I don't deal well with stupid people, part 2

So this one slipped out unintentionally.  And I felt bad about it.  I don't really intend to be mean to people.  I try really hard to be nice.  But sometimes I just don't deal well with stupid people.

I was in Sedona, Arizona, with a friend.  We were visiting the famous "Chapel of the Holy Cross."  Here is a photo (from Wikipedia):

There were a lot of tourists who had the same idea we had, at the same time, to visit the chapel, so there was a line of cars slowly making its way up the curvy road to the parking lot at the top of the hill.  It was moving very slowly.  Basically, when one car left, they'd let another in.

We parked at the bottom of the hill and began walking up the steep, curvy road.  Since there were so many cars on the uphill side, we walked on the shoulder of the downhill side--there was more room there.

A car came zooming up the road in the oncoming (downhill) lane of traffic, passing all the other cars in the uphill lane.  We were just approaching a sharp left curve.  I was thinking what a rude, insensitive jerk the driver was.  The car stopped next to us and the driver lowered her window. 

Driver:  Um, that's a big curve up there.  Do you think another car might come down the road and run headfirst into me?

LM:  Well, yeah, that could happen...

Driver (sounding alarmed):  What should I do?!?!

LM:  Well, you could wait in line like everyone else.

Driver:  What...?  Oh, no!  You mean those cars aren't parked?  I thought they were parked!  Oh, they must think I'm such a twit!


*************

OK, so she was clueless, not soulless.  I forgave her instantly and immediately felt bad about thinking horrible thoughts about her--at a church, no less! I even reassured her that, now that I thought about it, she was right, the windows of so many of the cars are tinted, you can't even see if someone is inside them.

In other words, I tried not to act like a self-righteous prig.  But the fact remains that I don't deal well with stupid people, and so it just sort of slipped out... and I was kind of mean to a person who was probably really nice, even if she wasn't all that bright.

She backed down the road and got in line, "like everyone else."

We walked on up to the chapel, where I prayed for forgiveness.

Best. Friend. Ever!

The other day, I posted about my "bestest friend in the whole world" who sent me the wonderful Contigo travel mugs for Christmas.  I have known her for over 40 years (yes, since preschool!), and she truly is an amazing woman.  She has raised / is raising three wonderful boys, while running a successful bankruptcy law practice in South Carolina.  She is smart and beautiful and kind and really just the BEST friend.

Today, I want to tell you that, in addition to my "bestest friend in the whole world," I also have a "best friend ever," whom I have known for over 30 years (since middle school) and who, on a whim and because we haven't seen each other for like 6 years, invited me to come visit her in Birmingham, Alabama, to see the band "Little House" (the musicians are friends of ours) play.

We are planning the trip to coincide with Do Dah Day, which is a fun annual music festival in Birmingham that has been around for 34 years (click the link above to check it out - it's awesome! - and click here for more information about the origins / history of this quirky and fun local event).  It has the usual festival things -- music, food, art, kid activities, a parade (I love a parade!), and lots of fun.  Little House is playing at the festival. 

My best friend ever used to be heavily involved in organizing and promoting Do Dah Day.  I think she has reduced her involvement in it more recently, but still attends every year.  It is a great festival and raises money every year for deserving local charities that benefit homeless animals.

My friend even offered me free plane tickets (using frequent flier miles) and a bedroom in her house so that I would have no excuse to say "no"! 

But here's the clincher, for me: The trip offers the opportunity for me to see my friend's older child, who was a newborn the last time I was there, and to meet her younger child, whose photos I have seen on Facebook but have never met, and who is totally adorable.

Needless to say, it is an offer that cannot be refused!  So I am going to Alabama for Do Dah Day!  I can't wait!

****

And I have to confess that I have at least four other "best friends" who I totally love for various reasons, not all of them having to do with receiving awesome travel mugs or free plane tickets to Do Dah Day in Birmingham.

I am truly blessed to have so many wonderful friends.  :)

World's Oldest Rodeo - Arizona Trivia

Did you know that Prescott, Arizona, lays claim to the "World's Oldest Rodeo"? First held on July 4, 1888, the Rodeo has been a part of Prescott "doings" every year since then.

