Drive to Anaheim, CA

Don't you think Anaheim sounds German? It might of been started by some German immigrants or a last name or maybe something like that. But anyway, let's get to the blog.

Victorville had been fairly fun, talking and having fun with The Dodds, Dad's friend, and also playing with kids at our R.V. park and then also doing some errands. But today was a driving day, to Anaheim, CA, where Disneyland was situated. Disneyland! The predecessor of that place that everyone goes to in Orlando, Disneyworld! Mom had been there once, before she was five, but now we were going to the little town boosted in economy by the theme park, and that was close to Los Angeles... which was close to Hollywood, which has all of the awesome star stuff. I was so excited to go, because, you know I want to be a director and actor. This was the place to be! And maybe I'd be lucky enough to appear in a show, be an extra in a movie, or even advertise something in a commercial. I had tried to be in something before, and L. West, a sign guy, tried to get me into a vampire movie but he didn't have the influence. We went in Buckhead to get in a commercial but it was a really rich college where you had A CHANCE to get in a movie, so w didn't do that. So many chances appeared, and even in New Orleans where they were doing a movie called The Hustler but Mom didn't even ask if we could be in. Oh well. Maybe in Hollywood.

We took off from Victorville and didn't care to say goodbye to Chase and Corey, acquaintances of ours we had played with. There wasn't a lot of scenic stuff to do, and it shouldn't of been a long drive, but however there was a lot of LA traffic so along the crowded highways of exhaust and cars of all different kinds, blue, red, colors and sedans and suburbans and trucks and vans and all kinds of cars, we moved slowly along and saw commercial life around us. Nothing scenic or necessarily fun to report. Arriving at the town of Anaheim, in an R.V. park literally minutes from Disney World, we went through hotel chains, large and very good looking, and a cement ledge area with grass where tons of palm trees thrived. I felt now like we were finally really IN CALI, the California we all know with the palm trees, surfers, Disney Land, and Hollywood. Palm Springs we relaxed and chilled out, and did some cool stuff, but in a way it still felt like Arizona. Victorville wasn't really having a CA vibe to it either. But we were finally in the state of fruits and nuts, white signs and palm trees, bald stars and Charlie Sheen's. We entered the R.V. park straight on, with a nice blue walled entrance, and a gold Mickey Mouse upon it. This was the Anaheim R.V. park. We hit it straight on, office on our left, and with the jeep unhooked by way of the Blue Ox cables and the motorhome's generator humming, we then went inside. So excited!

Inside to the right was a little store area, ice cream, shirts, post cards, and cans of soup and stuff like that. To the left was a counter with a girl in uniform. There was all the Disney characters, Mulan, Lion King, Ariel, Hunchback of Notre Dame, Aladdin, Beauty and The Beast, etc, etc. They were posted on a wall, their figures, you know. The girl was large and brown haired, but nice enough, kind of, and she gave us the map, where to park our rig, all the amenities, and they had a tram that went directly to Downtown Disney and Disney Land itself. I asked her her favorite Disney character and she said Aladdin and Mickey Mouse. I like Aladdin too. She couldn't give me a straight answer the first time though, saying she didn't know, they were all great. It's weird people always think it's easier to say "I don't know." I don't know why. Oh wait, I just did it. Oops.

We drove it down some rows, and saw tons of trailers with a lot of bikes and little kids around. This would be fun like Victorville! We saw some bathrooms and a pool on the left, plus some horse shoes. We turned right to the back of the park, where we parked at a fairly nice site, but dang was it packed in! What I mean is it was so small, no concrete we had, just this small green space where we would put our bikes against the R.V., and the actual bike rack when we went to go into LA. The motorhome beside us had rammed us in, although it was shady. There was a picnic table and that was about it. Well, as Mom and Dad did some of the hard work, the sewage and all, as Rebecca got on our bikes and then we went past the pool. Mom and Dad about came with us, but upon seeing kids at the really metal and nice playground, we said goodbye to our parents and joined the posse. Many girls came as we played tag, and I met a guy as I jumped off places and ran really fast, you had nerf guns and we hurt the girls pretty hard. It was a lot of fun, and I had a great time with them for a long time. There were some boring quiet guys who went to the pool, but not many. I played with that one guy and we deflected the girl's with a dinette and metal sprinklers we sprayed at them. The floor was wood chips so it kinda hurt. But then sadly all the boys left so I was alone with the girls.

