Wrong Camera

On the hunt for big adventure, we made no mistake in steering our rental vehicle north to the Grand Canyon, a four-hour drive that ended with our overwhelming awe at the sight that suddenly appeared out the passenger-side window.

A hasty parking job and a short walk to the rim, and there it was, so immense, so impossible to put in proper perspective. The best way to describe it is — and those who know me know that I don't drop Steven Spielberg references lightly — to recall that scene from "Jaws" when Roy Scheider catches his first glimpse of the great shark, which is much more than the harmless guppy they thought it would be. The giant shark slinks back into the sea, and Scheider turns to his unsuspecting fellow crew members and says, "I think we're gonna need a bigger boat." (I'd argue, the best moment in any of Spielberg's otherwise overrated movies.)

Well ... so we're looking at the Grand Canyon, and the epiphany comes: I think we're gonna need a bigger camera.


This pocket-sized point-and-shoot Canon, while a trusty piece of equipment, seemed horribly feeble to the task of capturing the majestic, panoramic landscape before us. Nevertheless, I snapped my photos and we wandered the South Rim and we enjoyed ourselves. Maybe some of those photos turned out adequately. Meanwhile, I'm plotting my return. Someday to slay the beast, with an air tank and a well aimed bullet ... or a Nikon D40 with high-powered zoom lens and polarizing filter.

Can't help but dream big.

Heat & Kindness

Liz here.

Two observations. One well known. One, perhaps, not.

One: It's hot here. Not like anything I've ever experienced before. It's rather astonishing and frickin' scary if you ask me. I think it hit about 111 degrees today. And yes, it's dry, but it's just brutal. The sun beating down on you is extreme.

Two: People are nice here. Very nice. Like Minnesota nice. We went to a grocery store, and two employees asked if we needed anything. And then at the checkout, we didn't have a savings card, so not only did the checkout guy offer us his but so did the guy behind us in line. Big savings, too.....$20 off because of their kindness! Let's just say we aren't use to that....

By the way, the time stamps are in Mountain Standard Time. Arizona doesn't do the whole daylight saving time.

Retirement Heaven/Hell

Sun City, Ariz., is the most unreal place on the planet. The city basically was single-handedly designed, created and built a few decades ago by a developer named Del Webb, who wrought on the Phoenix suburban landscape thousands of nearly identical condos, apartments and homes laid out in tidy rows with interiors custom designed for the 55 and older crowd, which is 80 percent of the people who live here.

We almost got lost coming in because everything looks the same. The president of the homeowners association let us in. He and his wife have been together since 1948, when they met in high school, and they've lived here nearly from the start, more than 30 years. This condo is owned by Liz's uncle through an inheritance arrangement that isn't worth going into here.

Uncle Jimmy has our eternal gratitude for letting us crash here a couple nights while we breathe in the dry, 107-degree Arizona air. The place is sparsely decorated but cozy enough. I'm sitting on a relaxing couch. Going easy on my rear end after our marathon plane ride, which almost didn't happen because of one of the airlines' pesky overbooking fiascoes.

But that's all behind us now, and the vacation lifestyle won't be hard to get used to. They even upgraded us to a Hyundai Santa Fe at the rental dealership — much larger than we need and much less efficient, but what the heck. The Southwest can turn us into gas-guzzlers for a week,

Well, gotta go. I think Liz has found a roadrunner and her chicks in the courtyard. Seriously. (So cool.)

Afternoon update: Upon further review, seems those birds aren't roadrunners, but rather Gambel's quail. Boy, were we fooled. But we haven't given up on the hunt for a real roadrunner. Beep-beep!

Holed Up in Newark

Vacation started for me at 6 p.m. this evening when I finally said, "screw this job," and caught the next elevator down to the lobby, where Liz was waiting outside with her luggage. I had taken my luggage with me to work, so with suitcases in hand we made our way down to New York's Penn Station.

This is our first real vacation since the wedding, and that ... well that didn't really count. A good time, yes. Memorable, yes. Oh, and encompassing the greatest moment of both of our lives, yes. Plus cake. But that week was hardly what you'd call a vacation.

This week, we're doing it up right, heading West by train, by plane and then by car. First stop, Phoenix and the Grand Canyon. Then to San Diego to visit my relatives and Fullerton to visit a Liz relative and then Los Angeles to visit more of my relatives, as well as my alma mater, USC. My first time back since the day I finally said, "screw this college." It was a long time ago.

Tonight, we made it by train out to the Newark airport, then caught our hotel shuttle. Flight leaves at 6:55 a.m., so we're staying at a crappy but comfy Econo Lodge. Liz wouldn't tolerate the place if it wasn't for the Perkins restaurant on the other end of the parking lot. (Liz says: Pie ... mmmmm.) Oh, and also, there's HBO and some George Carlin specials on (one of them a Jersey show!).

Up at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow. Hopefully we'll have more interesting adventures to describe in a day or two. And pictures by the end of the trip, unless I snag a cord somewhere so I can upload them as we go.

Update: Camera cord snagged. Travel blog now photo ready.

The World Can Go to Hell

I don't want to get a reputation as an obituary blogger, but I feel compelled to mention the passing of acerbic funnyman George Carlin.

One of the joys of working at newspapers, even small newspapers, is the opportunity to interview big names when they happen to pass through town. My 2003 interview with Carlin ahead of his gig at Wausau's Grand Theater was one of my most memorable. I seemed to ask all the right questions, and Carlin couldn't help giving the best answers, with his famous pessimism toward humanity. His shows often are frantic, but on the phone he sounded subdued.

"I don't take any of this stuff here in this world seriously," he said. "I don't care about anything. Nothing. Family and friends, yes, and it ends right there." Somehow he was able to make such bleak commentary horribly funny in performance art he called "kind of a heightened theatrical version of contempt and distaste and disappointment."

I remember him from some of his routines that made it onto radio's Dr. Demento show when I was in middle school high school, from his long list of funny book titles in The Book Club to the bit about the many versions of your stuff you take with you when you're on vacation. I don't think I ever heard the infamous "Seven Words" bit, except in censored form, but I'm sure I've used a few of the words from time to time.

Cymbeline

We had a wonderful Sunday after a long week of work. Dave and I traveled back to our old stomping grounds to see Cymbeline at the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival in Garrison, N.Y., about 15 miles south of Fishkill. We were joined by our friends Katie and Karl.

The play, which is one of the lesser known Shakespeare plays, was outstanding. It had a good mixture of comedy and tragedy.

The festival is held on the grounds of an historic federal-style house that overlooks the Hudson River. The view includes West Point. We took some pictures for you to see:
http://picasaweb.google.com/eputnam97/HudsonValleyShakespeareFestival

This week we are preparing for our big West Coast trip. On Sunday we are flying to Arizona for a few days to visit the Grand Canyon. Next, it's off to San Diego to visit Dave's Aunt Liz and Uncle Richard. (Yes, another Liz Paulsen!) From there we are off to L.A. to visit Dave's Aunt Ginger and Uncle Gerard. We also plan to make a stop at Dave's alma mater, USC, and visit Santa Monica. It's going to be a whirlwind trip for sure!