In fact, the World's Oldest Rodeo (celebrating its 125th year this summer) is 25 years older than the State of Arizona (which just turned 100).

This year's rodeo in Prescott will be held June 28 to July 4, 2012, and will feature all the usual events - roping, bronc riding, bull riding, steer wrestling, and barrel racing - and the Town of Prescott also hosts a parade, an arts and crafts festival, and a fireworks show, to boot.

Personally, I can't imagine wanting to ride one of those broncos or bulls. I cringe in pain just watching it! Have any of you ever been to a rodeo? Or ridden in one?




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Click here for more information about the World's Oldest Rodeo.

Arizona Trivia

Today's Arizona trivia lesson features the lovely town of Snowflake, Arizona.

Lots of people think the town name came from its co-founders, the Snows and the Flakes. Almost, but apparently not quite, true.

According to the town's official web site, Snowflake, Arizona, was founded by a Mormon, William Flake, in honor of a Mormon Apostle, Erastus Snow. Thus, the name: Snow-Flake, drop the hyphen and it's Snowflake - an ironic name, since the town doesn't get much, if any, snow.

There are still Snows in Arizona, and Flakes. Jeff Flake, for example, is Arizona's Congressman for the 6th Congressional District.

Lots of people think he's sort of "flakey." (hahaha. sorry...)

G. Murray Snow is not, however, considered "flakey." He was a well-respected judge on the Arizona Court of Appeals (and a super-nice guy, too).

Some Friday Photos

Here are some photos my daughter and I took at Phoenix's Desert Botanical Garden. They are currently hosting a glass sculpture exhibit, by artist Dale Chihuly. Apparently he makes glass sculptures and exhibits them in botanical gardens all across the U.S. (and probably other places, too), so maybe you can see some near you sometime. Or you can just check out the photos below.

We went to see the sculptures twice, once during the day, and once at night. They are quite interesting and beautiful. I was surprised that my kids were actually interested in seeing them a second time, but they both agreed the glass was "way cool" and they wanted to see it at night. I thought it was worth a second look, too. Since most of you live too far away to visit these yourselves, and anyway the exhibit ends May 31, I thought I'd give you a quick tour of the "highlights."

First up, a giant blue "orb" hiding behind the prickly pear cactus - very cool:





Here is a photo of a boat full of glass balls....




... and one of some tall-ish blue glass sculptures that almost seem to wave in the wind like an odd bulbous prairie grass (get it, "blue glass / blue grass"?) ...




Next, a photo of some strange white bulbous sculptures among the organ pipe and prickly pear cacti:




Here we have the giant neon yellow ... what - saguaro cactus? phallic symbol? ... you decide. This one is visible as you drive up the road to the garden's entrance, and acts as a beacon, luring the multitudes in to see the exhibit:




And here is an "arty" photo my daughter took of her brother in front of the giant neon yellow phallic sym- ... er, saguaro cactus:




Here are some interesting tall blue skinny ones with tops remiscent of the "crested saguaro" cactus:



Here is a giant round-ish sculpture, reminiscent of a sea anemone, or perhaps medusa, with all the snake-like tentacles sticking out all around:



And here is a close-up of the same sculpture:


Beautiful, odd, awesome, different, pretty, cool, neat, elegant, strange ... these are all words I heard used to describe the glass sculptures during our visits. How would you describe them?

The Good Luck Mobile

Fancy Schmancy's post from yesterday reminded me of this story, I guess because her car's "symptoms" seem similar to what I experienced. I am hoping her car story will have a happy ending, too, and not just be a cash drain the week before Christmas.

Way back in the dark ages, when my husband and I were still "just dating," we took a vacation to San Francisco. We drove up the Pacific Coast Highway in my husband's Suzuki SJ-410. It was a tiny Japanese-made jeep-like car with a lawn mower size engine, that was the precursor to the Samurai. (Remember those? They were famous for rolling over in the '80's.)

