would be made by those who refused to learn.

Katherine found her fun by flipping over rocks with young children on a grand adventure to find tiny little crabs scuttling around in tidal pools. This, of course, would have been cracked down on – as there is no disturbing the rocks or bothering the local critters. This area was, as luck would have it, around the cliff edge, free from the red suited guardians of despair.

Despite only allowing sunbathing and reading, the beach was a beautiful sight. Still – it was one that couldn't entertain forever. After walking Laguna Beach we headed off for the mall at Laguna Hills hoping to find fancy stores. Once more we failed. The locals of Laguna Beach do not hang at the Main Beach, nor shop at the local mall. Stores were disappearing, the food court was nearly empty. The only thing of note was the Disney Store stocked with ever helpful staff giving us a complete breakdown of the Beauty and the Beast script, explaining the reason the teacup, Chip, had a chip in it (reason: he was once a little boy before being cursed, and this wee little boy had a chipped tooth.) What type of jerk curses a little child into a cup because they're mad at a prince – or whatever that monster was.

From the mall we headed back into the city, and made our way to Knott's Farm. Now don't be fooled into thinking this is where your groceries are grown, oh no – this place claims to be America's first theme park. But that's not why we were there. Roller coasters are a dime a dozen. What is far more rare is a good tube steak. The perfect hot dog. That's something that I've been on the lookout for – shall we say, all my life? As I've travelled the world I've eaten one hot dog after the next. Iceland had a good one, but few other countries measured up to what I had thought of as the best hot dog in the world: Toronto street meat. Here was the last challenger – Pink's Hot dogs.

Pink's is said to be the best dog in America, which isn't that large a hill to clamor up, but still. I've been told that if you're at the Hollywood location it takes over an hour in line to get in the door. Here, far away from the masses, we were able to grab a Pink's dog without any lines.

My choice? The twelve inch monster dog – sour cream, cheese, chili. The dog itself had bits of jalapeños stuffed right into the casing. The hot dog? Well, I was terrified to bite into it, for if anything was going to topple my hometown treat, it would be this one. With the first bite my fears were confirmed. This was the greatest dog of all time. The greatest hot dog in the, yes – I'll say it – world, nay universe. My lord – how could anything sold from the streets compete with something that has jalapeños built right into the casing? It wasn't a fair fight – and to be truthful, it was three and a half times the price of what I'd get back home – but good tasting is good tasting. The crown has been passed.

Slightly delighted by the nom, an slightly upset that I'll have to modify my term claiming Toronto has the best “street dog” rather than hot dog, I headed back home.

I crashed, we finished watching Penn and Teller's Bullshit, and were almost out when the floodgates (front door) opened, ushering in a flock of people. No longer was the night for kicking back to an early sleep. This night was one spent staying up taking for hours, about – whatever you'll have. Four hours in, I was met with a very American experience.

One of the guys collected guns, and was talking about how he had a pump action, 8 in the something 1 in the something, flash light fixed, laser sighted shot gun. I don't know much about guns – I don't know anything about guns – but I do know abount nonsense. And a laser sighted shotgun? Really? At some point I decide to say something that could have turned terribly bad, were we not dealing with professionals. “It's easy to make up any sort of gun if you don't have to prove it.”

And that's when the gun collection came out. A smaller automatic piece, and then the laser sighted shot gun which was straight out of Terminator. All unloaded of course, I was shocked by how light they were. And the feel? They ha the same texture and colour of a video game controller. It was easy to understand how some people can view them as toys. I've held toy guns that felt more, “real,” than these did.

I don't want to say they were 'cool' because that would be, I don't know, wrong? Being a Canadian the word gun rings as an evil to me. In the great white north we demonize guns more than we do drugs. Ohh Bobby was caught with an eight ball of coke? That crazy kid, always pushing. That we can shrug about. Bobby being caught with a shotgun? There is no hope for him! How could he have such a thing?!

To an American this is ridiculous. To me, well it should be ridiculous too, but it's hard to push aside all those years of forced thought.

As a final note? Guns- terrifying and creepy... and kind of cool.

BUT – you should probably always leave them locked up, and not on the kitchen table. Even if they are unloaded, and thus less harmful than a kitchen knife. You see, that Canadian thinking: guns are bad, wrong, wrong, bad, wrong, bad, bad, wrong, bad. I do believe that second amendment allows you to store them wherever you want, even in the umbrella holder near your front door – though not a good idea, as these are for home defense only. You'd need faster access.

And with those confusing thoughts, I slipped off to bed.

