The Trip Part 2 (With Unrelated Intro)(And Christmas in Minnesota Outro)

It’s been a rough time for me since I left San Diego. Well, not really. I’ve just had to rely on friends and family more than I normally would. I had my car towed away last night, very likely with a bad starter. I can’t even be upset about it as I’ve owned it for over a year and have had very little trouble with it, and I purchased it for a mere $300. That said, it really sucks being without a car. I haven’t been to the gym, done my grocery shopping, or been on time to work the one day I’ve been back. I’m writing this post from home, drinking meh coffee because I can’t get to my usual coffee spot, and for the first time the cliché, 2016 be done crossed my mind. But the reality is this year has been one of the best of my lifetime.

 

Now, I lost a couple people that I actually knew, not movie stars or singers, people I had formerly interacted with, and they died under tragic circumstances. I’ve been through some depressed phases while being under house arrest, and I’ve not enjoyed every single day of this year, but fuck, I’m still here; a free man. And the car problem is just a reminder of how far I’ve come. I have the ability and the means to have my car towed to a garage, and pay to have it fixed; more on that as the situation progresses.

This post is about Christmas in San Diego. The atmosphere there was different, most likely because of the lack of snow. As you’ll see in some of the images below, scenes look a lot different out west during the holiday season.

 The high winds on the beach make it tough for inflatables to stay standing.

 

 Christmas morning sunrise.

 

 Me and cousin Will making bruschetta.

 

 Inside the lobby of Hotel del Coronado.

 

Santa and his reindeer on fake snow with a palm tree. A great shot, I thought.

 

Even without the snow, the air was full of the festive vibe. Even more popular than ever it seemed this year, the ugly sweater donned the masses, and we blended right in when we wore ours.

 

 

I didn't need snow to make me think it was a special time of year. This year, Christmas was a state of mind, not just a holiday. I spent it with the people I love, and did things I'm not normally able to do during this time of year, and all of that made the whole vacation the best it could possibly have been.

 

Before I forget, I had Christmas in Minnesota, too. The night before I left, I went to my aunt Connie's where the rest of the family spent the evening eating, laughing, and exchanging gifts. These two celebrations of life, love, and family were exactly what I needed in my life to propel me to the next level in my recovery, and truly understand how much I have to be grateful for in this amazing year of 2016. If I keep doing what I'm doing, it's only going to get better from here.

 

My beautiful grandmother in the foreground, and cousin in the background.

 

This is as close to all of us as I ever got, thanks Hannah.

 

 Mother and a cousin.

 

Hannah showing off what a true gift it is to have my family.

 

A great shot of the two youngest cousins.

 

 

I can't think of another word, so I'll just say that I am truly blessed to have so much good in my life, and clearly that all helps to offset the bad things like being temporarily inconvenienced by not having a car for a few days. This, too, shall pass, and life will move on with me as a passenger, enjoying every minute, and every great view.



The Trip Part 1

I’m somewhere over the middle of the country is my best guess. Recently, the pilot told us all that to our right was the Grand Canyon, and to our left Lake Mead. My view was obstructed on either side by a Pratt&Whitney turbo jet engine, but when I poked my head through the chairs in front of me I was able to see the massive scar on our Earth, if only briefly. I thought about the wonders below me, then I began to reminisce about the wonders I had just left behind me. I had been on many vacations in my lifetime, but this has been my favorite of them all for so many reasons.

At the very least, this trip has restored in me a faith that good food still exists on a simple, affordable, and high-quality level. And at the very most this expedition brought me closer to the ones I love. For five days, the Maertz clique traversed high and low, touring the artificially wet desert town, in search of nature and civilization at its finest. Just two hours ago, before coming to the airport, we hiked the world-famous Torrey Pines nature preserve. FitBit tells me we went four-and-a-half miles, and took 9,800 steps, and climbed 57 flights in the process of taking in nature’s finest coastline. Here’s the proof:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I tried desperately to get everybody gathered for a picture, to no avail.

 Uncle Tex and Aunt Maggie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I already shared an entire post on food but I find it necessary to write about one restaurant in particular. I could tell where we were going shortly after we drove through the underpass of a giant, graffiti-caked bridge. My uncle was commenting on the Mexican Revolution, or something relevant to the art, but I was drawn to something I haven’t seen since… I don’t know when. Just in the distance, in a relatively calm neighborhood, stretched a line of easily 100 people, all shuffling about to the ultimate destination, Las Cuatros Milpas. I was told that this was the place to get real Mexican food, and there were no lies involved in that statement.

 Che

 $6 for a tamale and five hand-rolled tacos, fried and smothered in sour cream, queso blanco, and cilantro.

This is the back of the line.

 

We took our place in the back of the line and slowly moved up toward the door. About half way up I started to smell the things that set Mexican food apart, namely cilantro, lime, and cumin, along with a plethora of other unfamiliar scents that made a detonation of glee in my nostrils. Uncle Tex told me that everything was made from scratch here, down to the tortillas, and I knew then that I was in for a treat. When I finally did round the corner and into the serving line, I saw exactly what I had hoped for; several Mexican woman working frantically over boiling pots, bubbling grease, and the freshest of ingredients. I had been trying to…..