Near Coachella, California, there is an area where the average wind velocity is 40 mph. In the '70's, they erected lots of wind turbines there, to harness the wind energy. There are thousands of them, in little rows on the hills surrounding this one town.




Something about the rows and rows of those huge, slow-moving and mesmerizing mechanical things always reminds me of the marching hammers in Pink Floyd's movie, "The Wall." (See the below video, starting at about 1:30).





Of course, the wind turbines are not scary like the hammers. (Unless you're a bird. Apparently a fair number of birds are killed each year by these wind turbines). I do not feel the abject terror that those hammers induced in the movie. It is just something about the mechanical relentlessness of the turbines that reminds me of those relentlessly forward-marching hammers.

Anyway, as we drove through this area, the SJ-410's engine was really straining. The wind blows in an Easterly direction, and we were driving West on the freeway. Even with the gas pedal floored, the car would not go above 40 mph. Although this was frustrating, it made sense and we weren't too worried about it because the top speed on the speedometer was about 80 mph, and we were facing at least a 40 mph headwind. Many people communicated with us by honking and waving and showing us their middle fingers. I think this is some sort of friendly driver code for "it would be ok with me if you drove a little faster." Or maybe it meant "Get off the road with that stupid lawn mower you f-ing idiots!" One of those.

Many hours later we stopped in a small town about an hour south of SF for gas. After filling the tank, the car would not start. Hmmmm. Strange. Let's try that again....

Still won't start. Very strange..... Again? No. Again? No. Again? .... you get the idea. (What is it that makes us think that after we have tried 38 times to start the car, it will actually start on the 39th try?)

People were starting to communicate with us again -- something like, "it would be ok with us if you moved your car away from the gas tank so we could get in there." Or maybe it was "Move that stupid lawn mower you f-ing idiots!" One of those.

We pushed the car across the street to the service station (the gas station we had stopped at did not have mechanic service), where we ultimately were told that the alternator was dead.

Normally this would not be a problem; they could simply replace the alternator. But I'd like you to remember what kind of car this was. An SJ-410. Have you ever heard of that? Of course you haven't. Well, maybe some of you who live overseas have, but those of you who live here in the US most certainly have not. They were not manufactured for sale in this country. My husband had bought it used from the Suzuki/Jeep dealer, who had taken it in trade from someone who had brought it back with him when he came home after military service.

The mechanic said he had called the manufacturer, and they could ship us a new alternator from Japan, which would cost something like $500 (plus labor for installation) and would take two weeks to arrive. Or he could charge the battery for us, and we could hope we had enough "juice" to make it to SF, where perhaps another service station might maybe have one in stock or be able to obtain one faster, or where we could perhaps buy a real car instead of continuing to drive a lawn mower. Not having two weeks to hang out in a podunk town in California, we took option "B."

They charged the battery for an hour, and we drove North toward SF. 45 minutes later, as we approached SF, it was getting dark and, as often happens in SF, it began to rain. We had no lights and no windshield wipers, and the car was starting to sputter and die, so the freeway began to seem like a bad idea. We pulled off at an exit ramp about 3 miles from our hotel. The car died at the bottom of the exit ramp. Oy!

Across the street was a AAA truck jump-starting another car that had died on the frontage road. Being a AAA member, I walked across and, after much arguing with the man that we should not have to walk 2 miles to a pay phone (this was before cell phones were ubiquitous) and then wait 2 hours for it to be "our turn" for a AAA truck, when he was only approximately 100 feet from my car right now, I convinced the man to drive across the street and jump-start my car, too.

We drove another couple of miles or so, then the car died at a stop light as we waited to turn left. We pushed it on around the corner and into a parking space in front of a large building. We walked the remaining half mile or so to our hotel, pulling our luggage in the light rain, checked in, had some dinner and drinks, and went to bed.

The next day, we returned to the car in the morning to try to figure out what to do about it. We figured we'd try to start it another 38 times or so, then call AAA again. Well, it turned out that it was parked right in front of the AAA of California headquarters building. Woo hoo! Things were looking up already.

