Traveling With Kids – San Diego Seaworld – Showtime

Posted on April 21, 2014 by Joe Cummings

Splish-Splash

IMG_3605“The Whales Fly”

Seeing Seaworld is as much about balancing off what you do between the shows as anything. Like a hyper intermission filled with madly running around and screaming and water and sharks. But there are set times that the dolphins or killer whales come out to play. Crowds gather. Good seats are taken. Snack vendors magically appear. So we had to get there on time.

First up, the famous whale show. The Shamu Show. Apparently, that’s just the name of the show as none of the killer whales, (and there are 10 of them), are actually called Shamu. Sort of like the how Dread Pirate Roberts name just got transfered from pirate to pirate to handsome, farmer in love with a pretty girl.

Besides, who would go see a show named the Corky show? I would expect puppets and a guest appearance by Tom Hanks. So there’s a good reason they kept the name.

We decided to see the main show. There were other options. Shamu up and close. Dine with Shamu. Swim with Shamu and see if you can avoid getting eaten. All of these things seemed like a bad idea. They’re not called cuddle whales. So, yeah, main show.

We sat up high so as not to get splashed. They had the splash zones clearly marked, and not only marked, but the park guides told everyone coming in that the splash zones were, well, very splashy. Then, later, they made an announcement. Three in fact. If you’re in the splash zones, you’ll get wet.

For some reason, this came as a big surprise to some people. I think it’s the same idiots who put a hot cup of coffee in their lap and when it spills scalding hot liquid on their family jewels, sue everyone in sight.

IMG_0448 (800x600)Anyway, we were safe. Safer than safe. We were rows and rows away from the last splash zone set of seats. So high up that the air was thin and I think we could have touched the sky. I told the oldest we could and he gave me that look again. Like I’m having a stroke.

Now, let me ask you. Was the youngest more excited about the whales or the fact he could get cotton candy? You probably know the answer. However, the oldest was very concerned that the whales might not be treated properly as much as anything and wasn’t entirely convinced these animals should be in a tank giving performances.

One of these things I could solve. I got the youngest cotton candy. The other, well, harder to solve. He may be right. But these animals are treated well, they don’t have to worry about starving to death and the trainers really love them. I hoped to open up a bit of conversation about the whales, but it died as the show began.

The announcer asked the crowd to thank all the veterans in the crowd. For them to stand.

Being me and completely mishearing what was said, I stood.  Me and about 50 other men (and a few women).

This was odd, thought I.  Shouldn’t more be standing to salute the soldiers and sailors and airmen and marines?

The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world tugged on my shirt. “What’re you doing?”

“Applauding the servicemen and women.”

“You only stand if you’re one of them.”

Oh hell!

I don’t think I ever sat down so fast.

I felt so embarrassed.

Then the show started. The whales began by circling the tank, jumping in the air, then soaking everyone. I mean, SOAKING them. Like the teenagers at legoland had done. I feared they were out to soak me for pretending to be a serviceman.

IMG_0486 (800x600)Howevrer, more than a few people, somehow shocked that sitting so close to the tank would get them wet, ran for their lives like they were being sprayed with acid. Others, those that knew what to expect, laughed and giggled and shouted as water cascaded on top of them. Even a few adults.

Personally, I think the whales like this part. Personally I think they’re hoping the chubby, red-haired kid who threw a hot dog in the water will be splashed into the tank so they could take him for a long dive underwater.

Yes, some people are jerks, some kids in need of serious parental supervision, but by and large, we’re all well-behaved. We clap when we should clap. We go oooooh and awe when it’s appropriate. We eat lots of snacks that cost as much as a dinner at Denny’s.

I love seeing the whales, though. They are magnificent creatures. The youngest stops tearing at his cotton candy to watch them. The oldest seems to be looking at them to make sure they’re not being abused in any way. The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world hugs them both while pointing out the best tricks.

IMG_3583 (800x450)When it’s over, I half expect the whale, at some point, to pull himself out of the water and shout, are you not entertained?

But no.

Nothing bad happens. No one is eaten. None of the whales are hurt or abused. No one drowns. One camera may be a write-off after being soaked, but we’re all good.

We are entertained.

And maybe, just maybe, we’re all more connected to another living creature. Maybe we’ll think about them when someone brings up drift nets or oil spills or harvesting them for whatever parts we think we may need.

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Traveling With Kids – San Diego Seaworld – Flash Adventures

Posted on April 20, 2014 by Joe Cummings

 How Many Adventures Can We Have in A Few Hours?

When there is so much to do and so many adventures, how do talk about all of them without boring everyone to death?

Answer, you can’t.

But let me summarize as best I can. Like a quick montage in a movie. Or remembering a drunken night.

