Things Learned On Vacation
The family spent last week up in Virginia, where the weather is cooler and less humid and the terrain a bit hillier.
Here are a few things learned along the way:
Motley Crue Rocks
A brother-in-law dragged me and another brother-in-law to this thing called Crue Fest at Virginia Beach a couple of Sunday nights ago.
I've never been a big fan and went hoping the overall spectacle would justify the $45 tickets for the cheap spots on the hill of a Ford Park-sized amphitheater.
The foul weather didn't help. Lightning not only knocked out power to the inlaws' beach condo, it KILLED a young woman jogging nearby on the beach.
Nevertheless, we set out for the amphitheater. The clouds had cleared, and the place was packed.
Considering that Motley Crue peaked in the 1980s - musically, physically and decadently - I figured it would be a sparse crowd witnessing has-been hair metal.
Boy, was I wrong.
For starters, the huge crowd, which I figured numbered well over 10,000, was raunchy but playful. Unlike some of the hard-rock concerts I witnesses in the early 1980s, no one looked like they wanted to kill somebody - or actually killed somebody.
The opening acts - Sixx A.M., Papa Roach and Buckcherry - were entertaining, but it was nothing compared to sonic and visual punch of Motley Crue, which played along to synchronized flashpots, flames and various other explosions. And the music sounded great as well.
Our trio, clad in ponchos with the rain falling again, hopped around on the muddy hill like a bunch of 20-year-olds.
It was great.
Atlantic Versus Gulf
Atlantic - Brown sugar sand. Clear water. Much bigger waves. Crummy fishing, Steep dropoff. Tropical Storm Bertha aided the swells, providing excellent boogie-boarding conditions, although I got owned more than a few times, emerging from the froth to see the lifeguard standing up in his chair to see if I'd survived.
Gulf - Silty river-runoff sand. Hot and nasty during the summer. Warm, dirty bathwater. Smaller waves. Way better fishing. Slow dropoff. Only a storm in the Gulf will provide equal waves, although the riptide can be horrific.
The Kids Are More Fun
What a difference from last year to this at the beach. The boys, ages and 4 and 6, were a bit more self-sufficient, sometimes playing on their own (with supervision, of course) instead of relying on the adults for their total entertainment needs, although my 6-year-old was a bit too bold in the surf and, like his dad, got owned a few times. The boys also are less fearful of the sand crabs running around, although all of us got stung by the little jelly fish that aren't even in the ballpark of some of the dangerous monsters floating around in the Gulf.
Virginia Driving Is Different
I have a decent sense of direction, but something about driving around Virginia confuses me. Everything seems to go 'round and 'round, and the tall, view-blocking trees don't help. Also, U.S. 64 between Richmond, Norfolk and Virginia Beach can make Houston look like an empty parking lot, particularly on a holiday weekend such as the Fourth of July. Imagine 120 miles of stopped cars, sometimes in both directions.
Gas Prices
I found them to be up to 10 cents per gallon cheaper in Virginia. Why the heck is that? We're 6 feet from the freakin' refineries!
Air Travel
We flew out of Beaumont, spending more on the tickets but less on the parking, driving time and gas costs associated with leaving from Houston.
Continental baggage handlers mauled my new piece of luggage, ripping the handle down to one or two rivets. However, that's my tough luck. A Continental customer service representative in Richmond pointed to a sign indicating that the company was not responsible for busted bags. I resisted the urge to ask her whether she would set herself on fire if the sign indicated that she do so.
So basically they can put luggage in a kiln, hand you a box of dust and say it's not their problem. Seems kind of lame, but I do plan on writing a scathing review in the complaint form the Continental representative handed me.
On the return flight, I got to sit in Seat 1A and witnessed some things most passengers don't get to see, like this crazy exchange of notes and forms that take place between pilots, flight attendance and some guy in a bright orange vest going in and out. At one point, there was some scurrying, and I heard the pilot not a possible mechanical problem. A few minutes later, he told the vest guy that the problem "had straightened itself out."
