In which we travel coast to coast and home again.
As health benefits shrivel and die and the match in the corporate 401(k) evaporates, one clings to the last of the little perks:
Frequent flyer miles.
Thanks to the good people at Midwest Air and some fortuitously scheduled work travel, Robin and I were able to manage two quick back-to-back mini-vacations. We enjoyed my birthday weekend in New York followed immediately by a little guys' weekend for me with Abuelito Paul in San Francisco.
I've been to New York a hundred times for work, but rarely as a tourist and only once before with Robin. We did it up right-- tickets to the Broadway showing of Spamalot! (highly enjoyable), cocktails over Grand Central, walks through Times Square at night, and boat tours around Manhattan. Ever the photo-journalist, Robin did her usual tremendous job snapping shots of the city and even one timed picture of us in the hotel on our way out for the night.
(You'll see later that the quality of pictures in San Francisco quickly deteriorates. This represents Donn on his own with a camera.)
This marked our first weekend without Owen (or, as Robin has taken to calling him, "the Little Peapod"). Our parents took turns watching him utilizing a complex and seemingly spur of the moment series of hand-offs. This kept us only mildly frantic during our three-times-daily calls back to Kansas City to check on him.
We missed him terribly-- I especially did after taking a second trip almost immediately-- but I will admit there is an under-rated joy in waking because you're finished sleeping. This is as opposed to waking because someone across the hall is ready for his morning milk (lightly warmed, if you please).
Robin went home bright and early Monday morning while I stayed in New York to have a mildly miserable birthday of train rides and client visits and stops in at headquarters. The day was made even grumpier when the announcement that long-time cohort and very dear friend Melissa Hooker was leaving the firm for a cool new job in Kentucky.
I came home very late on Monday, saw my family Tuesday and Wednesday, and then took off for the Left Coast Thursday morning. I stayed gone until late Tuesday of the following week.
Robin made terrific use of the time, sneaking in visits with good friends M.J. and her son, Jon. Holly brought her folks over to visit Owen while I was gone, too.
Meanwhile, I was pounding the hills of San Francisco and enjoying not a few adult beverages with Abuelito Paul and, on Saturday, Abuelita Pamela.
Long-time residents of the Bay Area, P & P drove me around to their favorite haunts and got me on a ferry to Sausalito. (The original plan called for Tiburon, but we are nothing if not flexible.)
Much to food averse Pablito's chagrin, I managed to stuff my face with Thai food and fish. I also poisoned the spirit of Haight-Ashbury by purchasing Ben & Jerry's ice cream at the corner of hippie central. (Somehow it lessens the sense of rebellion when there's a GAP staring you in the face.)
We had a great tour of the Presidio and parts of Golden Gate park. I will spare you details of our night visit to the Castro. Let's just say the women there are remarkably large and unattractive with strange, bouffant hairdos and we were run off the sidewalks by more than one stampede of cowboys.
My only regrets are the worthlessness of my disposable camera and missing out on dim sum Sunday morning. I had a wonderful time but I was ready to go back to Kansas City.
Upon returning home, I was shocked at how much Owen had changed. Every now and again I go back and look at his old pictures from Kazakhstan, so I knew he'd been maturing into a little boy. Still, I wasn't prepared for so much difference in so short a time.
I've spent the last week trying to catch up on my time with the Peapod and his mother. She's teaching him sign language and he's mastered "eat" (finger into mouth) and "all done" (a comical dusting of the hands gesture). He's even learning to talk and Robin's even learning to understand him.
The other day, coming home from work, I was treated to "Hi, Dad!" from Owen. He said it clear as a bell, although we haven't heard it so distinctly since.
Perhaps we're the only ones who can understand him so plainly right now.
I guess it's just one of the benefits of being his parents.