The First Ride

The First Ride

After the seals, the boys go on the octopus-like ride. No lines. They literally run on. Twice.

Giggles are heard. Oldest loves every minute of it. Youngest not wanting to show he is a bit, you know, not scared, totally not scare, nuh-huh, nope.

Sharks!!!!

Sharks!!!!

Flash to the shark tanks. Sharks! There’s an upstairs where you can see the sharks in the pool. It smells very salty and fishie. No big surprise, I guess. The oldest knows more about sharks than the guides. He explains how to spot a tiger shark from a reef shark, what the difference is between a white tip and a black tip shark (you may be able to guess this one,) and what food they should be feeding all of them (and surprisingly it’s not ‘his brother’.) It’s really impressive.

IMG_0389 (800x600)A walkway leads down below. It’s dark. The walls look like clay. The walls have teeth in them. The oldest LOVES the teeth embedded in the wall. Especially the megalodon teeth. He forgets to hide the fact that he’s having fun. He smiles and talks about the teeth with animated authority.

Then we’re deep underwater. It’s dark. There’s a moving sidewalk that doesn’t move. No need. Not a lot of people here. The youngest, with eyes wide and mouth open, gets to walk through a tunnel while shark glide by overhead and beside him. He stops, transfixed as entire tour groups try to move around him. The oldest explains to me why one shark can be still and not die. I’d heard that if I shark stops moving, it suffocates. Not so.

None of the sharks attack. I am disappointed. The boys could have spent hours in that tunnel. The want to be sharks. They want one as a pet. The oldest wants to genetically engineer one that will talk with him.

IMG_0397 (800x600)I ask the oldest if he wants to take pictures for his dad. He’s not interested in taking pictures, in creating a visual history, (that’s my thing), but the idea sparks something in him. He loves doing things for others. So… pictures for his dad, a great idea. First, about 20 shark pictures. The, he wants one of him and his brother in front of, yes, you guessed it the megalodon.

Then to turtles. Not as menacing as sharks. A big slower. An old one has a huge bite out of his shell. I wonder what story he would tell. I ask the oldest if the turtle maybe swam into the shark tank. He looks at me like I’m having a stroke.

IMG_0423 (800x599)The youngest wants to take pictures of the turtles for his dad. He takes, well, about a thousand. Most, but not all, blurry. It’s hard to shoot in low light, harder still when you’re literally running around, and even harder when you refuse to listen to a wise new parent who has all sorts of great advice on how to take good pictures (even if, he himself, is completely unable to do so.)

The turtles are cute. But slow = boring. However, just as we are about to leave, we find a video game. We play small turtles trying to make their way to spawn on a beach. Evil, massive drift nets, oil pollution and sharks!!!! Try to stop us. We dive, we swim fast, we shoot upwards, at least one of us is eaten, at least one of us is captured by a drift net, but a few, a lucky few, make it to the end. The youngest spawns the most. For some reason, this does not surprise me. I expect this will be his future. 10 crazy-ass little ones of his own. Ha!

Outside, we wander past strollers lined up like soldiers on parade. Double strollers, umbrella strollers, high tech strollers with radar (or something that looked like it), strollers with coffee holders (oh what a good idea that is) and strollers with bags of diapers and wetwipes and toys and blankets. I’m glad, super glad, that I’ve entered this family at this point in the boys’ life. Stroller-aged kids look like a LOT more work. Plus, you know, strollers!

Now, if I was being wheeled around in one, that would be a whole different matter.

IMG_2194 (598x800)We go on to feel up manta rays in a pool.  I ask, what do they feel like? “They feel soft”, says the oldest. “They feel all raspy and rough,” says the youngest. Sometimes I think if you asked them what color the sky was, one would say blue and the other would say, white.

The youngest measures himself against a full grown ray. I refuse, having seen how close I am to a gorilla.

We eat almost too late. Everyone is getting the hangries. Hunger plus angry. Not a word I invented, but one I will promote. HANGRIES. We line up. We wait. We eat. No one is murdered despite the fact we have to wait a wee bit for fish and chips

Sitting down, that evil red-eyed bird appears and keeps an eye on the oldest. He’s sure it’s been stalking him. I can’t say he was wrong. I was kinda spooky. The oldest eats his food in record time.

But the real treats were yet to come.

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Traveling With Kids – San Diego Seaworld – The Great Fish Throw

Posted on April 19, 2014 by Joe Cummings

Fishie Adventures

Seaworld looked like it would be fun the moment we went inside, but would it live up to the hype?

See, you can touch the sharks

We stood in the entranceway a bit like a pack of deer in the headlights. So many things to do, and so many little feet wanting to run in every direction at once.

