Sunday, March 20, 2011

San Francisco

Rebekah and I departed at 11pm on Tuesday after a pair of long workdays following a few long workweeks.

Flight was thankfully quicker than normal- right at 4 hours, which is probably the shortest flight to or from Hawaii either of us has taken in our combined 20(!) years in Hawaii.

Arrived at 7-ish a.m. PST and caught a cab to our hotel, the Argonaut down on fisherman’s wharf.

The Argonaut was great. The doormen wear rather silly hats, which we thoroughly enjoyed. Very nautically themed hotel, appropriate for the area.

The front desk guy, named “Trainee”, very kindly let us check in at the ungodly early hour of 7:30- what a blessing. We hadn’t slept well on the plane and needed a nap.

4-5 hours later we got up, got cleaned up, and headed out to explore the fisherman’s wharf area. We had lunch at Boudin’s sourdough bakery on the wharf… and marveled at their 7-foot long sourdough crocodile. I had the shrimp tacos and Bekah had the monster chowdah bread bowl.

A quick note on our restaurant experiences- We decided to do something different and probably annoying for most of our waiters & waitresses- we ordered for one another at each meal. It was fun to try to figure out what the other was feeling like. We’re both pretty accommodating so there was never a disaster, and a couple times we actually chose things that the other liked but wouldn’t have chosen independently.

We checked out pier 39, the touristy shopping pier, with long stops in the kite store (very cool kites) and to play the as-yet-unreleased Nintendo 3DS. I need to buy some Nintendo stock- that thing is AMAZING. The 3D is very cool, and works well.


There is a nice view of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate bridge from the back of the pier where we took some photos. Around the side of pier 39 there is a bunch of pads where 4-5 dozen sea lions lay basking in the sun and yelling at one another whenever disturbed from their slumber. Reminded me of certain sides of my family.


We made it back to our hotel for complimentary wine hour, where the staff pours glass after glass of red & white to whoever asks… it’s quite popular. We sat down next to another young couple who, like us, were mostly paying attention to their cellphones. By the start of wine glasses 3 and 4 we were chatting. They were Steve and Pip (short for Phillipa), who were on their Honeymoon- they were from jolly ol England, where they’d been married last weekend. Their wedding and origin were nearly endless sources of conversation.

Soon a 70-ish sequin-clad one-woman USO parade calling herself “Phabulous” joined us. She was a tornado of conversation and energy. She endeared herself to me by insulting the patriotism of our British friends because they didn’t know when Flag Day was. I’ve spent my entire adult life in the US Military and don’t know when Flag Day is. She claimed her exuberancy was her natural defense against Fibromyalgia- she woke at 3 am daily and was on the move and partying hard until late every night. A feisty woman, Phabulous mentioned she was off on a cruise in a couple of days, and since she’d made it a point in earlier conversation to name drop all the bartenders and conierges that she knew in San Francisco I told her about my good buddy and fellow former Marine, Mike, who just so happened to be one of the head bartenders on the very exact same cruise ship she was headed out on… and that if she saw any bartenders named Mike or Michael to be sure to call him M-Dog and tell him Jon from the Marines says hi. I like the thought that this 70-ish tornado of crazy will soon be harassing some poor bartender on a cruise ship.

Eventually the free wine stopped flowing and the party ended, but we made plans to get some dinner with Pip & Steve after a quick wardrobe change.

Pip wanted to go to a place called the Tonga room that she’d heard about- there’s a floating stage in the middle of the restaurant where the musicians play while floating about. It’s got a Polynesian/Hawaiian theme and they have realistic Hawaii drink prices as well. I ordered Bekah a “Zombie” which came in a miniature hollowed totem pole- I mean what says Hawaii like a totem pole right!! The zombie turned out to be pretty strong and not very tasty… and maybe not the best idea in hindsight

We left the pseudo-tropical bar before we felt too much at home, went back near our hotel to a restaurant creatively named “the pub” where we shared a few more drinks & good laughs with Pip and Steve- Bekah ordered me the BBQ Pulled Pork sandwich & she got the grilled chicken w/avocado.