We walked inside and explained our dead car dilemma, they had it towed to a nearby service station, and the mechanics there said they could rebuild the alternator for us for about $150 in about 5 days – exactly the amount of time we were planning to be in SF. Given that parking at the hotel was $25 per day, and we wouldn't have to pay that for the 5 days, we figured it was not a bad deal at all.

I consider this my luckiest car-breakdown story ever. We didn't have to worry about the car at the hotel, and we paid about the same to fix the car as we would have paid to park it for 5 days. We certainly did not need the car in SF with its fantastic mass-transit system and pedestrian-friendly tourist areas. We had a blast in SF for 5 days. The mechanics were true to their word and had the car ready for us when it was time to check out of our hotel for the drive home. And they did a good job. My husband had the car for several years after that, and never had another trouble with that alternator.

Fancy Schmancy, I hope your car troubles will melt away as easily as mine did that charmed week in SF.

Seriously Funny Stuff and a Haunted Ship

We interrupt today's regularly-scheduled program to bring you this special announcement:

I was clicking around the internet this morning and found this (reminiscent of a Seinfeld episode) via a link from today's post from Ramblings of a Green Yogurt (an excellent blogger in her own right). I love this new discovery. This guy, Simon Metz, is seriously funny, rivaling even the famous, award-winning blogger from West Chester, Dr. Zibbs for laugh-out-loud hilarity, although in a slightly different sort of way.

If you haven't already discovered Mr. Metz, you should go there right now and read a few of his posts.

Go ahead, I'll wait.

. . . . .

Oh, good, you came back! I was a little afraid you'd abandon me entirely once you found him.

Now for our previously scheduled program:

A few family vacations ago, after spending a couple of weeks at the beach in California, we decided to add a couple of extra days to our planned itinerary and we booked a room on the Queen Mary in Long Beach, California.

As you may (or may not) know, the Queen Mary is an old cruise ship, a steamer, that was converted to military use during WWII, and was used to transport troops. After WWII, she was put back into service as a luxury cruise ship, even carrying the Queen Mother in 1954.

In her time, she was one of the fastest ships around, which was why she was such a great choice for transporting troops -- her speed kept them safe from potential attackers. She held records for "fastest Atlantic crossing" for many years, up to the 1960's, shortly before she was decommissioned as a cruise ship. She was longer than the Titanic. Heavier, too. And apparently sturdier, as she lasted for over 1000 trans-Atlantic voyages, while the Titanic sank during its maiden voyage. (Then again, the Queen Mary didn't run into any icebergs as far as I know, so there's no way to know whether she would have survived such an encounter.)

In 1967, however, her cruising days ended and she was sold to the City of Long Beach, California, for $3.45 million. In December that year, she made her last ocean voyage, to Long Beach -- and has been docked there ever since.

The City of Long Beach runs the Queen Mary as a tourist attraction. You can book a room there, much as you would at a hotel, and enjoy the luxurious accommodations of an early to mid-twentieth century cruise liner. The plumbing was quaint, but functional. The furniture was sturdy and old (vintage, I guess you'd say). It was fun to walk around the ship and see the historical displays and read about the ship's history. The kids enjoyed it, we enjoyed it -- all in all, it was good family fun.

Quick side note for those of you familiar with the Queen Mary / Spruce Goose combo tickets they used to sell in the '80's: The Spruce Goose (originally built by Howard Hughes, as outlined in the 2004 movie The Aviator, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, who also starred in the 1997 film Titanic) has been moved to Oregon.

Sadly, while the Queen Mary was serving as a troop transport ship during WWII, she was involved in an accident in which she accidentally ran over one of her escort ships, slicing it in two, and causing the death by drowning of (I believe) all 300 soldiers on board the smaller vessel as well as some folks on board the main ship. The Queen Mary was damaged, too, but was later repaired. Because of this incident, they claim, the Queen Mary is haunted.

For a small admission fee, you can take the "Ghosts and Legends" tour, during which they promise you will learn about (and maybe see) the ghosts aboard the ship. They have a sign posted warning that people who have high blood pressure, heart conditions, or who are pregnant may want to avoid this tour. My husband read the sign and cheerfully said, "Woo hoo! This'll scare the baby out of a pregnant lady! Sign me up!!"