But it was a glorious morning. Sunny. A bit windy. Birds flew overhead looking for dropped crumbs. Kids shrieked in excitement. Mom’s yelled at their unruly ones to be less, well, unruly.

Now, one thing we decided to do in every park we’ve seen is set a rally point. You know, in case we become separated for some strange reason. You’d think becoming separated would be hard, at least I did, but all it takes is for eyes to lock on something, feet to move in a direction that is not the family direction and if everyone else is looking at their own stuff and continuing on, whammo, bingo-bongo, someone’s not there.

Sadly, that someone is usually me.

Oh, I know you were thinking it would be the youngest, but no, it’s me. One minute I’m all marching alongside everyone, then the next, “squirrel!” and off I go.

So today we chose the big-ass tower thingee, called the skytower. It’s hard to miss. It’s a tower.

seaworldsd2008mapThat set, we decided on a ride first. We had a map. We had food in our bellies. We were good to go.

First distraction.  We needed sunglasses.

We’d lost only one pair so far, which, I think, is a world record for a family of 4, so we decided that the first thing we’d do is go in search of new ones. The youngest found a barrel of swords (why swords would be in seaworld, I have no idea) and hacked and slashed imaginary enemies while I made sure he didn’t hack OR slashed any real people. But we failed to find any sunglasses at first.

Hard to believe, I know. There were plastic sharks and t-shirts and knacks and knicks and shoes and glass balls that the youngest desperately wanted to touch (and, I fear, throw at his brother), but no sunglasses.

No worries, there were plenty of little shops in Seaworld, so we began to march again towards the first ride…

Only to get distracted again by sharks in a pool. That we could touch. Wee little ones. I think I said, OMG, look, sharks we can touch in a pool!!! Luckily, everyone came with me. But, unluckily, none of us got to touch one. They were too fast, too far away sometimes and at least one of us, not mentioning any names, was pretty sure the sharks would take a bite out of them.

A little disappointed, the boys got bored really quickly, so we left the sharks to eat other little children and strode off.

We made our way to a ride first. A simple one. Sort of like the old octopus rides we’d go on a local fairs.

The park had wide lanes, unlike legoland, and though every park seems to be unable to make a straight line to anything, the lack of crowds, the massive space we could walk around in, made it feel, I dunno, more friendly. Maybe it was the sun being out, or the smell of popcorn and hotdogs and something fishie. Maybe it was just that I had pancakes for breakfast. Who knows?

But as we made our way to the first ride, we heard barking.

Seals!!!Seals!

I immediately went all ‘squirrel!” and detoured towards them. The family heard me shout, “Seals!” and followed me. It was feeding time and the seals were barking or slapping the water or just looking darned adorable, waiting to be fed.

But here’s the cool thing. It wasn’t the trainers feeding them. It was the seaworld-goers. Us.

I dunno who started to jump up and down first, me or the youngest. We had to feed the seals! We had to.

So I went and bought two orders of fish please, hold the fries and tarter sauce. For $5 we got 5 little fish. I wanna say they were sardines, but I know about as much about fish as I know about why people like watching golf. The oldest, however, had no desire to throw anything and the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world, refused to wander around smelling like fish all day.

The youngest and I didn’t care. We love throwing things and, to be honest, we don’t care that we would smell like fish.

IMG_0349 (800x600) (2)We looked at the seals, chose one that looked the cutest, bobbing up and down in the water, his big eyes on us, his head wagging back and forth like a happy, puppy dog tail, and the youngest tossed him a fish. We chose one who was barking, one who was clapping and tried to throw one who had a great scar on his eye who sat on a rock in the middle of the pool. The youngest missed his first throw, the fish snapped up by a smart seal who circled the rock waiting for people to miss. The second throw missed too and I began to worry the youngest didn’t have the coordination or strength yet to make the throw.

Hey, it wasn’t easy for a little guy. He  had to clear the glass, had to arc it over all the other seals, avoid the fish-stealing birds and hit a pretty small target 15 feet away.

I gave the youngest my fish. I told him he could do it. I told him to keep his eye on the seal. Don’t worry about the glass or the distance. Just see that seal and throw the fish.

The youngest threw with all his might and with the seriousness of a major league pitcher. I want to say the entire crowd watched, but I doubt that was true. Certainly the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world and the oldest watched the fish arc over the glass, soar through the air and nearly smack the seal in the face before he jerked his head and gulped it down.

We cheered.

The last fish he gave based on which one barked the loudest, then we washed up, washed up again for good measure, and strode off to the first ride, the youngest so happy to tell us how he did it.

“Joe, did you know that if I got my arm all the way back and threw, it went farther?”