Chicken N Waffles and Aquatic Life

Chicken N' Waffles. Chicken and waffles. Together. No some people may scoff at this combination, but not Roscoe. No sir. Roscoe (Herb) worked to perfect the coming together of both these food items, and in so doing created a haven for a certain section of the California populars.

That section is the section of people whom also enjoy both chicken and waffles together, at the same time. Count me in.

Breakfast is a thing of beauty when it includes two plate-sized waffles with enough syrup to drown in and heaping scoops of butter. Now in many cases, the best waffles you've ever taste in your life would be enough – but no, on plate number two you get a quarter chicken smothered (literally, you can't see the plate, or the meat at this point) in thick wonderful gravy. The chicken, of course, is fried.

Yes, eating at Roscoe's House of Chicken n Waffles is a wonderful treat – and a LA cultural experience to be sure, but it's not all syrup and gravy there. First, you may stand out a little. I'm not going to say that Kath and I were the only white folks in there – because that wouldn't be true. Nope, one more came in an hour later, as we were preparing to leave. Now this wouldn't be so much of a thing, if not for the fact that being white is detrimental to your pocket book in this restaurant, in my experience.

Everyone around us was being offered free refills of drinks which “free re-fills don't really come with.” Everyone but us. Now I'm not saying it was because we were the only white people, but I paid attention – the last twenty minute, I'll get to that in a second, all we had to do was look around. We were the only white folks, we were the only folks not getting refills. Maybe they just missed us? Could be. I'll keep an open mind; mind you, I've heard some people say that they will not go there because of the colour of their skin – which is sad, because they really are missing out on some fantastic soul food.

So the last twenty minutes – we were one eating, and wanted to leave. There is no way to make this happen. No, you will leave when the staff are good and ready for you to leave, and who knows when this could be. Let me see if I can clean this up a bit... we were told they worked on, “island time.” Yes that sweet carefree time where things happen when they will. No one else looked like they were in a hurry to go – although this could have been because of all their free lemonaid, while we just peered at empty glasses of ice.

At one point we looked over, and there was our waitress chowing down on her own piece of gravy smothered chicken. For the next fifteen minutes she devoured it, catching my eye now and then. When she was done, good, and ready, she slowly ambled over to deliver us our check and our escape. During this time of nothing, we also noticed Toronto Blue Jays caps being worn. Though, I don't know how much the gentlemen actually care about my home town ball-team. Curious, that. When paying a good tip was still left – the food, it was just too delicious. Never has the combination of waffle, butter, and syrup been so good. And the chicken? Well – if you're in the area you must experience it.

Pulling ourselves, or rather being allowed escape from, the House of Chicken N Waffles we headed a street over to the Longbeach Aquarium.

There is nothing better than free tickets to something, and that's what one of Jen's friends hooked us up with. Free aquarium tickets. Sure we still had to pay the eight dollars for parking, but we saved 24.95 each getting in. A small price to pay.

The first thing we did was head to the gift shop and buy a little stuffed turtle to add to Jen's ever growing collection of the shelled beasts. Then we headed in to see what we could see. Oh the fish that there were – red fish, blue fish, one fish, two fish... and sea lions too.

We didn't learn a thing. For four hours we wandered the aquarium just looking at things and being amazed by the foreign worlds which normally exist under water, made accessible through sheets of glass.

No this wasn't like in New Zealand where you get to walk the stairs down below the surface and view the ocean proper, but there you could never be guaranteed such sightings.

There were giant sea bass, and Nemos, as well as Dorys. And there were jellies. Some of them looked like they should have been harassing Farpoint Station. Oh the jelly fish that there were. The white moon jellies, set against the field of black, made brilliant through their lighting were unbelievable. Some of the pictures are frameable as abstract art.

Outside there were sea lions doing their things, and otters which seamed to shoot through the tank right next to the window, waving to us as they crossed. Katherine is now determined to own one of these tool using non-primates.

I don't want to talk about the puffins I saw. It made me too emotional.

The aquarium continues with tropical fish of all colours, as well as local favourites. Then there is the touch pool. Reach in and grab a shark. What could go wrong? With skin like sand paper, they were too small to do much harm – I still feel that they were looking at all the wee fingers sizing up a good meal when they saw it.

Rays were there to be pet as well, but I'd done enough touching of these crocodile hunting monsters when I was in the grand cayman, using Kath as a shield for protection.

Larger sharks were in a nearby tank, and were amazing to watch. There's something impressive about those few things which are inherently better than us. We love to watch lions, tigers, and other big cats. Wolves are impressive. Sharks have their own much-celebrated week. If we know they can kill us, then we love them by default – we just want at least an inch of protective glass separating.