So we bought our tickets, waited a short while in line, and began our tour -- complete with creepy tour guide escorts who stare grimly and refuse to speak.

Did I mention that the City of Long Beach runs the Queen Mary as a tourist attraction? Because this tour was all cheesy tourist kitsch, bad video and flashing lights, melodramatic sound effects, and things that suddenly go "boo" -- rather like the fake haunted houses that spring up like pumpkin vines every year around Halloween.

You start the tour in a room where you watch a video (a little like the "Twilight Zone" video at the beginning of the haunted hotel ride at Disneyland) that tells you the history of the crash and the hauntings. It was actually an interesting video, with good historical information. It did set the scene well, too -- after the video I was ready to be scared. Then it's down to the bowels of the ship to see the ghosts. They take you past the first class pool, and through the boiler room, and past some bunks, showing you "ghosts" along the way. They tell you about a boiler room accident that caused some deaths and then, predictably, the lights dim and the pipes start shaking and you hear noises like water hissing and boiling, and the tour guide warns that the pipes might burst -- it is almost funny, it's so cheesy, and indeed I heard a couple of people chuckling.

Truly, I think people with heart problems, high blood pressure, and pregnancy would probably have been just fine... But my little guy, who at the time was 3 years old, was actually scared by it all. Halfway through, he demanded that I carry him. He buried his head on my shoulder every time the lights went down or started flashing. He hugged tight around my neck every time strange noises were heard. He repeated, over and over, "I'm scared mommy." "Can we leave now?" I almost felt bad for bringing him along. I hugged him back, and reassured him we would be fine, and that daddy and I would keep him safe.

At the end of the tour, they tell you about the repairs that were made -- or perhaps not made very well -- to the Queen Mary after the incident in which she ran over the escort ship. The walls then shake a bit, and water sprays into the room, and you are told to evacuate quickly! So you all pile into the elevator for the trip back up to the exit room. The tour guide congratulates you on an orderly evacuation.

The lights came on in the elevator. Everyone was standing there, sort of crammed in, smirking at each other and not saying much. Then my little guy pipes up loudly with, "I've seen monsters on Scooby Doo before, and they weren't this scary!!"

So maybe the tour would scare the baby out of a pregnant woman, after all...

My Very First Meme

Last week, Fancy Schmancy tagged me for my first-ever meme! I was oh-so-excited, and felt as though I had "arrived" in the blog world for real. But then my kids got sick and work got hectic and I still haven't done this meme. And now the meme "assignment" is just hanging over my head like a little black cloud. Sort of like my car, but that's a different story altogether.

So today I'm going for it. Kid is still sick, but I've got him parked in front of the tv sipping juice for a while, so here goes.

Oh, and I'm not going to tag anyone else for the memes (sorry, Fancy). I am, instead, adopting -- plagiarizing, even -- Whiskeymarie's approach to memes. I hope she doesn't sue me or anything. The basic idea is that memes are welcome to come here and I will answer their insistent questions, but then afterwards they will be put quietly to rest in the back yard. But without Whiskeymarie's little ceremony. I'm not as "sentimental" as she is, apparently.

Of course, if anyone wants to participate in this meme thing, you are welcome to do so. Just consider yourself tagged merely by having read this here, link away, answer the questions on your blog, and comment here to let me know you've done so. Simple as that!

Fancy's meme was apparently actually two-memes-in-one. I can't resist a bargain, so I said I'd do it. But I'm breaking it back into two memes, to shorten things up (the houses meme will take you a while to read, especially if you click all the links) and also to get two posts for the price of one. (Another bargain!) Today, we'll do meme one - houses. Tomorrow, meme two - random facts about me.

MEME ONE -- HOUSES:

The assignment:

Where would you have your 8 homes, if you were as insanely rich as the McCains? List them.