“Mommy, did you see me feed that seal with the one eye?”

“Joe, did you know I did the best throw there?”

It was a great way to start our adventure in Seaworld.

It was, however, nowhere near the coolest thing we did.

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Traveling With Kids – San Diego – Seaworld – An Odd Entrance

Posted on April 18, 2014 by Joe Cummings

They Even Made Getting In Interesting

IMG_0608With good weather so rare, we decided we had to go to SeaWorld, right? There would be water there, I’m pretty sure. Some splashing. Maybe some wet rides. All good things on a warm, sunny day.

The only question was, how long would it last? The sun, that is.

We parked in the preferred space cuz I like to feel special. The guy who took my parking money told me to put on my flashing lights so the parking attendants would know I’m special. Good, because when I drive 50 min with my flashing lights on at home, everyone pretty much assumes I’m special as well. It’s why they honk at me.

Anyway, when he said it, I had no idea where the flashing light thingee was in the car. I must have looked at him with a mixture of confusion and terror that sometimes gets misinterpreted as constipation. But in this case, he knew the problem immediately and pointed to the button in the center of my dashboard. I wouldn’t have been able to find it if they said they’d shoot one of the kids if I didn’t. But he found it right away. I guess he knows his Galants.

So I drove through the parking lot with my flashing lights on thinking it may be some kind of joke.

It wasn’t.

We parked right beside all the handicap spots. In ‘the special’ spots.

Hmmm.

IMG_0340We got out, warm sun on our faces, and went to stand in line to have our bags searched. Detecting no bombs, alcohol or non-organic, fair trade coffee grown on the shady sides of mountains in politically incorrect countries, we were let through.

Then we came to the gate. Now, normally, you hand someone your pass or, in my case, the printed tickets, and they take care of everything. Why? Cuz they kinda, usually, know what they’re doing.

Not here. We had to scan the tickets ourselves which everyone seemed to have a problem with so the attendant would usually take over and scan it for us. Then we had to have our fingers scanned.

Why? I’m not sure. If someone stole Shamu did they want a record of the finger prints? Or were they looking for certain people like pedifiles or people who littered? Or was it a way of matching up missing people.

Either way, it was odd and took a long time.

Basically here’s what happened. We came up. Looked at the attendant, expecting him to take the tickets. He pointed to the scanner. Oh, says I, we have to do this our selves. I see. (Sometimes I can be captain obvious.) So I try to scan the ticket. It fails to be read. I try again. The little red light does not turn into a little green light. So I try again. Fail. The attendant takes the ticket and scans it. First time.

Then I go to scan the second one but wait, there’s a message that says I have to press finger on finger pad.

What finger pad?

I look and see it and put my finger on it like anyone who’s told to do something by an electronic message kinda just does it.

Nothing.

I move my finger around until another little red light goes green.

This process is repeated three more times, though the youngest did not have to have his finger scanned. Silly them, if they had to worry about anyone jumping in the shark tank or wanting to ride a turtle, it would be him. I suspect in years to come, he will be on many ‘banned’ lists.

Everyone kinda photobombed this one.

Everyone kinda photobombed this one.

But we got it done about as fast as everyone else which is to say, not fast at all. There weren’t massive crowds, but I just know that when they come and come they will, I think that whole process will be a nightmare. Better to have someone take the tickets, grab you finger, jam it into the finger scanner and have you on your way.

Just my thoughts.

No matter, really.

We were in.

Now what to do first?

 

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Traveling With Kids – San Diego – IHOP Super Powers

Posted on April 17, 2014 by Joe Cummings

Breakfast of Champions and Super Heroes.

There was something odd in the sky today. Kinda round. Yellow-orange. Surrounded by blue sky. I think primitive cultures called it the sun. It was not something I have seen for a while in San Diego.

That made it a perfect day for Seaworld.

But first, remember the #1 rule? Food!!!IMG_0339

So we went to eat at IHOP.

It isn’t as easy to find a place to eat with the boys in tow. Or cheap. If there’s a place that offers kids eat free or kids will be made to wash dishes if they don’t eat what they order, then I’m so there. As it was, we thought the IHOP would be a safe bet.

It was.

The boys got to choose if they wanted pancakes, how their eggs were cooked, if they wanted sausages or bacon, if they wanted brown bread or white, if they wanted juice or milk. Now it’s not like they couldn’t have starbucksdone that at the other restaurants, but here it was easy to point on the menu while the waitress took notes. The loved the power. Soon they’ll be at starbucks ordering a drink, “grande skinny half soy, half skim, iced half mocha, half green tea, no ice, double whip, caramel topping in a ventii cup.”