The hammer head sharks were quite the sight – though small, their unique shape was peachy keen.

We watched sea horses propel themselves along with their speedy back fins, clinging for stability with tails. Then the sea dragons – a favourite of mine – took centre stage. Looking at all these things, so different and unique, I understand how evolution can be brought into question – how do these things manage to diverge and form? It's an incredible separation, yet here we are surrounded by so... much.

There was a movie about otters, and then a $4.00 4-D movie about cartoon sea turltles. After saving so much getting in, how could I resist this film? The answer? I could not. It was a joyful adventure of sea turtles travelling the world in nonsensical ways. At one point he questions our existence as men, “I was confused. On one hand, then men cutting down the tree saved my life – on the other, why would they want to destroy a beautiful forest?” right before questioning existence as a new baby being born looks around and asks, “what do I do now?” to be answered only with the, “just put one flipper in front of the other and everything else will fall into place.” These are big questions for such a small movie – but with the 4D splash of water from above, and wacky paper 3D glasses, I was sold.

Who knew the aquarium would be so much fun?

Scott Pilgrim vs. Downtown Disney

Monday August 23rd, 2010. You have no idea how exciting it is to be writing this entry on the morning of the 24th. It means I have finally caught up with all my blogging and am back on track. No longer will I be haunted by past days begging for thousands of words – no, for the next little while all is right in the world once more.

Waking up in San Diego we had a dislike of the city from the night before – but that didn't mean we were not willing to give it a fair shake. Our first destination was the beach – Mission Beach to walk along the board walk, which is more of a cement walkway with bikers that want to run you down, not unlike on the sidewalks of Europe. There's a lot of people begging for money here – but well to do folks, begging not for food, but so they can put gas in their cars. Somehow I'm not as sympathetic.

There's also a roller coaster. Did not look safe. I avoided it.

It was hot, we weren't willing to get wet, the beach could only offer so much. Back in the car. I thought about the gaslamp district as I wanted to check that out – but then parking, and city traffic – we were already on the outskirts. It was ten in the morning, and we had a two hour drive ahead of us to meet up with a friend in Anaheim at four. How could we kill four hours? Lets get rid of thirty minutes for traffic we weren't expecting, and another thirty for eating. Three hours to kill.

Eating at IHOP (a welcome change of pace from the fast food that has become standard as of late) was a good start. Delicious treats for all. Then we hit up a mall – a mall with an AMC cinema in it.

Scott Pilgrim was playing, and since it was before noon tickets were only six bucks – if that's not good reason to be unemployed, I don't know what is. Welfare? That's a good reason too I guess.

So there we were, sitting down to watch Scott Pilgrim, when a guy came in behind us munch-munch-munching loudly on his popcorn. My, still sick, brain had a hard time with this and I tried to ignore, but it was like in a cartoon where each bite was represented by a jackhammer slamming the pavement. Luckily he was a fast eater and by the time the movie started, after twenty minutes of previews, he was done.

Opening with the 16-bit Universal Studios logo and sound was perfect. The credits of the movie showed this was not created for Scott Pilgrim, but rather it was made in 1997. What movie was it first used it? My ten seconds of Google reveal nothing.

The film was a streamlined version of the comics – with all the characters being much better than in the books. They made more sense, they seemed how they should be. All was right in the world. Now, sure, they didn't blow up Honest Eds, and Knive's dad was left out, but I was cool with that.

The only thing that bothers me about the movie is that I feel its existence led to book 6 being chopped up from what it was originally supposed to be to fit the plot of the film. I have a hard time accepting Kim being totally cut out of book six, and all her material ret conned. This wasn't a problem in the film, as she was – more or less – left out for the whole thing. She played a good role, and was what she needed to be.

Big cheers for the movie. Sure it cost 100-million (who thought that would be a good idea? Honestly – that's a damn lot of money to spend on an indy comic.) and sure it only made 10-million opening week, so kind of a flop, but I loved it, and I'm glad it was made. I would say this will set a bad precedent for other movies like this ever having a chance to be born, but really – there are no others like this, and this is already made. Take that world, it's out. Victory is ours.

Now go back to canceling all the great tv shows before their time.

The critics are mixed – some digging it for what it is, others not quite getting the importance and impact of the video game references (but times, they are a changing, and these peoples parents probably didn't understand “that crazy rock an' roll with the wee Elvaaaas boy wiggling his no no bits” so move on.) nor appreciate that the music was supposed to be terrible – they're not a good band. That's the joke. But many seemed happy with it.

I didn't care either way, for me this was the comic brought to life and made better. And it was a window of home.

