Rich and I headed to Santa Barbara Thursday morning, Scion packed and adventure in our sails. We stayed next/close to the beach at El Capitan Canyon, pictured in this month's Sunset magazine. We thought what the hell, cheaper than a hotel in Santa Barbara and a authentic experience. The first night was dreamy, in our safari tent, cushy bed and electricity. The compound had one (we thought there'd only be one) disturbing attribute: it was totally The Darma Compound. Thursday in the parking lot there were only three other cars there, probably 100 cabins and 50 tents...we walked through to the store to see a kid heavy family outing with a section of 30 cabins...I had chills, kept waiting for Sawyer and Freckles to pop up...thankfully they didn't but the underlining fear remained for me. But the store had stellar food, energetic staff and nature for days. It is set a bike ride from a picturesque beach view t-boned with a wandering creek. There were birds galore. At night it was cold, and the walk to the bathroom house was terrifying but short. No smoke monsters! and I was looking. The next day we planned an outing to Solvang as I had spent many days running amok with my cousins in my early days. And the movie Sideways brought some of those memories back, I had to go. So easing our way through the vineyards and rolling hills we passed the first and only Ostrich Land, which freaked us out seeing 100's of huge prehistoric birds cruzing about from the highway...but we pressed on. In 1977-9ish Solvang was a Danish invasion, from the food to the windmills and little wooden shoes everywhere. Well 30ish years later it was just a tourist trap, buses coming in from all over dropping Seniors off for the day. So we walked around and got out. I got no flashbacks...which is was sad but Rich indulged me by going my grandparents house in Santa Barbara. Driving away, disheartened...we passed Ostrich Land again and Rich insisted we turn around and go in. Of course camera in tour. So the owner was very serious taking us through the training because the Ostriches were huge, strong and hungry. The utensil to feed the birds was a steal dustpan with a dog dish tied to it. So you go out the door and the birds rush you...I was up first and terrified. The started pecking, and I was all about feeding them but keeping my body, face and hair as far away as possible.Rich just stood there clicking and laughin his ass off...then he was up, Stud man, no fear and they got pissed when your bowl was empty. It was exhilarating! Made the trip worth it!
Then down to my Grandparents house, or about the general area. My mom remembered the street name but not the number. Funny how childhood memories make everything soooo much bigger. The magnificent house I remembered was smallish and simple but held memories nonetheless. Many summer mornings waking to my Grandads famous sourdough pancakes, my fourposter bed and my Nana's love of flowers. We traipsed around Santa Barbara and wound up on some harbor. We spoke to the docent at the Santa Barbara Outdoor Activity division about the Channel Islands. Maybe a future Kayak site. She was soooo bored and just thrilled to have someone interested to talk to, she said most people come up ask for dining recommendations and then leave. Then back to the campground...parking lot now filled. Filled with no less than 400 kids (Rich says the numbers increase with each installment of the story) These were "make a wish kids" from the intercity, one might think that may strike an empathetic bone in me but no. They were everywhere, screaming and having fun like kids camping should make...but come on we were hostages between their cabins. There was not enough wine to drink to make the noise of their band serenade sound melodic! They pounded, what sounded like buckets with wooden spoons for four hours. Not amused and interested in marital bliss, Rich offered the only pair of earplugs to me. I drifted off to sleep at 9:30 and Rich was cursing every last one of them up towards 11:30pm. Alls good, someday they'll be camping in the cloth, non-sound barrier tents! We checked out enroute to Tom's big 60th bash. We happily checked into the Courtyard, and took a real shower and headed to the party. Well, never having gone to a LA party, it was everything you'd imagine (Cookie you host quite a party) Million dollar house, catered, dance floor and an amazing group of friends. Rich even re-met Mindy from his graduating class. What a coinsidence! Tom and Cookie were in their element, smoozing and entertaining. We drank, ate and remet many people. The P's were there, Patty, Peggy and Pammy...and Bug, yes Bug. all friends from many decades of Cookie. Tom, a helicopter pilot from Vietnam, who flew in Thailand, Alaska and all over the world has his posse. Great tales, many smiles and loads of love. The nephews where there, in charge of outdoor heaters, Mr. Margarita machine (yes they have them....like a slurpee machine at 711) and the music. We danced alittle and thourghly enjoyed ourselves...fonded memory of Cookie, was walking around with a Budweiser in her hand, posed above here camera taking pictures. Welp a quick stop in the am for a family visit and we got to see the gift I bought Tom on Ebay...cuz in our minds...he is Superman. Lob all, back to work tamale!