One of the coolest things about eating here (or not, depending on your POV), was that they put a calorie count on all the food. Pancakes and sausages and 1 cup of syrup was like a billion calories. Who knew?

While we ate, the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world tried to arrange to meet a friend from her childhood, a friend that shared a fence with her for years, who knew her through good times and bad, a friend who she hadn’t seen again for a very long while (aka our spy).

Unfortunately, his family had been battling a cold and it was looking dicey that we would be able to all get together. However, today, it looked like he might get a free moment.

While she tried to connect with him, the boys and I worked on something vital to our existence.

Super powers.

What super powers did we have. Not which ones we wanted, which we had.

super powersThe youngest has the ability for his sleeve to find any spill on the table. Even spills he, himself, did not make.

The oldest has the ability hide all interest in all things. Every so often a smile creeps out, but it’s quickly covered up with a shrug even the French would be proud of.

The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world has the ability to look pretty even at 10am in a pancake house.

I have the ability to make any lineup I’m in the slowest line. Proven time and time and time again.

We came up with other ones like the youngest’s ability to snort milk out his nose if he giggles too much while drinking milk, to the oldest’s ability to be the fastest mouse clicker on the face of the planet.

However, the funniest moment of the morning was when the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world had looked up at me, with a bit of cheese hanging off her lower lip. Being me and being tragically flawed, I laughed. I mean, it looked funny. She still looked pretty, but it was funny.

“I have cheese hanging off my lip, don’t I?” she asked.

I giggled.

She glared at me. “Were you going to tell me?”

“After I finished giggling.”

“So you’d let me walk out with a giant cheese strand dangling from my lip?”

“No. At some point I would have stopped giggling and told you. It might have been in Seaworld though.”

She glared at me.

It looked like we weren’t going to be able to meet her friend, our spy, today.

No matter, it was going to be a great day.

How could it not?

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Traveling With Kids – San Diego – Hilton Doubletree Hotel

Posted on April 17, 2014 by Joe Cummings

How I wake up in My New Life

In my old life, I used to wake up like this…

Actual untouched picture of me in bed.

Actual untouched picture of me in bed.

I’d roll over, look at the clock. It could be 7 or 8. I’d think to myself, self, should I just shut my eyes and go back to sleep or is the day full of so much awesomeness that I have to leap out of bed? Most days, you can guess which choice I made. I’d lie lazily in bed, sometimes sleeping, sometimes in that state that is not quite awake. Sometimes I’d read. Or listen to the news. Or check on facebook. Or see if they’d invented the flying car yet.

By 10, usually, I’d be up. No rush. Just another day in the life of justjoe.

Now, it’s somewhat different.

The youngest pads over to the bed at 7am. “Mommy. My leg doesn’t hurt anymore.”

It’s  very important news for the youngest to deliver. At 7am. Had he waited until, say 8, he might have forgotten to tell us.

My eyes creak open. The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world rolls over. Mumbles something. I do not think she uses a single swear word. I think she says, “Johnny, is that you?”

The youngest pokes his mom. “My leg doesn’t hurt anymore.” Cuz like, clearly, we didn’t hear him the first time.

So, 7am. We’re up. Somehow, some way, the youngest managed to get a burn on his knee. A good burn. But from what? What could be hot enough that we saw yesterday that would give him a burn? (spoiler, we figured out that it was the carpet in the Ripley’s display that he hid in and giggled.) But it was good news that it didn’t hurt.

Splish-splash, baby

Splish-splash, baby

Outside, it’s exactly the opposite of what was predicted. It’s sunny. Who knows how long that’ll last but we’re off to Seaworld. We need to take advantage of the good weather. My guess is Seaworld has water and if I’m going to get wet, I want it to be warm outside. I’m starting to have nightmares about shivering in the cold while teenagers drench me in water.

But there’s a lot of challenges today. I’m behind on my writing. Way behind. I need to crave out time somehow. The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world has caught a cold. Her nose is red. The youngest wants to do water rides. Lots and lots of water rides. He actually has no idea of what rides Seaworld has, but he’s pretty sure there will be splashie ones.  The oldest is wishing meglodon was at Seaworld. He wants to see people eaten, I think.

Since it’ll be a full day, we  try to get out as quickly as possible.

In my old life, it was brush teeth, shave, wet hair down, then style, look at self in mirror and say, “Wow, you do look like Johnny Depp?” then I’d turn on the lights, and head out. 5 mins top. 10 if I had a shower. Now…

Now you’ll hear me saying things, like “Teeth brushing, not toothbrush eating. Hurry up”

“Of course you have to wear underwear.” (And no, I never say this to the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world.)

“Wait, how did you get pizza sauce on a shirt we just bought yesterday?”