Those girls were insulting at me and called me weird because I said funny and cheesy things, and made up names like Cat and Miley, names of superstars, and Selena, and it was too much of a coincidence for me to believe them. I told them they were lying for some reason, and when Rebecca said our real names I tried to mask it, "Don't lie to them!" It was reverse psychology.

They called me weird and Rebecca agreed with them. I finally just left and went to Dad, kind of teary and not in a good mood. I went inside and Dad gave Rebecca and I a lecture that Puck shouldn't join into the bullying and we should stick out for each other. I stayed away from Rebecca later as we had some more dramatic moments.

I stayed in the back and her in the front as the glass and plates settled from the earthquake we had caused. We didn't have much food in our store, but at the same time there weren't many good grocery stores around and the traffic was terrible, so we'd eat out today. Getting in the jeep but not totally believing we were eating out, just going out for a drive, we got among all of the palm trees and hotels. We were super close to Disneyland, really only a few minutes away. Some of the "Disney Lodges" included, a Swiss architecture piece that was like a chalet (I can't explain what it looks like but if you go online you can probably examine what it's like.) Also a wooden one that was a combination of an Abe Lincoln Cabin and a lodge at Yellowstone. Others were just regular motels. I couldn't see all of it in the turning areas with all the commercial activity around, but it wasn' like Orlando where it was far away in a swamp, no, it was really in the town. Among the large trees were business fronts and little restaurants, but we didn't pick any of these. We found ourselves continuing among these hotels however, and came into a dark parking lot and a small toll box like building that was at the other end. A large sign said Downtown Disney. Sliding up after going through a gate earlier where a guard let us in, we quickly got out and let the valet man take the car. I grabbed my video camera and stuff, hardly able to get out as I didn't know what we were doing. I did get out, though.

The evening with the sunset colors emerging had a stale and humid air to it, but very mild. I was excited to go into what Dad explained was the adult and parent part of Disney Land, the restaurants, shops, all that. It seemed to me that that was a smart idea on Walt Disney's part. There was a walkway, brick, into all of these buildings,and they were huge large buildings with slick metal and different materials, rock, stone, wood, all that, and there was a huge Broadway in the middle where tons of kids and people, moms with strollers, Dad's lugging kid's hands off, and all the teens with their short shorts and painted fingernails, and the smart phones. On our left by the ticket booth or the valet was a water pool with some little things in there... I wonder what that was. On our right was a large tall restaurant entitled, "THE ESPN ZONE" with panels, some of the bats and heads moving and tilting a bit. There was a basketball player figure, a baseball one, football, and soccer. Then in neon letters way above the door said it and then in a blue circle. We might eat there, and Mom certainly was fine with it (she did so many sports at a young age and also watches all kinds of Sports Center and all), but we decided to walk on a little.

There was some more nice nice souvenir shops, very high roofs and stuff, and on our left was a tiki looking Hawaii building, with little sketches in the rock of animals, and tiki faces that looked crazy. This was surrounded by noises of creatures, brown fake crates and boxes, and tropical trees and plant life. It was pretty interesting. It was the Rainforest Cafe, and before we had gone into one that was really awesome with a fish tank and performances of people dressed up like animals, but for some reason, maybe it was the noise or that it was expensive or not good food the last time, Mom and Dad didn't want to go. After passing a directory we came to a band faced left at the Rainforest and there was a band, guitars, base, drums and singer, rocking out on the black curtain and black stage. We decided that we were so hungry, that it was fine to just go back to the Zone. We walked into the building after walking back, and in there it was loud, with all these sports games bounding around, and also there was a lot of people. It was very dark too. Up high was a hockey players and many T.Vv's around, with to our right it seemed a world away from all these sounds of beer and noisiness, a gift shop with sports stuff, fairly small, with nice music. On our left was in a glass display case the Rose Bowl. We walked to the podium in the middle under two staircases going up, and where waitresses moved and out with plates.

