So things are going pretty well in the new home and new neighborhood. After a major production, our DIRECTV is up and running. We've established a produce exchange rate with our next-door neighbor. (Oranges and lemons for tomatoes and cucumbers) And every Wednesday night I take great pleasure in the routine of taking the garbage out to the curb. Yes, I think you could say we are the very picture of Southern California Suburbia.
Well…that is except for our noticeable lack of toys.
Toys. California toys. RVs, speedboats, fishing boats, dune buggies, motorcycles, quads, motor homes, wave runners, etcetera. You see you're not a true SoCal homeowner until you borrow against your home equity and purchase yourself a driveway full of man-toys. And no collection of man-toys is complete without some ridiculously big gas guzzling truck or SUV to tug everything around with. But alas, our driveway is only home to a pair of modest 4 door sedans and the morning paper. No wonder the homes out here are so big--everyone needs more garage space. The bigger the garage, the bigger the house has to be to keep an eye pleasing garage-home ratio. An eight-car garage attached to a 1200 square foot house would look pretty silly. Or would it?
Besides assembling a larger recreational arsenal in your driveway than your neighbor, what are the man-toys for, you ask? Ahh…the beauty of living in San Diego is that you vacation in the Desert or on the River. Now, I've only been here a year, but I'm pretty sure the beauty of living in San Diego is living in San Diego. Class, let's review what we've learned about San Diego. Almost perfect climate. Tremendous beaches. Year round opportunities to take part in any outdoor activity deemed worthy by mankind. Yeah, the first thing I need to do is lay down 100 grand for a 2006 Cougar motor home to escape this hellhole. But, for others, the Desert and the River call, and the Southern Californian answers towing along 25 tons of steel, plastic, and gasoline.
Before take our vacation from San Diego, let's take the dime tour of these two destinations.
The Desert. Basically anything between the California coast and Las Vegas. It's lethally hot during the day and unbearably cold at night. Hmmm. From what I understand, one drives out, parks next to a dune, and sets up camp for a weekend, not unlike Uncle Rico in Napoleon Dynamite. I believe you're supposed to commune with nature in a very spiritual way by running your noisy quad through an otherwise peaceful setting. At night you build a fire and marvel at the beauty of your surroundings. Then, you climb into your climate controlled land capsule and fall asleep.
The River. The Colorado to be specific. If one drives out through the California desert, this traveler is rewarded with an oasis like none other--THE RIVER. And once at The River, one is greeted with a layer of heat and humidity so thick apparently the only comfortable place to sit is floating inside an inner tube buoyed by a mesh sack of beer cans. I've asked a number of people what the attraction of going to THE RIVER is. They have response has always included the fact that lax law enforcement allows you to drink everywhere. I'm not making this up. Grown adults driving five hours for a shot at public intoxications. Maybe, if you're lucky, you can hit up a few college house parties on the way back.
Everybody needs to take a vacation now and then--to get away from his or her average everyday life. For San Diegans that means leaving nirvana and returning back to earth…a lot of sandy, dry, arid earth. It's true: you always want what you don't have. I remember meeting the owner of this photo gallery in Kauai. Their anticipated vacation that year was to New England to watch the leaves change. Wow. For a kid from the Foliage Belt I can't think of anything more mundane than trees gradually losing chlorophyll. But perhaps the gallery owners will visit a gallery in Vermont and buy a picture of all the deep reds and oranges of a New England autumn and for them that will just as special as the photo of Tunnels Beach we bought from their gallery.
I guess the Kauai photographer and my neighbor with the RoadMaster just want to experience something new and different, and who can't understand that? I suppose I could try something new and different like having an open mind, but that just wouldn't be me. But seriously, something besides my right foot was driving us out west and who’s to say it isn't that same desire to see something new? I don't see myself traveling to the desert anytime soon, but maybe I'll go easier on the man-toy owners and their recreational time. Like the good book says, "Thou shall not disparage thy neighbor's wave runner."