“Come on, let’s hurry, let’s get it in gear, let’s get going, vroom, vroom, vroom, we gotta a full day, hurry, hurry, hurry, fast, fast, fast, move it, move it, move it, ah, cutie.”

Ready to go? All parts protected from the sun?

Ready to go? All parts protected from the sun?

It’s a process, let me tell you. Armies move faster than 2 boys getting ready. Glaciers move faster.

But, by 9, we are good to go. Time for breakfast and Seaworld.

Now, in my old life, breakfast would be all….

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Traveling With Kids – San Diego – Coronado Island

Posted on April 16, 2014 by Joe Cummings

The Mystic Pizza

After seeing the Air and Space Museum, it was getting late in the afternoon, but rather than eat at the hotel, we had other ideas.

coronadoWhy not see Coronado Island? Eat there. It has its own flag.

But as we drove there, the boys started going nuts in the car. shouting, fighting, wiping boogers on the seat.

We told the boys not to talk while we navigate.

They start to sing and giggle.

Then we told them to stop singing and giggling and be quiet.

They started bouncing up and down.

An epic headache was building inside my skull.The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world was about to lose her famous zen-like calm. Big time. My left eye was twitching. I was having murderous thoughts.

So, yeah, pulling over was kinda necessary. And we needed to find the perfect spot.

It’s time for food.

Or blood will be shed. Bodies buried. Secrets kept.

So onto Coronado Island we went. In search of a fish and chips place. It just felt like a fish and chips kind of day. The weather had turned nice, our spy had recommended we visit Coronado, and we needed to eat, right?

Epic fail.

coronado shoppingApparently they don’t believe in fish and chips. On this island (which is, in fact, not an island, but whatever,) there are all sorts of super expensive places. Diamond stores. Fancy Italian restaurants with Michelin starred chefs. A world famous hotel. Lots of beachie beachness. But not a fish and chip shop in sight. Or on google.

Very odd.

IMG_0335We drove by lovely neighbourhoods that reminded me of Oak Bay in Victoria. Or Kerrisdale in Vancouver. The homes were all well maintained, many heritage homes with turrets or wraparound porches, some very colorful, some with brilliantly colorful flowerbeds.

church
There was even a beautiful, small, stone church that couldn’t have held more than 10 people inside. There was a world famous resort. There were the coolest bikes I’ve ever seen parked on the sidewalk (check out the spider tires!) There were lots of green spaces, which we used to call parks, filled with families having fun, and of course, beaches and a HUGE naval station.

But no fish and chips place.

However, there were plenty of other options.

We parked and walked to Alexander’s.

IMG_0332Picture this. A hole in the wall pizza shop. Tattooed guys behind the counter. Thrash metal playing on the speakers. A philly – NYR game on the TV. A window full of awards.

The perfect place to take a family, right?

In a tough neighbourhood, we would have moved on, but hey, this was Coronado where I think the pillars holding up the bank’s roof were made of solid gold.

So we gave it a try.

And how did we find it?

I asked a local. After we bought some fancy-smancy sunglasses for the youngest, I asked the owner of the shop.

He gave us the suggestion and directions.

It was a small walk, but the weather was spectacular and the boys needed to burn some energy off. So we ordered and sat down at a well-worn table and tried the pizza.

IMG_0330The adults ate the Mystic Pizza, the boys, a cheese pizza.

Amazing! Lots of toppings, full of flavour, and the best crust I’ve had in a long time.

The little shop had won awards for their pizza, same as the restaurant the first night had done. It was a local favourite. It smelled of warm dough. It had cheap tables and cheaper chairs. The knives and forks were plastic and the plates were paper.

But no one came for the décor. They came for the food.

And it saved us all.

Full tummies equal happiness.

The day ended on a high.

 

 

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Traveling With Kids – San Diego Air and Space Museum – It’s No Ripley’s –

Posted on April 16, 2014 by Joe Cummings

Are You Not Entertained?

IMG_2152The oldest is like the best version of me in a museum. Respectful, reads all the information on a display that interests him, doesn’t touch sh*t he’s not supposed to touch. Like the Prettiest-girl-in-the world. The youngest is like the worst version of me. Giddy at some exhibits, wanting to climb on others, happy to stay with the family until he’s not, until there’s something cool to look at longer than the others would like. Plus, if he gets excited about something, he won’t stop talking about it. Just like me sometimes.

I figured 50/50 that we would make it out before being asked to leave.

I was the first one to crack.

events air and spaceForget all the things I could see… they had a room filled with planes set aside for a special function, planes that I wanted to see. Not that I couldn’t see the planes from the windows, it’s that I hate anything that stops me from doing stuff.

