We saw Crazy Rich Asians the other evening. I don't voluntarily go see Rom-Coms but felt compelled to see this one not only for research in better understanding the local culture, but I love Constance Wu. I liked the movie a lot...won't give any spoilers but they nail some things in it that were hilarious. For example, one of the not crazy rich dads who was the comic relief was touting his college career and his alma mater of Cal State Fullerton. Might be that only Asians and Angelenos got the significance of that, but totally nailed it and said all you needed to know about his character. Was trying to hide it, but at the end my eyes were misty, which is probably why I don't like Rom-Coms cause I am a sucker and don't like to admit that deep down, Marianas Trench deep, I just might have some emotions and hate when they get dragged to the surface.
Part IV (of 5)
This section covers empty nest week. After two weeks in SF with Babydoll, she got on a plane with her girlfriend to go to Seattle. The Boy was still doing his summer gig thing in Virginia and we wouldn't see him for two more weeks. Betty arrived about the same time and since we had some time before she needed to be in Seattle, we had a week with just us. We batted around some ideas and landed on a road trip up to Seattle taking in the northern California coast, Crater Lake, and a couple days in Portland. Cruising in a convertible is something that we've always wanted to do, so we swallowed the cost, and it was really pricey, and got a sweet looking Mustang convertible.
Ha
Thing was super sexy but I didn't want to upgrade to the more powerful model cause as they say in the Fast franchise, it's the driver and not the car. This basic model was gutless. You'd think just from it being a Mustang that it would have some oompf, but had to put the pedal all the way down to get it moving, and it would do that jerk when I did. Did receive a few "nice car" comments and they were all from grey haired white dudes sporting goatees, wearing shorts that were very cargo and felt very mid-life crises-ey. I loved being in this thing for a week, but think that itch has now been scratched forever.
As this was Betty's vacation week and she wanted to relax, spent three nights in an Air BnB a few miles south of Mendocino. A very small and simple place, but it overlooked a pristine bay and had a hot tub on the deck overlooking it. A great spot to watch some Aussie Rules football.
We became addicted to a home improvement show and binged it for days. Fixer Uppers with Chip and Joanna Gaines. Learned later that they are huge with a media empire. The premise of the show is they take a couple to three houses and offer options on fixing it up based on their budget. They then refurbish the place they picked and here is the fantasy part...everyone is always happy. The show follows the same arc each episode. Joanna wants to blow out a wall to the kitchen, Chip does all the construction and Joanna decorates it. A giant clock with no hands and giant letters are part of her décor and the first one of us to spot each would yell it out with glee. Why this show, with a goofy bumbling white dude cracking bad jokes and doing whatever his bossy Asian of ambiguous origin wife tells him to do would appeal to us, I just do not understand.
We did a long driving day from Mendocino to Crater Lake, stopping to hug/drive through a tree in Redwood forest country.
Booked a cabin just outside Crater Lake park. It is such a geologically unique and stunningly beautiful place. Wildfires in the area hampered the visibility somewhat, but still...if you haven't been is a must.
20, maybe 30 minutes later, her turn was over. That 20 minutes was the only time she got behind the wheel and we drove well over 1000 miles. Thelma drove longer than that in that movie with Louise. No problem for me cause I'd just assume drive all the time anyway, but what we bickered about more than the usual this trip was her co-piloting skills.
I have definite thoughts on what a good road trip co-pilot should be, but thought I'd consult the web to see if there was a consensus. There was. Navigator, DJ, Entertainer, Planner, Photographer were the main topics with plenty of advice on how to be a good one offered. There are even Official Rules for riding shotgun. Look, husbands and wives can touch nerves of the other that no one else can and mine are particularly raw and exposed behind the wheel. Am not gonna go into a blow by blow account cause she can't defend herself here and really don't want to re-open those wounds, but think I figured out why she has become so bad at it. For her work travels, and they are copious, she gets driven around constantly by all manner of drivers in any country you can think of. She doesn't have to co-pilot any of these and after nearly every trip I get to hear how awful some of them are, so figure at this point that her default attitude in the car is disgust with the driver.
I'd say that when we drive together, her opinion is that 50% of the time I am doing something wrong, 15% I need to go faster (usually cause she needs to go potty), she is asleep 33%, and I am a good driver 2%. The above poll has a margin of error of 2%. At one point in very rural Oregon, where every sign welcoming you to a new town feels the need to declare that here in "Bum Fuck, Oregon, We SUPPORT Our Troops" (did someone claim you didn't or is this just code for stay out hippie/brown people...this is the part of the country where Rambo: First Blood was set for a reason), Betty is snoozing away. The pivotal scene of A Few Good Men, where Jessup is melting down on the stand, pops into my mind in relation to our driving dynamic. I will now rewrite that scene with me as Col. Jessup.
