The hotel lobby was humming with Australian Air Force personnel. I bet it was just another day in the office for the receptionists at the inn. We checked out and started driving around the base, looking for something good to see. Soon enough we hit the runway, and got out of the car to look at the airplanes. Just as I was taking a picture of a big cargo plane, a vehicle pulled over, and a guy in uniform started asking us questions. Julia told him that she was in the Air Force, and we tried to give a general impression of "sorry, we'll be on our way". "Oh, you're good", he said. "Just show me an ID and I'll give you a tour, if you'd like"
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Oh, we'd like. We hopped in the vehicle, and he drove to one of the C5 aircrafts. He was extremely nice. Classic G.I. Joe who answers every question with “yeppers”. He announced on his radio that he will be busy giving a couple of civilians “a lookie-loo”. He showed us the cargo deck, the upper deck and the cockpit, took us around the aircraft and explained tons of things in great length. If nothing else happened for the rest of the trip, we would still have had our fair share of adventures.
We drove on to Davis for brunch, because Julia wanted to go back to that dumpling place we ate at when we were there for my birthday roadtrip. It turned out there was a jazz festival taking place, so we hung out for a bit at the stages. We also wandered around town, and bought a copy of Gray’s “Anatomy”, the actual book, at a used book store, and way too much Japanese candy at a Japanese candy store.
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Oh, we'd like. We hopped in the vehicle, and he drove to one of the C5 aircrafts. He was extremely nice. Classic G.I. Joe who answers every question with “yeppers”. He announced on his radio that he will be busy giving a couple of civilians “a lookie-loo”. He showed us the cargo deck, the upper deck and the cockpit, took us around the aircraft and explained tons of things in great length. If nothing else happened for the rest of the trip, we would still have had our fair share of adventures.
We drove on to Davis for brunch, because Julia wanted to go back to that dumpling place we ate at when we were there for my birthday roadtrip. It turned out there was a jazz festival taking place, so we hung out for a bit at the stages. We also wandered around town, and bought a copy of Gray’s “Anatomy”, the actual book, at a used book store, and way too much Japanese candy at a Japanese candy store.
Then we drove on to Sacramento and headed straight to the historic district. The reason we chose Sacramento in the first place is that my chiropractor went and told me that he had a great time in the historic district, and although he can be a little outrageous sometimes (“now take off your shirt and lie on your stomach. And it’s not even Friday!”), I generally trust him.
We got into a minor fight over a parking spot with another couple in a car. It’s funny - I really didn’t think it was worth it, I just wanted them not to be dicks. When I realized that wasn’t going to happen, I told them that it really doesn’t matter, and that I have no intention of continuing this fight over a parking spot - therefore, they’re welcome to have it. All of the sudden they backed off too and offered me the spot. At that point it was too late - a third car was blocking them from backing up, so that was that. I guess you can look at it through the New-Agey lens of “address confrontation with kindness and compassion”, which I sort of agree with, but I prefer “just don’t be a dick in the first place”.
The historic district is touristy but fun. We saw quite a few young Hispanic girls coming out of limos, all dressed up, followed by a posse of well dressed friends. This, we learned, was their Quinceañera, the Latin coming of age, celebrated at the age of 15 - three years more reasonable than the Jewish 12.
We got into a minor fight over a parking spot with another couple in a car. It’s funny - I really didn’t think it was worth it, I just wanted them not to be dicks. When I realized that wasn’t going to happen, I told them that it really doesn’t matter, and that I have no intention of continuing this fight over a parking spot - therefore, they’re welcome to have it. All of the sudden they backed off too and offered me the spot. At that point it was too late - a third car was blocking them from backing up, so that was that. I guess you can look at it through the New-Agey lens of “address confrontation with kindness and compassion”, which I sort of agree with, but I prefer “just don’t be a dick in the first place”.
The historic district is touristy but fun. We saw quite a few young Hispanic girls coming out of limos, all dressed up, followed by a posse of well dressed friends. This, we learned, was their Quinceañera, the Latin coming of age, celebrated at the age of 15 - three years more reasonable than the Jewish 12.
We then saw a man holding a sign that had something to do with Jesus. I was in the mood for a good fight, and in fact, I have been reading the Bible - yes, the New Testament, just for events like this. However,I wasn’t sure whether I should actually engage. It was then that I noticed his belt.
- “Where did you get that holster?” I asked.
- “Some army surplus store. Why are you asking?”
- “Did you know it’s from the Israeli army? You see this shape inside the circle? That’s a ‘Tsadik’. It means it’s Israeli army issue.”
- “I had no idea! So you’re Israeli? That means you’re Jewish! What kind of Jewish are you? Are you a Masonic Jew?” (Masonic Jews follow the Old Testament but believe in Christ. It’s pretty much choosing the worst of all worlds.)
- “No, I’m actually a secular Jew.”
- “Secular? Do you know what Matthew said about that?”
Nom nom nom……
- “I’m not a huge fan of Matthew. He made a lot of things up, you know.”
This went on for a while. The problem was that when he answered my questions, he was either wrong or just moved to something else, and I had to stop him, which made him mad at me for cutting him off, so he didn’t want to talk anymore. Between us, I probably lost him back when I said Matthew was full of shit.
We then drove to West Sacramento and settled in the Flamingo Motel. Here’s my review of the motel: it’s fine.
One of our favorite things to do on trips is to watch shitty TV, because we don’t do that at home. So we did that for a while - we watched the second half of “Bridesmaids”. Then we watched the first quarter of it (the movie was on repeat). Then we went out for dinner.
We ate a fancy dinner at the Grange. We had pumpkin soup and scallops and duck and two desserts. It was great. Then we walked over to the Torch Club, where Ian Moore was playing. We don’t know Ian Moore, but it seems like he has a small following in the southwest, and to be fair, he’s pretty good.
It was time to get some sleep, but as we were looking for the car, we were distracted by the local club scene. These things are new to me, like the nightlife of non-white youth in America, so I’m drawn to hang around and observe. Fine, it was me who was distracted. Julia just wanted to get some sleep.