Holy fuck we just went through the scariest turbulence I have ever encountered. I am shaking, and I think I hear crying from a few places on the plane. The wings were so bent I couldn't see the tips. I’m glad I decided to wear a diaper today. We have had to change directions now to avoid whatever was happening in our flightpath. I am sweating profusely, and only now did I think of the post I wrote a while back predicting a disastrous trip home. Fuck. No injuries; we are all safe.

I had been trying to explain over a few days and home cooked meals how terrible restaurants have become at overcomplicating things, and that the best meals had the fewest ingredients, and a large amount of prep involved, and here we were at a place that applied just those principles. The food was inexpensive, and even so, I could see a lot of room for profit. As much as I am capable of eating, everything you see on this tray cost only $6; I don’t think I could possibly consume $10 worth of food here, and for that I will never forget them.

 

The pilot just said that the pocket of air we encountered was very rare, and he hadn’t seen one in years. There is never any warning, and they apologize. I don’t think he had much control over it, but it’s nice to hear it from him.

I'm at home now, and although I could keep writing for days, I need to eat, shower, and get to work in the morning. You can look forward to many more posts, and a barrage of pictures in the near future.

Food

How can a vacation be so much different than life at home? It’s the little things, the big things, and everything in between. This post is dedicated to food; oh great sustainer of life.

Shortly after our arrival, we pulled up to my aunt and uncle's house and I was asked if I wanted a mandarin orange. We were standing outside, so I was a little confused until my uncle pointed behind me to a small tree on the boulevard that had a few perfect examples of the sweet citrus fruit enticingly dangling from the wispy branches. I obliged, and in under a minute I had peeled and eaten the freshest fruit I had had up to this point in my life. I had the thought that I could actually taste the sun. That was just the beginning.

This short, stocky, bearer of fruit was my first glimpse into the freshness of coastal foods.

Last night as I mentioned in my last post, I made bruschetta and roasted chicken for dinner. Well, I decided to make breakfast as well, so my aunt Maggie and I walked across the street this morning to Sprouts, which reminds me of Trader Joe’s back home. We got all of the fixings for what I call Vegas French toast. I spread cream cheese and jelly on slices of sourdough bread and sandwich them together before dipping them in the egg batter, then I roll that around in crushed Frosted Flakes before frying them in butter. Um, I hate tooting my own horn, but, beep-beep, it was pretty damn good.

I’ll skip forward to lunch, because this is about food. I will backtrack when I get home, and share with you the great moments of this vacation, and probably more about food. We went to Ironside Oyster and Seafood where I ordered a sampler of fresh oysters from six different spots along the coast. They were all delicious and different in their own ways, and they were sided with a Champagne-shallot reduction, and a horseradish sauce that could have started a fire without incitement, and without the need for an accelerant.  The chef began to shuck them as I made a trip to the coolest bathroom I’ve seen in years, maybe ever. When I came back they were waiting for me and the feast began. One-by-one I slurped down the ugly, salty, briny morsels and I was in heaven. I honestly must say that I nearly teared up as my senses were encumbered with true flawlessness on every level.   

The view from our seats.

For some reason I will never truly understand, maybe because he could tell I was a foodie, the chef walked across the entirety of the restaurant with a plate that I had a sneaking suspicion was headed for us. There was no reason to think that, but I guessed correctly. He didn’t even offer an explanation, he merely told us what was on the plate, and set it down in front of me to eat. I was gasping. What lay before me was a true work of art, and I knew something about it would be special.

I took one bite, and in one second I said out loud, “This is the best octopus I have ever had.” And I really meant it. If you know me, and know what I like, you know that I love octopi—as a food—and nothing I have ever had held any weight to this masterpiece which was surrounded by chorizo sausage, and chipotle aioli. Never had I bitten such tender, flavorful tentacle. I had grasped total nirvana in that restaurant, and I believe it may take years to have an encounter like that again, and I also believe that it may be when I go back there next time I’m in California that I achieve it again.

Hannah's BF Matt, tending to the veggie side of the operation.

Here's my work. That is an 18" Weber, if you're trying to judge the size of those steaks.

And just a few short hours later it was time to fire up the grills and begin making dinner. I say grills because we as a group have two vegetarians, and respectfully I grill their food separately. Anyhow, we had made trips to a butcher for tri-tip and chicken wings, and the farmers market for fresh veggies, so some of us prepped the vegetables while the others of us set the table, manned the grills, and made various side dishes. We were busy, and in the end we all sat down for a giant meal and great conversation that I will never forget. Again I was elated; so happy to be surrounded by the things I love most, food and family. It’s Christmas Eve, and it’s time for bed, so, Merry Christmas and to all, a good night.