Thursday Morning we woke up late and stayed lazy. We napped about and I mucked around on the internet- Phabulous had left both us and Steve & Pip some messages which were quite funny (see Steve's video- our message was roughly the same).

Bekah and I got Mexican food- I had the Chicken Enchiladas & she had some delicious Shrimp Fajitas. The Salsa was excellent and we had an innocent argument about whether the Mexican waiter meant that the “250 tequila bottles” advertised on the menu were full (which makes sense to me) or empty(which somehow makes sense to my wife)… I mean there were certainly empty tequila bottles all over the walls, but who cares? Why advertise that you have empty booze bottles? Anyhow, no resolution was to be found in this conversation. On we went.

After a bit more strolling around and a stop into the starbucks we rode the cable car to Union square. This was a lot of fun- it being a relatively benign day I hung off of the outside of the car for most of the journey, which was enjoyable for the first 80% of the journey but not a viable mode of long-haul travel. We ended up in the shopping mecca that is Union Square. We bounced among a few stores, to include the San Francisco Apple store (aka Mecca) and a few hoity toity designer places where we pretended to be worthy of their textiles.




In further annoyingly cute couples adventures, we went to Old Navy and picked out St. Patty’s outfits for one another- a cute top/scarf/jacket for her and a plain green t-shirt for me. Sufficed to say it’s a great fitting shirt.

Once back outside it was approaching wine:30 so we had to hightail it back to the Argonaut. I hate waiting in line so instead of cueing up in the back of the cable car herd we humped it up the hill along the cable car track assuming we could hop on one a few blocks up after it had shed a few passengers. This took several blocks farther than expected, and when we finally caught one it turns out it was the wrong one and we ended up about 10 blocks from our hotel. We hoofed it back, nary a complaint from Bekah who usually suggests just waiting with the rest of the crowd in these situations. What a great bride.

At wine hour on Thursday we arrived in our newly purchased ardent (that means greened up, right?) splendor to see Phabulous in head-to-toe green sequins. She saw us but didn’t make a fuss- thankfully- she had another couple caught in her conversational quicksand.

We met up with Pip & Steve again and ate a delicious meal across the street from our hotel at pompeii’s grotto- I had the Seafood Scallops & Shrimps & ordered Bekah the Crab Manicotti. I quite mistakenly forgot my credit card at the restaurant- more on that later.

We headed up to a nearby Irish pub to meet my childhood friend Megan and her excellently bearded beau Michael for some St. Patty’s day revelry. Good times were had by all- the six of us got along famously and downed several more drinks and a half dozen helium balloons than we had intended to. Yes, you read that right. The night’s zenith was when we decided to take the Mylar helium balloons with “Happy st. Patty’s day” written on them, huff the helium with a straw, and then sing songs to one another. This was, without a doubt, both splendidly hilarious and incredibly stupid. But when celebrating the Irish culture it seems appropriate.

Waking up the next morning was, we agreed, a bad move.

I discovered that I was missing a credit card and went off on a mission to retrieve it from Pompeii’s Grotto and to retrieve some breakfast for my headache-addled bride. The Credit card was on the absolute bottom of the drawer full of dozens of credit cards- whew- and I retrieved Eggs Benedict for my sugarplum and a spicy eggy scramble for myself.

We had signed up for the “Bike the Bridge” tour for Friday but decided against it due primarily to the rain and secondarily to our untrustworthy equilibrium. We decided instead to go for a hike up the Coit tower, which stands overlooking a good chunk of San Francisco and was about ¾ mile from our hotel. Walking there proved a bit of a challenge- there were a few wrong turns but we eventually found a set of stairs that rivaled most entrances to Mordor in height and number- although much more scenic and fewer spiders.

We made it to the Coit tower, Bekah again proving that she is a massive studmuffin. We spent a good while taking photos from the top and enjoying the somewhat windy and rainy landscape below. There are a ton of really cool rooftop patios built all over San Francisco.






Then took the bus down the hill, but since we didn’t really know where it was going we hopped off before it got too far and walked towards downtown. We took a detour though Chinatown, looked at a few of the shops, and ended up back in Union Square like the day before. We made a beeline to a nearby movie theater and caught Battle: Los Angeles which is an Alien invasion/disaster flick with lots of loud noises and Marines yelling Mariney things at one another. We both enjoyed it immensely.