They said like 15 to 20 minutes would be the next available table. Rebecca and I asked if we could go up the two staircases on either side to see what was up there. Mom consented, if we would stay together and come down in only ten minutes. Up there was a huge assortment of video game machines and racing games, shooting, hunting, and A LOT of sports ones. There was dance, surfing, boring golf ones, and so many many different ones like that. All these kids were playing it, putting tokens in, and jumping up and down. But over on the left side away from fuse ball and pool, was a different side of the place. There was an eerie counter and also a balcony where we could look below on the hard concrete floor and bustling families. It had been about ten minutes and Mom appeared in front and in between the stairs, in the lobby. We filed down as I collected Rebecca and were led to our table, past all these rows and rooms of people (they had this much room but was still full?) into a lecture hall like setting, a lot smaller however, with the tables and counters with people on stools going down farther. At one end was 16 small T.V. screens, all showing different sports games with numbers telling the time and all, and one big one in the middle that was hockey. It was epic!

We sat down amazed as they seated us at a table which looked on it on the side. I had to look over Dad to see the awesome screen. I had never seen so many T.V.'s on like that in my life. I wish I had been in a booth where it faces the screens and they actually have a small television glued to the table... but oh well. A nice waitress served us and she wore black... then we ordered. Drinking out of the ice cold water with straw and eating spinach dip, watching some of the games and basically talking about sports personalities and strategies. I went to the restroom, where in the scented loo was stalls that had urinals that had small T.V. screens of games. That was so cool, and I watched it as I thought that people were always bored when they peed... so why don't we do this? Good idea, really.

Back at the table we talked and the parents ate their good salads with potatoes, and I ate my potato with Philly cheese steak. Rebecca had mac'n'cheese It was very very good. But large and cheesy and fattening also.So we boxed it up. We went into the gift shop for a super long time, sadly, where Mom got some basketballs for her brothers that an employee, a girl, who didn't know what she was doing boxed up. Dad tugged the hair of the Rebecca with the jacket and unwashed hair, and then I took pictures of it with my camera at them laughing. That gift shop was awesome, with the golf ball pyramid, football through slinkies, soccer sculptures, and all the other cool things done with them. Maybe Mom took pictures of them with her camera or phone. I got a great blue and white ESPN hat, and although I might not be the biggest sports fan, it was still a great hat. We walked outside in the cool night breeze, the air harsh with every passing soul. Outside Rebecca went to the other side with that water, and they were boats with islands and all in a bunch, looking like brown island kind of ones. There was a pyramid that looked like the Mayan one, pretty crazy. Rebecca gave Mom her stuff, not knowing it cost money, and used the steering wheel on the wall to pilot it. I pretended to be doing it, knowing of the family by us who was actually doing it, and Rebecca took the reigns and "got it through the whole in the pyramid. We needed to leave but Rebecca was so delighted in it that she had done that and played with it, thinking someone put the money in but didn't play it. I didn't want to tell her it was fake so I just pretended it was real and congratulated her on her efforts. Maybe she might find out later.

At home, we crashed, and I let the bed out. Dad informed us we'd probably spend about two nights there, because we'd be going to Disney Land and then move to a park in Hollywood. You could not even measure the amount of excitement I had for the morrow. We were going to Disneyland!

Goodbye for now.

"And Clemens takes up the ball, jumps on his feet, dribbles, and the Swans win 21-15! The crowd goes wild!",

Andrew.

The Trip in All

Wow, this may be the last blog post on the trip, as difficulties have arose so that we are coming home early. It has been such a journey, like no other. This excursion has reached on 48 states, and not just pass by's, but actual long stays with cities and countryside, museum and monument, fun stuff or boring meetings, in these states. We may leave stuff that we wouldn't do, like not seeing the nice stuff in Kansas or Maryland, but that is the magic of it... you can't do everything, and leaving something for another time makes not a whole state exhausted of all the possible activities for you to digest yourself in. I have loved this trip, had so much fun, been so entertained, and been so disturbed. I have also learned bad things, bad words, and things in the real world that aren't so pleasant. We've met the eccentric and the plain, the dull and the creepy, the tall and short, old and young, and poetic and stutter some. This trip has taught me to be all ears, all eyes, and all mouth when traveling America, and the primary lessons learned are probably to listen and learn, pay attention, and look around for the expected and unexpected. The country and world is a lot more interesting than a T.V. will ever be.