It’s a flaw in my character.

If I see a sign that says do not touch, I desperately want to touch whatever it says I can’t touch. Like at whistler, there was a sign that said do not touch the honet’s nest. Seems like good advice, yet it took every ounce of my self-control not to touch it.

Here it took every ounce of control not to wander into that room filled with people in suits and dresses, planes overhead, chefs in white outfits standing behind their creations, and overly hot-looking waitresses carrying silver plates of tasty-looking yummies. If I’d been alone, I would have likely wandered in there by ‘mistake’ and grabbed a few snacks before I was escorted out of the event.

However, today, I am very respectful of museum rules. Mostly. So I didn’t go in. That and likely the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world would have left me rot in jail.

IMG_0323IMG_2172The youngest, too, was well-behaved. He loved that he could stuff himself in a small plane or climb into the cockpit of a helicopter. He asked all about the WW1 planes (though it could be he didn’t ask at all, maybe I just started going on and on about them and how they flew and fought.)

But he didn’t much care for the rest of it. In fact, much to my horror, no one cared that they had a P51 or Spitefire or F-18. Like right there!

You could even touch it!

IMG_0327Also, no one wanted to hear my incredibly entertaining and informative talk on WW2 and planes. Not even my epic story about the battle of Britain and how we owe so much to so few. In hindsight, I should have talked about how my dad had worked on those planes or mentioned that Finn and Jake flew them in an alternate universe. In fact, I was so boring that I was left talking to myself at one point, looking up at a ME109 swooping down from the ceiling. *sigh*

Another dad looked over at me, as I glanced around to where my family had gone and just shook his head and smiled. He too was alone, his family standing in line to get rewards for completing the Ripley questions.

However, for the oldest, there was highlight. Something that he actually enjoyed.

IMG_2173I took him on a flight sim. An F18, blue angels sim.

The youngest refused to go. He knows his limits. It’s one thing to climb into a cockpit that doesn’t move, another thing entirely to be locked in a large coffin-like box that could spin upside down.

So the oldest and I were belted inside one of the sim machines., told about the controls, then sealed inside.

He was a bit nervous. Excited, too, but nervous. I was dead proud of him for even trying this out. It was going to take him well beyond his comfort zone.

Then the sim started.

The oldest roared down the runway then into the sky. The controls were hard to understand, at first. He flew into buildings, the ocean, the runway, and a mountain. But then he began to get the hang of it. We shot straight up, the sim tilted 90 degrees. We spun in the air, the sim rolling us upside down. We barrel rolled and banked and dove, over and over and over again.

IMG_2176I held on for dear life while the oldest laughed and giggled and shouted with pure joy.

However, apparently there was a camera in the sim. The prettiest girl in the world said I looked like I wanted to get out.

And throw up.

I told her that’s my usual face, but it was all I could do to hold on as the oldest flew the hell out of that plane.

It only lasted 10 min, but it was an amazing 10 min.

He wants one for his home now.

Afterwards, we collected the little rewards for having completed the Ripley believe it or not questions (though, to be truthful, the youngest had decided to tick every possible answer box, but they gave him a gift anyway – which was probably based on numerous previous meltdowns experienced by younger children.) The oldest got a pencil which he dubbed his magic wand. The youngest got something he hit his brother with on the way home but I’ll be damned if I can remember what it was.

IMG_2154However, despite my failure to interest anyone in the epicness of flight and warplanes and tales of WW1 and 2, we hadn’t got kicked out, both boys had a bit of fun at some point and the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world hadn’t had to explain why her boys (me included) had done something silly.

So, a success, I guess.

But we still had some time left in the day.

What to do, what to do?

Luckily our secret San Diego spy, Schmennis, had a suggestion.

The day was not done yet!

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Traveling With Kids- San Diego Balboa Park – Ripley’s

Posted on April 15, 2014 by Joe Cummings

Believe It Or Not
IMG_0291What would he boys want to see more? Elephants or the elephant man? A popular zoo or someone who can pop his eyes out of his head?

Duh!

When they heard that there was a Ripley’s believe it or not display, they were so excited that he HAD to add it to our itinerary. It was located in the Air and Space museum. Balboa Park. Not that far from our hotel.

The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world got us there without a hitch.

IMG_0304Inside, there were drones flying above our head. Beneath them, the Apollo 9 gumdrop capsule sat looking like it had been through a war or entered the atmosphere or something. There were moon rocks, models of the whole Apollo 9 rocket, space suits…

ripleys pageAnd the boys politely looked at all of them, but their eyes were constantly glancing towards the Ripley’s display.