Having nothing better to do, we wandered over to starbucks, and brainstormed what we wanted to find to do next. We had had a blast in Vegas at a Dueling Piano bar, and after a couple fiddles with the phone we found one in San Fran. As luck would have it, the place was literally across the street with the show starting in one hour… what luck.

Before pianos we ate some Mediterranean food- I ordered Bekah Lamb Souvlakia which was a hit and not something she would have ever ordered on her own. I had the chicken pesto pizza- meh.

Went to dueling pianos- what a blast- place was packed and we were probably underdressed- this was the place to be- lots of the beautiful people there. We had a great time- our guy played Rebekah’s request “The Gambler” despite the scripted protests of his accomplice. There were actually three pianists that rotated, and all three were excellent. These places are a blast- I can’t believe we’ve never got one in Hawaii.

Saturday was our 6th anniversary and may forever be known as the “the day of frigid, miserable happiness”

Woke up feeling much better than the previous day, but unfortunately it was raining even harder than Friday. We made the call to ride bikes anyway. We’d bought raincoats prior to riding, which was a smart move. Gloves would have been brilliant. Or maybe not jeans.

Rode the ~6 miles to the other side of the bridge kinda with the wind, and then turned around and rode back. The views were phenomenal and biking the bridge is incredibly cool, but it was cold and very wet so not entirely enjoyable. Riding back into the wind I tried to get Bekah right behind me while making as large a hole in the wind as was possible… not sure how well that worked out. One thing’s for sure- I’m glad my babe is a Marine. Her capacity to endure is clutch.





On the way back we had some tasty sammiches and organic hippie cola at “the warming hut” near the base of the bridge. Many san francisconitians were out jogging, walking dogs or splashing in puddles. 52 degrees and rainy is apparently not too bad for the locals.

Got back from the rain-soaked ride, turned in our bikes and took some long hot showers.

After a long thawing period we went up to Ghiradelli square and looked around a bit, felt uncomfortable in a hoity-toity wine store and went back to the Pub from Wednesday night and had a proper dinner- I had a spinach/bacon/egg/carmelized walnut salad and Bekah had a spicy BBQ turkey melt sandwhich- both were excellent.

After that, we headed back to the hotel for yet another free wine hour- watched a little basketball while there and I explained who Jimmer Fredette is to my bride as we marveled at his freakish shooting ability.

Headed to Alcatraz at about six, and it had started to rain big, thick, cold raindrops. And no rainbows. In line to get on board our shuttle boat we met a kindly mustachioed allergy doctor who was in town for a conference. He was there all alone, and he seemed a nice guy, so we hung w/him for most of the tour.

We were on the last Alcatraz tour of the day- we got there as the sun was setting and started the tour at dusk.

Alcatraz is very well put together. They have an audio tour that very effectively moves you through the prison with the voices of men who were both guards and prisoners. The evening tours also get to see the infirmary upstairs- this was also quite spooky- the old medical equipment and decrepit halls and high ceilings- great setting for a horror film.












The weather that night was absolutely horrible- the rain was coming in sheets and sideways. We decided to get out of there on the second to last ferry- something about being stranded on a prison island in a dark, rainy night with a bunch of dumb tourists is unsettling. We headed back.

Caught a cab downtown to the Punch Line comedy club. It was still cold & rainy when we got there so we popped into a little bar for a snack and a bailey’s & hot chocolate. Once we were sufficiently warmed we darted back around the corner to the comedy club- only to have the “doors open at 9:45” doors not open- we had to wait across a courtyard under a building for 40 (!) minutes until they let us in. This was not entirely cool.

Playing that night were Kevin O’Shea, a scruffy stoner, Jason Wheeler, an excellently sarcastic everyman and headliner Todd Barry, who’s been around for a while and has a very good dry seonse of humor and great crowd interactions. Bekah really enjoyed herself, and I continue to fantasize about being able to do that standup stuff myself.