You don’t have to list your reasons, but if you do at least for a few of them, it would be more fun. And remember that the only rule is: the homes must be within the borders of the United States of America or else, within the borders of the country you live in, so as to utterly emulate the McCains.

When you’re done, tag 8 people, so that they may join in the self-indulgence, forgetting about the crappy property market and the equivalent of The End of Pompeii on Wall-Street. You could spend your time hammering your doors and windows shut in preparation for the apocalypse instead, but it would be much less fun.

The disclaimer (because I wouldn't be a very good attorney if I didn't throw in a disclaimer here and there, now would I?):

Even if I were as insanely rich as the McCains, I don't think I would buy 8 houses. I can think of better things to do with money than buy expensive houses all across the United States. Then again, perhaps it would help the real estate market and the economy, so it might be a good use of the funds after all...

The answer -- if I had to buy 8 houses, all in the United States, they would be in the following places:

1. Coronado, California (actually, one of McCain's houses is here, too).

Although dubbed "Coronado Island," it's not actually an island, but a peninsula. Regardless, it has some of the most beautiful homes on earth, and the beach near the Hotel Del Coronado is one of the hugest white-sand beaches I've ever seen. Simply awesome. You can see photos of it here. There are also several beautiful, large parks for the kids (and adult kids-at-heart) to play in. It is a short drive over the bridge, or a short ferry ride across the water (bikes welcome on board), to downtown San Diego, easily one of the top 8 most awesome cities in the world.

I don't seem to have any digital photos of Coronado; they must be on my husband's computer. But here is a link to Coronado's official website; they have lots of photos there if you are interested.

One of my fondest memories of Coronado was a trip my husband and I took there shortly after the tsunami hit Indonesia in 2004. We were dining at a restaurant. The waiter had just dropped off the wine and appetizers, and the following conversation occurred:

Waiter: Um, I just thought you might like to know, there's a tsunami warning for the area.

LegalMist: Oh wow. Does that mean they are actually expecting one or they are just watching and will let us know if something develops?

Waiter: I don't really know.

LegalMist: What is the plan if there is one, I mean, should we get in our car and drive to San Diego, or do we go stand on the roof, or what?

Waiter: (Look of concern and worry) Hmm.... I don't really know. (Big Smile) Oh well, enjoy your meal!

And off he went, smiling and humming to himself.

It is exactly that carefree attitude that I love about Coronado. It is as if the people know they are living in heaven on earth, so who cares if there is no tomorrow? Just enjoy today!


2. San Francisco, California.

Mark Twain has been quoted as saying that the coldest winter he ever endured was the summer he spent in San Francisco (or words to that effect). Nevertheless, I find San Francisco to be easily one of the most charming big cities ever, and the weather is just part of its charm. Quaint townhouses, awesome skyscrapers, bustling Chinatown, pretty parks, excellent transit system (including the historic and wonderfully fun cable cars), beautiful bay and bridges, endless museums and other amusements, home of the Grateful Dead.... the list goes on. I could happily live and die there, if only I could afford the real estate.



Okay, I know it seems unfair to put two of my houses in the same state, but they are two of my favorite U.S. cities.

In fact, I almost completely copped out and made city number three San Clemente, CA, which also ranks near the top of my "all time favorite places to be" list. But then I decided that if the "big one" ever hits California, I'd hate to lose 3 of my 8 houses, and also for investment purposes it would be better to diversify.

3. Flagstaff, Arizona.

A quaint town in the mountains of Arizona, with a fun revitalized downtown area near the university (Northern Arizona University), beautiful and historical old homes (a rarity in Arizona, where most everything is new new new), pretty tree-lined streets, and a sense of history. Flagstaff is half an hour from Sedona, Arizona, which is easily the most beautiful place on earth, but rather too hot in the summer so Flagstaff would be a better place to live.