If I could list all the things I saw, heard, smelled, and touched, and all the amazing things I thought I'd never see, then it would take me to the end of my lifetime... not trying to brag or exxagerate. I will probably never tour the country again, but if I do, there'll be a couple of things I would never try again, but a whole lot more I would. One of the cool things about the U.S.A. is it is so big, but you only need to know one country and people are generally nice to you; different parts so far away from each other look like they would fit right together too. I mean like some places all around the country just look like Georgia, environment or houses or whatever. What's also really cool about this nation is how freely you can travel, just pick up a motor home, some cash, street smarts, and go. And I hope some of you do do that. Because the world is like a book, and those who don't travel read only a page of it. I know maybe your in a job or have a family, but what stopped us? We had great schools we were going to, Mom had parents that she loved and a family she loved too, and Dad had a dealership to manage, but yet, we just went and have never regretted it, although I did start with some reluctance. I really was bitter, sad, teary, and balling about going. I was mad at my parents. What if they consented and went? I'd probably be in a classroom learning stupid math equations and literary giants in class, or chilling with my friends in middle school, but I wouldn't have the best education in the whole world... hands on. Where you can see, touch, feel, and taste all of the wonders of America, man-made and formed by God. I'm so glad I have gone on this trip; it has given me the insight of knowing firsthand of our states and the patriotism every American should have. God Bless the U.S.A!

The trip will probably never cease to be a part of our lives. People will ask about it, and I'll always remember it, and the 6 living beings involved, my parents, Rebecca and I, and the dogs, will eternally reflect about the journey.

Well, enough reflection... I have to go stand up with my parents, look at all the commercial businesses we're seeing in Georgia, and spend time with my family. Who knows, maybe in a few days I'll see you, reader.

Because.... we're coming home,

Andrew.

The Next Two Days at Victorville

Please read the two previous blog post to learn the personalities, looks, and who the Dodds are before. Only for you to be in-the-know, as people say.

I'm gonna tell you two days, because not much happened in both combined so I'll just give you the dates of the two, first the first day, and then you read it, okay? Good, to the blog.

3/10/12:

I woke up fresh, a little tired from the fun time last night. We had talked and had fun and ate with the Dodd's, their young adult son Michael, Father Ray, and Mother Lesbia. I couldn't wait until tonight and bet it would be even better than the first. In the morning, Rebecca and I walked the dogs, where we saw Chase and Corey. In the late afternoon they had knocked on our door, but we were out doing the errands all day, and at the Dodd's house. We got on our bikes again, and Corey wanted to show Rebecca another friend of hers, also named Rebecca. We had met a few of their friends yesterday, seen 'em pass by and all, but they insulted them and said different things I don't really feel like repeating in this blog post. This was at a trailer before the green lawn of the office, and behind the office small wall to block the sun Dad and I had seen a lady at a counter and then some aisles of stuff, and after to the right a room with a table and T.V. and fridge. She was nice. But anyway, Corey knocked and a man shouted for Rebecca and Rachel. Rebecca, tan and black haired, 14, with a black dog, and Rachel, a mini-mini of Rebecca but Rebecca's age, came out.

I found Rebecca 2 (I'll call my sister Rebecca 1) somewhat teenager-like and kind of mean and insulting. Rachel was fine. After Rebecca 2 picked up the dog poop, we went among biking and Silver Wolf and I( that's Chases's code name) talked before he went off with another teen, named Justin with piercings and all the works. I hadn't even notice he had vanished until later, caught up as we were with the dog tied to the tree by the picnic table and us on the green lawn playing tag. We played two teams trying to get each other, each on either side of the building and playing if they wanted to hide or catch or just stay alive, and I made it up, but it sounded confusing and so we didn't play it and just played tag. I was okay at it but my pants kept sagging. I hid with Landon as he and his brother Ryan had came, and he called me fat, but said it was okay and he was to. Kind of a mean little twirp, but oh well. Rebecca kept arguing and not letting the game go on, saying we couldn't go somewhere and they couldn't puppy guard even though she was doing the same thing. I admit before I had called Rebecca 2 a snake, because she insulted and her words came out like venom to everyone else. She told me to stop and then became relatively nice for the rest of the game, and we talked about different things. Including how to give Rebecca some of her own medicine.