It was 1 am when we finally got home and we were to be up at 6:30 for the across-the-bridge 12k race. This seemed like a particularly good idea at 5 pm the day before, but as is typical of such things, seemed like a very bad idea at 6:31 am. Further, it seemed a terrible idea when we got outside into the misty 40-something degree morning wearing my running shorts and a long sleeved t-shirt. Rebekah was significantly less enthusiastic, but somehow we made it.

We hopped onto a bus for our ride to the start line on the other side of the bay in Sausalito. The race course took us under the bridge on the north side, back up onto the bridge, over it on the West(Ocean)side, down the hill and back almost to our hotel near Fisherman’s wharf. Having ridden most of the route the previous day, we knew what to expect both in route and weather conditions. We waited nearly an hour at the start line for our wave to start, and then were off. Sunshine greeted us for the first 15 minutes, but by the time I was halfway across and Bekah was just starting the bridge, that sideways rain returned to make it somewhat miserable for the ensuing 20 minutes or so. Running did help with staying warm, however- I never felt on my run and apart from her feet (which never have crossed north of 57 degrees farenheit anyway), Bekah stayed warm as well. We both took a couple of pictures of the very scenic run.



I finished just after my goal time of 1 hour- averaging a little over 8 minute miles, not bad considering the hills and wetness of the course combined with the general laziness and overindulgence of the preceding week. Bekah trotted in a little while later- no pain from the hip and just some stiff legs. She really is recovering from her major surgery well. We were glad to have done it- grabbed some SWAG and crossed the street back to our hotel for some warm showers and dry clothes.

Lunch was at the (highly recommended) little Beach Street Café where I scarfed down a breakfast burrito and Bekah enjoyed their fresh crab Eggs Benedict.

Post-lunch we headed out to find some gifts for friends and family and the obligatory Christmas tree ornament, got a few more items for the trip home and headed to the airport.

A truly excellent trip- and now back to reality!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Richard and Sharon and Medals and Buttons

I was at the Hickam uniform store in the final stages of getting my new Mess Dress uniform tailored when I started paying attention to a sixty-something gentleman, with his wife, at the counter talking to a saleslady about where he could find specific ribbons for a uniform. He needed to get to the Navy exchange where they maybe had some of the stuff he was looking for. The saleslady was not as helpful as he’d hoped, and I could feel frustration growing from across the room. I saw out of the corner of his wife tugging on his arm and pointing to me. He turned, and when he made eye contact I asked

“whaddya looking for?”

“Oh, the Navy Exchange. I need some ribbons and medals that I got in the Marine Corps. I need some stuff they don’t have here.”

“oh it’s right out the main gate, stay right, first exi-

“we don’t have a car- we’re just visiting”

“oh… no rental?” I asked, and I think I sounded a little more incredulous than I meant to.

“No… took the shuttle from the Hale Koa over here”

“oh- well I’ll take you guys over, it’s really close.” I knew this surprised him, so instead of waiting around for him to gather his thoughts and halfheartedly deny my offer of a ride, I ducked back into the tailor’s room to finish my business with her and take off.

I came back out a few moments later, he was waiting with his wife, looking at over-motivational Air Force memorabilia with explosions and muscular eagles on them.

“Richard. Nice to meet you”

“Jon , same here.”

“and this is my wife, Sharon”

I shook her hand, she smiled. She was delicate and tan. She was probably quite the babe in 1970. Well played, Rich.

We walk out, get in the car. Making small talk the whole way. They’re out in Hawaii for 11 days… first time in Hawaii… Rich was a Marine for 6 years, served in Vietnam, then a cop and an Army Reserve first sergeant until his retirement at the grand old age of 60. 41 years of Military service. At the same time he served 30 years as a Cincinatti Cop, and the last five years as the detention teacher at the local high school. Sharon doesn’t even attempt to get a word in edgewise.

As we’re leaving I look at her in the rearview- “Sharon- you guys have any kids?”

She taps Richard in the passenger’s seat

“Oh yeah” he says “Five: 35, 33, 32, 30 and 29… “ he went through a well-practiced monologue on kids, locations, careers, grandkids...

I asked “so what’s the occasion for wearing your uniform that you need all these medals for? going to a ball or ceremony or something?”