4. Pensacola, Florida.

I know this isn't most folks' ideal city, what with the hurricanes, crime issues, and so forth, but my grandparents lived there when I was a kid, and they had the most fabulous house ever, which is the specific house I would buy there if I could. It was a two story brick house with a basement where they kept the bumper pool table. I still remember the exact address, and I have found it on Google Maps, so I know it is still there even today. Here is a picture of the exact house I would buy:



Not the best image, I know. It was originally taken with a polaroid camera (anyone remember those? They were the pre-digital-age "have to see my photo now" camera), and the photo has become yellowed with age, then was copied on my low-end color copier, and scanned into my "blogging" computer so I could post it here for all three of you to enjoy. I hope it was worth it.

That's me, standing in front of the house with my bike, circa 1971. I think I was a little old for training wheels, don't you? I loved that bike, though, with the fashionable red "banana seat" and the groovy red fringe hanging from the handle bars. Later that summer, my grandparents bought me one of those red flags on a very tall skinny plastic stick that you attach to the back of kids' bikes so people in cars can see them and won't run over them, and then I really thought I was hot stuff. Dig the pants, too. So very.... seventies.

I remember the house as being huge (although I was probably about 10 when they sold it, so probably it would seem smaller now), with very high ceilings (probably cost a fortune to heat and cool), a huge kitchen, formal dining room, sunken living room, marble-tiled entry way, home office with a separate entrance for my grandpa's insurance business, awesome (and fun) giant formal staircase with a big landing that we kids loved to play on, a huge master bedroom suite and two other large bedrooms upstairs, an attic, and a separate garage with a huge "rec room" (including ping pong table) above it.

My mom used to ship me off to stay with my grandparents in Pensacola for at least a couple of weeks every summer, and I had absolutely the best time there with my cousins and uncles and grandparents. My grandmother had a flair for decorating, so the house was beautiful and always looked "grand." I thought my grandparents were the richest people ever (until I met my friend Jennifer Goldstein, but that's another story entirely). Best of all, the house was a short drive away (half an hour, maybe?) from an awesome beach, with white sand, an excellent assortment of sea shells, and great big (to my 5 to 10 year old self) waves. I still have not forgiven my grandparents for selling that house and moving to a smallish condo in a highrise in Atlanta, GA.

If I am ever "Cindy McCain rich," I will own that house.


5. New York, NY

I've never even been there and I have no photos to share with you for this one. I drove through it once, on the way to visit a friend in Boston, but I have never stayed there. But I can't imagine owning 8 houses across the U.S. and not having one of them be in New York City.


6. Charlottesville, VA

This is another awesome university town. It is near the blue ridge mountains (great hiking, beautiful scenery) and just over a two hour drive to our nation's Capital, or (slightly different direction) to the beach in the Norfolk / Hampton area. Thomas Jefferson lived near here, at Monticello, and our fifth president, James Monroe's Ash Lawn estate is here, too. If I could afford to buy an estate like these, I would.


7. Columbia, SC

Another adorably quaint town with awesome houses with hardwood floors, fireplaces, arched doorways and ancient plumbing, curvy-hilly-tree-lined streets, a sense of history, decent weather, and enough fun stuff to do that I wouldn't be bored out of my skull. And although South Carolina has sort of a racist reputation (some of which may be deserved), my best friend who I have known since I was about 3 years old lives in this town. We have kept in touch even through all of our families' various moves which started when we were both about 8 years old. When we get together it is like we still live just down the street from each other and we just pick up where we left off yesterday. So yeah, I'd buy a house there just down the street from her so I could visit her at least once a year and stay a while.

Here is a photo I found on flickr of an old historical house in Columbia SC. The house I'd buy there, however, would be brick, on a larger lot, and surrounded by huge trees.


8. I feel like quite the copy-cat, here, even though I am modifying Fancy's idea a bit. Instead of a houseboat, I'd buy an RV, perhaps something like this one, by Fleetwood. That way, I could explore America's vast interior, visit all the states I've never visited before, and re-live my bus-driving glory days all at once. Nothing like sitting up high in a huge vehicle with ten plus tons of "right of way," cruising the open highway on a beautiful sunny day..... aaahhh, the good old days.

