We had to be in Irvine, California on May 16th for my sister-in-law’s surprise birthday party. I was anxious to get there for that, but really, really anxious to get there so that we could dump off the noisy metal pedal car that had a horrible habit of slipping from its precarious perch on top of all our stuff in the back of the car. My brother, Chris, had graciously agreed to ship it home for us. It’s a good thing too, because one more dirt road and I would have to stuff the thing with packing peanuts and wrap it in 18 layers of bubble wrap to get the continuous rattling out of my head. Besides, if we didn’t get it out of there, there wouldn’t be any room for all the stuff that seems to accumulate on a trip like this.
Being the strange kind of person Jim is, we opted to stay at a hotel even though Chris and Carol refer to their home as the “Hotel California”. This meant that I could drink but Jim couldn’t. I rubbed it in big time. It was really hard to keep from saying anything about the party. I almost slipped up more than once, but Chris really had this all planned out and covered. He told us in front of Carol that they were going out to dinner with Ernie, their neighbor, and that since we were there Ernie had said we were more than welcome to come along.
I really liked Chris and Carol’s friends. Ernie, who is Asian, made us I feel like we were instantly part of his family. On the way to the restaurant where the party was held, Chris made a comment about the inherent respect, Asian children have for their parents. I thought about this for just a few minutes then answered “Yes, I’ve often wished my children were born Asian.” The entire car burst into laughter. The thing is, I was half serious.
The party was excellent…good food, good drink, good view, and best of all, great company.