San Diego

The smell is the first thing I noticed. The minute I stepped off of the cramped DC-9, I could feel the warmth and humidity in my lungs. It was a warm reprieve from the cold, bitter winds of the north, and a much deserved vacation that awaited me beyond the Delta terminal and baggage claim of the San Diego airport. I felt elation, excitement, exhaustion, and trepidation, but the only thing I wanted to feel was the warm California sun on my pale skin.

I wanted to write a paragraph that sounded really “deep,” because I’ve been doing that lately, but I took a break after writing the first two sentences to make dinner for my family and I kind of forgot where I wanted to go with it. Right now I’m in the living room, sitting around the fire with my aunt, uncle Tex, two cousins, and a non-member of the family (my cousin’s bf), having just eaten a large plate of homemade bruschetta, and waiting for the main course—roasted chicken and yams—to be done.

So far today we’ve gone out for lunch at a beautiful restaurant with a deck that had a striking view of the ocean between two seaside motels. There was no sun today, and the wind had a bit of a bite to it, but compared to home, it was balmy and moist. After eating we strolled along the Pacific Beach walkway and pier during which I saw everything you see below. I didn’t post every picture I took because there are things you can look up and see on the internet, like the ocean, and people. That, said, there will probably be at least one picture of me and the ocean, I haven’t decided yet. And, although you won’t understand the time difference here, I’m going to put the computer down for a while and pay attention to this conversation, and enjoy an evening in with my fam.

It’s morning, and adjusting for the time zone, I’m up pretty late. But here it’s just after seven, and I’m all alone in the living room. Not true, their dog, Rocky is with me. He’s about the same age as Willie.

Last night I slept like a rock, except for a few times I woke up to the gentle sound of rain dancing on the roof. When I stepped out into the night air at some unknown time in the middle of the night to use the bathroom next door, I realized that there was not any rain at all; it was just the fingers of the palm fronds tapping their sleepy melody for me so I could rest well.

I should note that I’m sleeping in my aunt’s office which has been set up as a temporary bedroom for me. It is detached from the main house, but connected by a garage, and accessible by way of the back yard by going around the pool. There is also what I think is called a pool house that serves as my bathroom.

So, that said, here are some pictures that I’ve taken thus far. There will be much more to come, but I think I’ll probably wait until I get back to write it all out. So, Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanza, and everything else that we as humans celebrate this time of year; May you be safe, happy, and loved.

 This here's a mobile barber, on the beach. A novel idea, I thought.

Just a cool shot of some birds hanging out.

I like this because of the palm tree in the background. It's a lot more Christmassy in California than I thought it might be.



 My cousin Hannah, daughter of Tex, riding a pelican.

Clearly, I ate the mussels.

This is the boardwalk of the Crystal pier at Pacific Beach. These little cabins can be rented out, and famous names such as Jon Belushi and Robin Williams have sewn their wild oats here (done a bunch of drugs discreetly).

There are a lot more pictures, and a lot more adventure for me to write about. Stay tuned.

One for the Road

I'm at home. All is quiet, even the mice. The mice are quiet because I bought mouse traps last night, and two of them worked right away. My roommate, whilst anxiously sitting the night away in the living room, watched them as they formed a food-brigade from a hole made in the ceiling earlier in the season by a black squirrel, to the various cupboards and drawers in the kitchen below. He told me this daybreak that they were quite acrobatic. Well, not acrobatic enough to avoid altogether the traps we craftily set up ahead of time. This morning I discovered that one large mouse had dragged its own body from the kitchen cupboard to the living room, just outside my bedroom, while under the constriction of a spring-loaded trap around its bulbous neck. He was a fighter, but in the end, we won. I did actually think about taking a picture of that mess to prove the great quality of my new camera, and then I thought better of it because it wouldn’t really fit the theme of where these next few posts are going.

 

Where are these next few posts going? Well, Arden Hills, St. Paul, Woodbury, and San Diego, CA. I’m going to show you, my faithful readers, what means the most to me these days, starting with a couple pictures of my grandparents, and my dog, Willie. In that order because that is the order in which they were taken.

 

These are my grandparents, Jim and Sue.

 

 This is my main man, Willie. That carpet is real, and I live with it every day.

I’m not a photographer, and I don’t understand most of the settings on my camera yet, but I will soon enough.

 

This here is a picture of a sundog that appeared just after opening the box to my camera. This is the very first picture I took.

 

It will be nice to have the addition of this photographic element to my blog. It will give another angle to think about when I’m lost for words, and can’t keep things going. And it will let me start recording all of the important things in life that seem to keep happening in succession, allowing me to look back one day to when I was just starting life over.

 

 

I’m done with work for the day, and the week. In fact, I’m done working for a week. I’ve been going hard all month—I’ve had only three days off in December—and am ready for some R&R. This will prove difficult with Christmas and a vacation upcoming, but somehow I’ll manage.

 

Since I won’t see most of you (and in many cases I don’t even know you) until after Christmas, I’d like to take this opportunity to wish you all a very Happy Holidays. I hope you are spending time with the ones you love, and the ones who need your love. As far as me, well, I’m in a place where I’ve felt more love around me than I have for most of my life and it feels really good to be me.

My next post will be from California. Peace out, suckers!