It Never Rains in Southern California

The last year my dad and I went to California was December of 1999. I remember because everyone was freaking out about Y2K...my mom still has a stash in her basement we affectionately call that. Really it's just an open pantry, but nicknames die hard.

The year was 1999. Prince was on the radio A LOT. Banks were stressed out their computers wouldn't be able to move a decimal point or know what to do with sooo many zeroes. People were outfitting bunkers and stocking up on water, duct tape, and canned goods. While the world was in a panic, dad and I were driving through the Rocky Mountains.

Just as an aside, two of our favorite sites to see heading out West:
: driving down to Albuquerque as night (dad says the lights shimmer like jewels). You're driving in pitch blackness for miles in every direction until you crest a hill and there it is. Millions of twinkling lights dancing in the darkness.

: driving into Denver and seeing the massive Rocky Mountains as its backdrop.

The only other time I can think of being impressed by mountains jutting up above a skyline is the Alps in Liechtenstein, but more on that much later. Not my own pic, but you get the idea.

But I digress. So, dad and I were heading back to our old stomping grounds of Oceanside, CA. We finally made it to our hotel and it was pouring rain. I had it on good authority that it never rained in southern California, but it sure as shit did that year. It rained the whole time we were there; heavy, persistent rain. I had the worst cabin fever and was driving my dad and myself crazy.

Dad was fine watching his many college football bowls on TV. I love a good football game, but there was a point when they were showing the same ones over again. Dad was fine. This is the man who would ask me to make him tapes (then) and CDs (now) and want the same some repeated 3 and 4 times in a row. Repetition is not a problem for him. I, on the other hand, was literally jumping on my bed saying, "I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored." That repetition did get on his nerves. Oh, sure, NOW he cares. He gave me the keys to the car and I went to the movies. The Green Mile, in case you were wondering. It wasn't a bad trip, but it was a bit of a boo. Certainly not the sun and sand we were expecting and it's about a 30hr drive to get there. That's a long way to go to do the same thing we could have done at home.

That year was the last year we went to California. We still loved it, but figured that was the universe's way of telling us to move on...and move we did.

The Birth of a World Traveler Part 1

The first time I went overseas was when I was 15. I had been to Mexico and Canada, but nothing requiring a passport...although, now both countries do. My father received a Fulbright Scholarship to teach in a foreign country. Anywhere in the world this man could've chosen. Do you think he chose an island or a place renown for its cuisine or architecture or landscape or parties? Do you think he chose a place with ancient monuments to the gods or rulers? Perhaps a tropical land populated with beautiful people? Nope. This man, my father, chose Ukraine. Sometimes, when I want to give my friends a good laugh, I'll just randomly say Ukraine. My friends love it because it's so delightfully random.

I had just concluded a rather mediocre performance in junior high school as the GPA and actual definition of an average student. I home schooled for the fall semester and we left for Ukraine in February of 1991. For those that don't know, Ukraine is located under the south-eastern corner of Russia next to Poland, Moldova, and the Black Sea. It was under heavy Russian rule until the dissolution of the USSR in 1990. Obviously, there's more to the history than that, probably slightly inaccurate, blurb, but I am no historian and this is a story about me and my dad. Let's focus, people.

My dad, brother, and I arrived February of 1991...you do the math. My brother and I were there for the experience and took Russian classes at Odessa State University (which I received a diploma from that I still, to this day, can't read) and dad taught English. We lived in the international общежитие (dormitory) for 6 months. Ukraine had just gained independence from Russia the year before and it was a mess. Here are a quick run-down of my favorite moments:

: Not knowing what there'd be to drink, we brought a stack of Kool-Aid packs only to discover there was a sugar ration.

: My brother, 16 and annoyed to be there, packed his suitcases full of books and his computer only to have his computer singed by 220W of electricity a Ukrainian faulty converter couldn't, um, convert.

: Bread lines around the corner like in the history books.

: My dad and brother buying brand new bicycles that fell apart within a week. I think my brothers' peddles fell off the first day. The bikes were probably made by Ukrainians the same guys who made the converters.

:Mopoжeнoe

: The 16:1 Coupon to Dollar conversion rate we enjoyed. I bought long stem roses almost everyday and gave them away to grumpy people. I also bought an accordion.

: Open air markets with meats and wheels of cheese sitting out all day long.

: The first day out at the aforementioned market, right after agreeing on a meeting place if we got separated, my dad getting scooped up my the militsia for taking pictures of them. After reuniting an eternity later, my father exacted his revenge by buying every military pin he could find. He's got a very cool collection.

: The summer "cleaning of the pipes" that turned off the hot water forcing us to announce when we were taking showers so we could have the door wide open to bathe within the warmth of the sun. I've never seen my toes turn so pale.

: The "Muddy Mississippi" or my hair when I washed it because of all of the dust and dirt in Odessa.

: Toilet paper that felt like paper towels and paper towels that were just tree bark.

: The woman at the cafe in front of our school building that sold --to date--the most delicious falafel.

: -20° winters and 110° summers.

: Vinny from the Bronx and go cart races.

: My first opera.

: My first embassy dinner.

: Stopping by a shoe store after we flew into Kiev beneath a blanket of snow and me only packing flats.

: Having to wait months to settle the age old question: does one lose love or ooze love?

I'm sure there are more things that I will recall later or will be reminded of that will cause me to edit this post, but it's late and that's what I remember.

This concluded Part 1 and our broadcast day...