So, not wanting to torture them anymore, we went in.

ripleysThere were all sorts of horrible and grotesque things, so the boys had the time of their lives. Wanna see a guy stick a huge cockscrew into his nose and out his mouth? They got a vid of that. Want to see a totem of some sort covered in flayed human skin? They got that. How about an astronaut carved inside a needle?  Yup, got that, too. Want to see a man who can dislocate his entire body? Guess what, they have that on vid, too.

IMG_2157There was a car made out of wood, the world’s smallest production car, a replica of the world’s tallest man, little picture-like blocks on the wall filled with all sorts of cool facts, a short movie about Ripley himself and plenty of hands on things to touch like a life-sized operation game.

The boys bounced from display to display, eager to get to the next one.

The youngest one found a set of boxes he could crawl into. He loved that we couldn’t see him. Oh, we could hear his giggling, but he was gone from our sight.

IMG_0311The oldest dutifully completed the quiz they’d given him, finding all the answers to questions like who owned the moon and

IMG_2159The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world loved the carriage made out of jade. Not a model carriage, an honest to god carriage that could carry at least 2 people.

I loved a video screen where I could make all sorts of things go forward or backwards or stop, things like a glass breaking, a dog wagging water of itself, music making waves in milk. When the oldest found me, I think I may have been talking to myself. Pretty, so pretty, yes, yes it is.

The oldest measured himself against the tallest man in the world. At least a robotronic version of him (the tallest man, not the oldest.)

IMG_0318The two of them played with magnetic gears. I tell you, if there was something they could touch, they touched it, and if there was something they could touch that made sound, they touched it at least twice, and if it was super gross, they had to be dragged away from it.

IMG_0307But the fun, the bestest fun, was when they saw the megalodon mouth. Perhaps their most favourite creature in the world. If they could have lived in there, they would have. As it is, when they can clone something, they’re gonna clone a megalodon. And ride it.

None of us broke anything. The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world didn’t throw up when she saw the stuff made out of human skin. The youngest didn’t injure himself on all the pointy things. The oldest found more amazing and disgusting things that he could see in real life. And me, I was so sad there wasn’t a t-shirt made out of congealed bull semen or something.

We all had such fun.

But there was still a whole museum to see.

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Traveling With Kids – San Diego – Balboa Park

Posted on April 15, 2014 by Joe Cummings

Our Secret Spy

bondTruth time. The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world had a spy down in San Diego. To protect his identity, let’s call him Schmennis. He‘d gave us advice on where to look for a good Mexican restaurant. He’d given us advice on driving times and things to see, things to do, and things to avoid. He given advice on the weather, clothes to wear and a place the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world could do some shopping.

IMG_0282IMG_0286So, after we had visited the gorillas again, (no sign of the baby), after we had done the gorilla stance, after we had eaten terrible hamburgers while the red-eyed bird kept its eye on the oldest, after we had fed a few ducks, bought a few souvenirs, tried to find popsicles and failed, after we’d bought gorilla t-shirts for the boys, it was on his advice that we went to our next destination.

balboa park mapBalboa park. The park of about a billion museums. Ok, that’s not entirely true, but the park is HUGE!  It has the San Diego Air & Space Museum, the San Diego Museum of Art, the San Diego Automotive Museum, the San Diego Hall of Champions, the Centro Cultural de la Raza (whatever the heck that is), the Museum of the Living Arts, the San Diego Museum of Man, (not to be confused with the San Diego Natural History Museum), the San Diego Model Railroad Museum (oh my, the geek in me got all tinglie inside), the Mingei (What?) International Museum, the Museum of Photographic Arts, the Reuben H. Fleet Science Center (for little kids), the Timken Museum of Art, the Veterans Museum and Memorial Center, the George W. Marston House and the San Diego History Center.

Whew, right?

Plus there were gardens and green parks and merry-go-rounds and the San Diego Zoo and dogs.

It’s the neat thing about not having a hard and fast schedule. We could do a whole ton of things with our free time. So, we’d researched some options the night before and presented the incredible findings to the boys. The Air and Space Museum had a Ripley’s Believe it Or Not exhibition!!!!

Unlike the epic fail of Universal Studios, this suggestion made the younger one hoot, and the older one smile, just a bit at first, but then he couldn’t contain himself and got all bouncy and excited like his younger brother.

Now you have to understand. The boys, the oldest in particular, has a bookcase full of books about odd things, weird things, smelly things, dead things, and sharks.

johnny depp chocSeeing a real life exhibit by Ripley would pretty much hit most of those things. It would so awesome, like the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world eating chocolate with Johnny Depp or me having the abs of one of those 300 Spartan guys.

So, off we drove.

But our guru had not told us what to expect when we arrived there. It was way better than we even imagined.

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