I have not seen home in a long time, but watching this movie, I saw the C.N. Tower on the Toronto Skyline, and Casa loma where I went with a friend to a wedding not all that long before leaving. There was bloor street, Lee's palace, the good ol' hated TTC (prices adjusted from the comic for the rate increase in Toronto since I've been gone.) And Honest Ed's. More important than that, the greatest Pizza in the world – Pizza Pizza (everyone disagrees, but I love it.) Scott and friends were eating it at the place I used to pick it up after work when i was walking Bloor. Now this was a mistake on their part, as that store is the worst Pizza Pizza in the city, giving you burnt crust, and bad service – but it was home, and it was my place.

Watching the movie took me closer to there than I was now. Closer than I'd been in a long time. Even looking at Canada across Niagara Falls didn't show me My Canada. But this did.

And it hit me – I think I'm just about ready to go back.

I didn't travel to escape. I wasn't running from anything. It's not that there's nothing back there for me. I left a lot of good things behind, good people, friends, and family. Back in the city are a lot of people, places, and things that I love.

I'm not going to rush these next three weeks, but the sun is setting on my year long adventure and when it does, I won't be sad. Back there, in Toronto, there's a whole new adventure waiting – and while people have changed, moved, and grown just as I have... Well, I just can't wait to get back and hear all about it.

Cue credits, wait til they pass, cue 16 bit Scott beating up the words The End, and we were off to Anaheim.

When we rolled up i was met by Jen, a girl I'd met in Auckland – see the city wasn't all bad. She would be offering us a place to stay for the next three nights. We got in, saw she had rearranged her living room for us – a mattress on the floors, and couches moved to block the one small dog, and two giant ones from getting to us – and then were whisked away.

We were headed out to Downtown Disney.

I'd heard of this place – this land of shopping – but never seen it. We had no time for it in Florida, back in December, but here there was light to kill. In downtown Disney there are all number of shops to see an experience. Most will make you giggle and laugh. There's a Lego store too – which is all sorts of fun, holding up the boxes to their crazy augmented reality camera, and seeing the set pop up to life and move around on the screen. I also had a good chuckle looking at the new Star Wars set that included a Mon Calamari Jedi. Now that is a trap. And then there's the Build a Bear. I've mocked this before, but secretly I've always wanted on. I've just wanted one that looks like me.

They do not make beards for the bears – but what they do, apparently, make is Star Wars clothes. I saw a Jedi outfit. I saw a monkey. I knew I must match the two together. Unfortunately by the time I had done that, I knew that I must now buy the creature. Who could turn down a Jedi monkey? Honestly – ask yourself, could you turn it down? It was only thirty three dollars. A stuffed animal, nay, a stuffed Jedi animal at that price is a bargain.

Luckily for my wallet, Katherine saw me with the thing and declared that we were so cute. She would have ended extra o's on the word so. That's how I choose to remember it anyhow, and as such she decided to buy me the creature. Success.

Build a bear is a weird thing. First you grab the skin – limp and lifeless – then you get it stuffed by stepping on a foot pedal. Next you pick out a heart from a pile of them (creepy. I choose the checkered one, as my Jedi has dabbled with light and dark, just like Yoda.) Just may think it ends there, but there is a heart-ritual. You must rub it on your arm for strength, head for jedi wisdom, hands so it won't drop the light saber (yes it does come with a plush jedi-monkey light saber) and all sorts of other things. Then inside the heart goes, and the whole thing is sewn up by the staff.

I had my plush monkey, with a barcode inside. But why a barcode inside? At the computers I filled in information, and set up a birth certificate for Jedi Monkey, then listed personal information. Should the animal go off on any adventures and get lost, much like a dog's microchip it can be returned – should someone be so kind as to return it to a build a bear store.

I also received a code to let me play with the monkey online. Which terrified me. How many of these people online are happy bear hugging kids, and how many predators?

Even though it was a monkey – I still couldn't help calling it a bear. It's my Jedi Monkey Bear.

In the car out of Disney (after checking out their awesome mini-marvel t-shirts... so coo') I dressed it up proper in its new outfit. I was pleased. Far more than I should have been.

But the night wasn't over there. No. We headed to Fuddruckers where Jen bought us all burgers. Katherine had Bison, and I continued on my quest to eat new animals by having an Elk burger. This place was great. Good for you fancy burger joint, good for you.

As the night grew on we sat in the courtyard talking with all her neighbours, and it struck me what a lovely little community they had here. Knowing your neighbours. It's a great thing.

And with that – blogs, up to date. Official. Stamped it. No reversals. Success!