I wish the same could be said for my luggage.
Here are a few things learned along the way:
Motley Crue Rocks
A brother-in-law dragged me and another brother-in-law to this thing called Crue Fest at Virginia Beach a couple of Sunday nights ago.
I've never been a big fan and went hoping the overall spectacle would justify the $45 tickets for the cheap spots on the hill of a Ford Park-sized amphitheater.
The foul weather didn't help. Lightning not only knocked out power to the inlaws' beach condo, it KILLED a young woman jogging nearby on the beach.
Nevertheless, we set out for the amphitheater. The clouds had cleared, and the place was packed.
Considering that Motley Crue peaked in the 1980s - musically, physically and decadently - I figured it would be a sparse crowd witnessing has-been hair metal.
Boy, was I wrong.
For starters, the huge crowd, which I figured numbered well over 10,000, was raunchy but playful. Unlike some of the hard-rock concerts I witnesses in the early 1980s, no one looked like they wanted to kill somebody - or actually killed somebody.
The opening acts - Sixx A.M., Papa Roach and Buckcherry - were entertaining, but it was nothing compared to sonic and visual punch of Motley Crue, which played along to synchronized flashpots, flames and various other explosions. And the music sounded great as well.
Our trio, clad in ponchos with the rain falling again, hopped around on the muddy hill like a bunch of 20-year-olds.
It was great.
Atlantic Versus Gulf
Atlantic - Brown sugar sand. Clear water. Much bigger waves. Crummy fishing, Steep dropoff. Tropical Storm Bertha aided the swells, providing excellent boogie-boarding conditions, although I got owned more than a few times, emerging from the froth to see the lifeguard standing up in his chair to see if I'd survived.
Gulf - Silty river-runoff sand. Hot and nasty during the summer. Warm, dirty bathwater. Smaller waves. Way better fishing. Slow dropoff. Only a storm in the Gulf will provide equal waves, although the riptide can be horrific.
The Kids Are More Fun
What a difference from last year to this at the beach. The boys, ages and 4 and 6, were a bit more self-sufficient, sometimes playing on their own (with supervision, of course) instead of relying on the adults for their total entertainment needs, although my 6-year-old was a bit too bold in the surf and, like his dad, got owned a few times. The boys also are less fearful of the sand crabs running around, although all of us got stung by the little jelly fish that aren't even in the ballpark of some of the dangerous monsters floating around in the Gulf.
Virginia Driving Is Different
I have a decent sense of direction, but something about driving around Virginia confuses me. Everything seems to go 'round and 'round, and the tall, view-blocking trees don't help. Also, U.S. 64 between Richmond, Norfolk and Virginia Beach can make Houston look like an empty parking lot, particularly on a holiday weekend such as the Fourth of July. Imagine 120 miles of stopped cars, sometimes in both directions.
Gas Prices
I found them to be up to 10 cents per gallon cheaper in Virginia. Why the heck is that? We're 6 feet from the freakin' refineries!
Air Travel
We flew out of Beaumont, spending more on the tickets but less on the parking, driving time and gas costs associated with leaving from Houston.
Continental baggage handlers mauled my new piece of luggage, ripping the handle down to one or two rivets. However, that's my tough luck. A Continental customer service representative in Richmond pointed to a sign indicating that the company was not responsible for busted bags. I resisted the urge to ask her whether she would set herself on fire if the sign indicated that she do so.
So basically they can put luggage in a kiln, hand you a box of dust and say it's not their problem. Seems kind of lame, but I do plan on writing a scathing review in the complaint form the Continental representative handed me.
On the return flight, I got to sit in Seat 1A and witnessed some things most passengers don't get to see, like this crazy exchange of notes and forms that take place between pilots, flight attendance and some guy in a bright orange vest going in and out. At one point, there was some scurrying, and I heard the pilot not a possible mechanical problem. A few minutes later, he told the vest guy that the problem "had straightened itself out."
I wish the same could be said for my luggage.
posted by Brian Pearson at 10:49 AM
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