Betty/Lt Kaffee: Slow down. (Pointing) Go that way. Turn that jungle music down. I am entitled to that...
Me/Col. Jessup: My dear, we live in a world that has roads, and those have to be driven by men with cars. Whose gonna do it you,. You Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for me passing those cars on a two lane road, and you curse the Fast Franchise. You have that luxury, you have the luxury of not knowing what I know, that getting a speeding ticket while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence while grotesque and incomprehensible, to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you talk about parties; you want me behind that wheel. You need me behind that wheel! We use words like zipper, slow traffic keep right, SLAB, We use these words as the backbone of a life spent getting somewhere, you use them as a punch line. I have neither the time, nor the inclination, to explain myself to a person, who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very driving efficiency that I provide, and then questions the manner, in which I provide it. I'd rather you just say 'thank you' and go on your way. Otherwise I suggest you pick up some driving gloves, and get behind the wheel. Either way, I don't give a damn, what you think you are entitled to!
My favorite part of that scene is how Nicholson says with total disgust and disdain..."you Lieutenant Wienberg?"
After Crater Lake, we spent a couple nights in Portland and stayed at a new hipster place called the Hi-Lo Autograph that was in one of the oldest buildings in very downtown. After a bunch of nights bathing in camp showers, getting into the deluxe one here made me realize how soft I've become cause it was awesome. The area surrounding the hotel was equal parts high end Portland and the lowest depths of that society. I'd get up early to get a coffee and the bouncers from the all night strip club across the street were just getting off work and dodging the pools of vomit on the sidewalk. The homeless situation in Portland, as it was in SF and LA, was atrocious. Will discuss more in the Seattle section of this space.
Our time there was spent mostly seeing friends but we did have a couple hours to shop and Betty wanted to get her bras at the sales tax free Oregon Nordstrom, cause stuff is practically free because of it. After she finishes getting sized in the bra section, we're looking around and she sees a deal on ladies underpants and decides to buy some for Babydoll. She picks them out and gets 4 pairs. The young lady at the counter rings it up and says it is $54. I exclaim in my high voice..."Fifty-four dollars for four pairs? That is my underwear budget for a decade!" I then drop my voice several octaves and say in my dirtiest of voices, "but to be fair, I rarely wear underwear." Think that was my best line of the summer.
Finally for this week, quite a few passings of icons. Didn't have any attachment to Aretha or Neil Simon but have all the respect for both. I followed the career of John McCain much more closely. We visited the prison in Hanoi where he was kept and heard that tale in depth. Didn't learn anything that you couldn't read in a book, but the feel of what that was like made an impact on all of us. When the landscape was far less polarized than today, he was my candidate going into the 2000 election and remember what a nascent Fox News and a win at all costs W. did to him in South Carolina. In 2008, I took a good long time deciding who to vote for to that point that even though I did vote for Barack Obama, was still invited to multiple democrats election night viewing parties to be the token Republican. A couple summers ago on a tour of the Capitol, we saw him walking from his office to the Senate chamber and gave him a wave. My opinions on his political choices run the range of disgust to admiration, but I never questioned his devotion to country over party and the instances where he came out and said he was wrong is a virtue that is to be admired and one we all can do better in working towards.
Have seen many a tribute to him last few days but what has really stood out was the vitriol from many on the right. The President's childishness was hardly surprising and fully expect his private thoughts being happy about it to leak in the near future. What disgusted me to no end were the folks still carrying that d-bags water in his one sided piss war with the late Senator, which by all accounts he started for some bizarre reason I cannot (and do not want to) remember. These are the same people that are outraged at the blacks for kneeling for the anthem cause the President says it disrespects the military yet will turn a blind eye to his disrespect of war heroes, turning the VA into one run by the fellas an the 19th hole of a golf club, and of course his own dodging of the draft cause of bone spurs. He counts on this segment of the population to be either so stupid as to not being able to keep two things in their head at the same time, or on their racism in all forms to fill a rally hall and make him feel better. I hope that if you run into these people that you tell them what you think. Try to be nice and calm pointing out the hypocrisy. I have tried and it can work, but the odds are long against it. Not a single one of them will say that the President is a decent man and most will readily admit that his actions are disgusting. They are completely unable to defend his policies yet will sit up when he blows his racist dog whistle like a fat kid in front of a box of donuts. You have my permission to cut them loose. You're never gonna persuade them so why bother? Not a single one of them would ever cop to it, probably even when they are lying there in the dark and sleep is coming over them, but in your heart, you know they are racist as fuck.
And vote. Not just you, but your colleagues, friends and family. Hold their feet to the fire and ask them every time you can if they are registered. Do it now. The rich folks, like Sheldon Adelson who got $400 million in tax breaks this year, then donated $30 million to Paul Ryan's "super pac", are counting on you not to
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