“Nope” said Richard “I’m just gonna take my wife out to dinner in my uniform- it still fits, and I’m going to wear it for her.” He explained that he had brought his dress Army uniform but left his accoutrements box- his medals and shiny anodized buttons sitting on the dresser back home.

“Whoa!” I said playfully… “look out ladies”

I turned to look at Sharon, she was smiling, still not speaking.

“Oh and my wife’s not being rude… she has trouble speaking.” Richard spoke as we kept driving “Last January, she was diagnosed with ALS”

Boom.

I kept driving, I think I kept a straight face, but the whole picture started to form. ALS… Lou Gherig’s disease… muscles or nerves or something just shut down… 100% fatal, takes about two years, maybe three. It’s painful; those closest to the affected have to endure watching a loved one rapidly fade from perfect health to complete paralyzation and then death.

So here I am, driving a man and his wife on a mission to find medals for his uniform so he can wear it and take her out for the night of her life. This is it; this is their big trip. 11 days in paradise, 11 days away from doctors and bad news. This is the last best week of their romance, and they both know it.

I know it now, too, so I’m getting a bit choked up in the front seat as Richard is talking a little bit about the disease and her symptoms thus far. I didn’t really hear too much.

After I got my emotions in check, I tell Rich I’m at his disposal and we’re gonna find the stuff he needed for his uniform and I would give them a ride back to their hotel.

We get a runaround at the Navy exchange, but eventually find the new uniform store and find his combat aircrew wings he earned in Vietnam. He was a crew chief on H-34’s- those old green grasshopper-looking choppers.

As a Marine he had done two combat tours in Vietnam, in the thick of the fighting. He didn’t say much about combat. He said it was a tough job but he enjoyed flying- the pilots would actually let him take the stick from time to time when they were on training missions or in safe areas- that way he could perform basic flight operations and get them home if they were wounded or killed.

We get what we need on the Navy base, I give them a bit of a driving tour, show them the subs and destroyers. We continue on to the Army base, and Richard tells me about his job after Vietnam.

He did two years as a body escort- 1970 and ’71. He was a sergeant, and his job was to meet the body of a Marine killed overseas as it landed in the United States, and accompany it home and be at that Marine’s side until he was laid to rest. Richard said it was at times a wonderful and at other times a horrible job. These were the days of the draft, so some of the time he was accompanying the body of a Marine who hadn’t wanted to be a Marine, and the family saw him as the symbol of the enemy. Other times, the family was incredibly gracious and appreciative for his service- in one Texas town he was given a car. Richard still does burial detail and greets returning soldiers- live ones- at the airport whenever he has time.

We get the rest of his medals and buttons at the Army base. We get Mexican food near the Airport. We talk for 2 hours, and Sharon looks through all the pictures of Rebekah and the boys on my phone. She writes notes and questions on a little pad of paper, and she laughs at our jokes.

I pick up Rebekah (her flight from DC came in that afternoon)… she was confused and surprised but ultimately fine with the sixty-somethings needing a ride back downtown. We have a pleasant drive to Waikiki, drop them off and exchange phone numbers. Sharon smiles, gives me a big hug and a piece of paper. We say goodbye, I look at the paper.

So… the next few miles of driving are mostly me crying my big softie eyes out because I was simultaneously heartbroken for Richard and Sharon but honored to have been able to help them for an afternoon. I’m going to save that note for a long time.

So on Veteran’s day, I’m going to think about Richard and Sharon.

Sharon’s probably not going to be able to live without a machine in 12 months, and most likely will be gone in less than two years.

Richard’s a guy who between Vietnam, two years of Marine funerals and thirty years of police work has probably seen every rough thing a man can see, and the roughest days are ahead of him.

And all he wants more than anything to take his darling bride out for a night on the town dressed the best he can- in his uniform- with medals and buttons shining.

Sometimes people sure are wonderful. Semper Fi, Rich.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Adventurous Afternoon

Noon.

Email arrives, it's from Mo. Mo's my golfing buddy, a great guy and running for state rep from Kaneohe. I had helped him write and produce some videos and other material for his campaign. Mo's got some other buddy who's taking him to the UH vs. USC game- Tonight!, and he's offering me the fourth ticket. Great seats, 10th row, 40 yard line on the shady (preferred) side of the stadium. I get clearance from CINCHOUSE. I get to go.