Rattlesnake Bridge

My awesome Dad and Stepmom brought my 7 year old nephew - my (step)sister's kid - to visit us recently. My nephew had read about a "Rattlesnake Bridge" in Tucson, Arizona. He had seen photos of it in his "Highlights" magazine, and wanted to see it in person. He had told his whole class he was going to visit Arizona, and that he was hoping to see this Rattlesnake Bridge. Since it's only a few hours from where we live, I agreed to drive him (and my Dad and Stepmom, along with my two kids) to Tucson to see the world-famous Rattlesnake Bridge.

Last summer we visited the natural bridge at Tonto Creek near Payson, Arizona. It is a very cool bridge formed by water eroding the rock and dirt through the mountains in Northern Arizona. You can walk over the bridge, and then walk down a path and climb around on the huge rocks under the bridge by the creek. If you have not been there before, you should go. It is beautiful, and is a nice, but not too difficult, hike.

So, I was all excited for a nice but hopefully not too difficult hike with the kids & grandparents through the pretty mountains near Tucson, perhaps a picnic lunch near a mountain stream, some cool photo ops near the natural bridge....


We packed up some sandwiches, drinks, trail mix and other snacks. I got directions from MapQuest, and off we went. After a couple of hours, a near collision on the freeway, and a couple of missed turns while we looked for a place to park, we arrived at our destination.

Here is a photo of the head of the "Rattlesnake Bridge" in Tucson, Arizona.







You can see the snake's eye in this photo. You can also see that it is, in actuality, a pedestrian walkover bridge.

Here is a photo of the road below, from "inside" the snake's belly:

Here is a photo of the butt end of the bridge. At the very top, left side of the bridge in the photo below you can see the box that holds the sensor and speaker -- the sensor activates a recording of a rattlesnake "rattle" sound when you walk through it. Oooh, scary!








Here is a photo of the giant rattle at the end of the rattlesnake's tail, which sticks out of the ground on the "butt" end of the bridge:





I did not hear about it at the time, but there was apparently quite a bit of controversy when this bridge was built in Tucon, as there always is for any public art project. On the one hand, it is clearly much more awesome and more fun than a plain old rectangular shaped, fenced-in pedestrian bridge. (That fact alone is guaranteed to send some folks into a tizzy.) On the other hand, what exactly does it mean to walk in through the snake's mouth and walk out through its butt? Are we supposed to have been "eaten" by the snake and then excreted as snake feces? What does this say about the artist's understanding of human nature? About our place in this world? About our ultimate destiny?


The kids were not interested in pondering the bigger implications of humans as snake feces, however. All in all, this was very much like Chevy Chase's trip to the Grand Canyon, in the movie "Vacation." You drive for hours, then look at it and say, "yup, there it is," and then get back in the car....

We decided that as long as we were in Tucson, we should go see some other area attractions. So we checked out the Pima Air and Space Museum. It has an airplane that held the record for "world's smallest actual working airplane," or something like that. The plane was about 3 feet tall and maybe 3 feet long, painted yellow and black, and named the "Bumble Bee." It had room for one smallish person to fit inside it, and it claimed to actually have been flown.


The Pima Air and Space Museum also has a huge yard filled with all sorts of historical aircraft, including the actual Air Force One plane used by Presidents Kennedy and Johnson. Very cool. Here is a photo of the very old and now retired Air Force One:







The Pima Air and Space Museum is near the "boneyard" where hundreds, perhaps thousands, of old, no-longer-used airplanes -- both civilian and military -- are parked in the middle of the Arizona desert near Tucson. It is amazing to see so many old military airplanes just parked out there in plain view. Makes you wonder whether they are real, or are just decoys designed to fool our enemies when they look at their satellite photos of these "military" aircraft. Surely there must be satellites floating up there, photographing every little detail of these old aircraft.


We also visited "Old Tucson Studios," which has been the site for filming many movies, as well as parts of the old "Little House on the Prairie" tv show. It burned a few years ago and has been rebuilt. By the time we got there, it was about to close for the day so we didn't get to see all of it, but we did get to watch a genuine re-enactment of an old-time Western shootout and pan for a little "gold."


All in all, it was a great day. Much more exciting than those giant concrete dinosaurs we visited last summer in California.