3 pm.

Leave work a tad early, scoot over to the NEX to buy a UH hat so I don't get beat to smithereens by anybody because I look more like a typical USC fan than a typical UH fan. I happen past the nice hawaiian shirts section. I like the Tori Richard shirts, but they're so expensive... usually $90-100... I look at a couple. They've got sale tags on them, obviously wrong- they've been mismarked at 29.99. I immediately go into shady Jon mode, looking around out of the corners of my eyes as I surreptitiously grab a half dozen erroneously marked shirts. Saleslady approaches. I act cool. She comes right up to me. Uh oh. As I prepare to deliver a killing strike, she speaks:
"can you believe that price!"
"uh... no... I kinda thought they were mismarked"
"nope, that's our labor day weekend sale"
"o... nice"
So I bought 6 of them, although I probably would have bought more if I thought I was getting away with something.

4pm

After driving around forever, I park and walk down to the stadium to meet Mo & co. Everyone is having cell phone issues- apparently 50 thousand cell phones in a small area are hard on the network.

5pm.

We're in the stadium, almost to our seats. They're about to play the national anthem before kickoff, so we all stop and it's kinda quiet. I hear my phone chirp. I take a look. New voicemail, but no missed call. I call my voicemail.

"You have one new message, Received at 4:21 pm"... that's 39 minutes ago...

It's my wife... crying....

"Jon... got (unintelligible) accident on the highwa...(???)...rear ended ..(???)... et the boys ..(???)... all me"

Zounds! She's in trouble, and probably been calling me.. and it's been almost 40 minutes!!! Gaaah!

I call back... riiiing(beep)... riiiiing(beep)... means she's on the other line? I leave a message, say bye to Mo and I'm running out of the stadium.

Hero Daddy mode- ENGAGE!
Now, to diverge for a moment... I'm one of those guys with a bit of a hero complex. The problem is, when you fall in love and marry a rather independent and relatively even-keeled woman, you rarely get the opportunity to come swooping in with your cape aflutter and save the day. So there was a lot of pent-up hero fuel in me ready to get burned.

Now, it's a mile to my car, (I google earthed it later). Uphill.

I'm running out of the stadium and here's my thought process:
"you should probably run pretty fast here."
"but I'm wearing slacks and dress shoes and I'd look like an idiot or a criminal"
"so what, she's been in a car accident"
"meh, OK. Let's do this. screw you brain."
"yeah. what's the point of all that running crap if you don't use it when you need it, let's set a speed record here"

so I did. I booked it up that hill like I stole something. I swear to you it took me 7 minutes flat and I had to stop for a red light. Hundreds of people in cars watching me, I kept my eyes down and my legs pumping.

Got to the car, got in. hit the road. Sweating like tiger woods in church. My AC only works when it's cool outside, never in the heat of the afternoon. It's great like that.

Calling again... riiiing(beep).... riiiing (beep)... what the..?

Ambulance goes screaming past me in the other direction. Not helpful.

Get ahold of Kate. She got a call too, she'll get to the boys before me. (they have to be picked up by 5:30 or we get charged $5.00 and are riddled with enormous parental guilt)

Calling Bekah. Sending texts. Driving poorly.

5:16 pm.

My phone rings.

"are you OK??"
"yeah...I'm OK."
"OK I'm on my way home."
"oh... no Kate can get the boys. go to the game."
"ummm... you were in an accident- where are you?"
"in the driveway. I've been on the phone with state farm- that's why I didn't click over"
"ummm..."
"Yeah I figured you'd know I was OK because I was on my phone"
"ummm... all I had to go on was a garbled phone message where you're crying... so...."
"o... sorry"
"that's OK... I guess I'm not mad or anything, still just thrilled you're OK."
"Ok"
"be home soon. I'm very, very sweaty. hug me like I'm your hero please."

She got a big sweaty hug when I got home. Very sweaty.

The truck will be OK eventually. It was the other guys' fault.

And I got a sweet deal on some shirts and a good interval workout. Good adventure.