We would run after her like she did even when she said time. I organized it, and am fully responsible. We ran and she tried to get away but we accidentally knocked her down. Reaching our hands out, the bad happened. The dog started licking her, and then it jumped up on her, what people call malling. For a few seconds we laughed at the little wrestle, but then I realized it wasn't going well, her screaming. Rebecca 2 got it off and then we made her sit up at the table and gave her some water. I said sorry about it, but she cried and stormed off on her bike, and I followed behind a little bit. She called me a jerk, said she hated me, and I am very sorry it occurred. I take full responsibility.

We then did schoolwork but came back and played tag with them all around by the parking lot and the trees on the other side, dodging and hiding from people, and then adding on and making the tagged be it with the tagger, with that Justin guy who never talked. We ran, played, had fun, hid in the office, and had a very kid-like experience. Then the end of the day was coming, ready to go OUT to dinner with the Dodd's. You see, the first day we'd have dinner AT the Dodd's, then the 2nd night OUT with the Dodd's, and the third AT our motorhome. We dressed more casually this time, without any of that fancy-smancy. After getting in the jeep, we called them, having decided to go to a pizza parlor they frequented. It was in a commercial village and we parked in front of it, besides the Dodd's car. It would be great to see them again after the awesome first night. Inside was a bustling restaurant with tables full of people and a long hallway to restrooms, with wood and menus and slates and cooking noises and smells galore. We arrived before the Dodd's and got an 8 seater table as we looked at the menu. They arrived. We talked and over the hub-dub of all the people tried to welcome them. I tried to look at the menu, but got preoccupied by talking in the conversation.

When the waitress came the first time I was the last to order, and then I made him wait until I came back. I just hadn't had enough time, had gotten sidetracked, and then I finally decided spaghetti and meatballs, 'cause I couldn't find something I wanted to try. Here's some advice: Don't try new things at a Italian restaurant. Their all so cheesy, and they have weird names and words ya don't know, so it's fine if you just stick with what you know. But anyway, I ate that and mostly talked to Michael and Mrs. Dodd through the night, because Dad and Mr. Dodd were both on the end towards the other patrons. Let's show an example for a moment of Ray's humor.

The waitress asked, "Any questions?"

"Yeah," Mr. Dodd stated. "Why do we drive in parkways and park in drive ways?" He then smiled, and she chuckled loud.

Lesbia and Mom talked about the trip a lot, homeschooling and she mentioned my blog a bit. Mrs. Dodd wanted an example of how I wrote. I pulled up a recent blog post., coincidentally one she had an interest to the subject of (the post about the 6th Floor Museum in Dallas about Kennedy's assassination) where I wrote this:

"BAM!

Two shots were heard as a motorcade passed by on Dealy Plaza, carrying the then president of the United States in it's many seats. John F. Kennedy, a 3 year (so far) president had been campaigning for Texas, and it was very vital for his reelection. His wife, Jackie, saw him lean forward in his seat, and blood splatter as red as the colors on the flag of USSR that JFK had dare defy in the Cold War. The beloved president, that had urged the Peace Corps and helping the poor and troubled, even though controversial and had some mistakes in The Bay of Pigs Invasion, was killed? The people of Dallas that day had come thinking they would see a good speech by the Democratic Former Navy Officer, origins in MA, but instead, a shot, a lean forward, and an end to the good cheer of the day, or the week, or even the month. Crowds ran and fled, fearing more shots from the unseen assassin. A daughter and mother tripped and made their way through the running crowd, no strings attached, everyone just trying to get away safely with their friends and family, with little to no accord to other strangers in the large mass of people. Meanwhile, Agent Youngblood, valiantly and bravely, shielded LBJ and Lady Bird's bodies with his own, saying to get down and to the driver to drive. This was on November 22nd, 1963. A day the world will never forget."

This is the part I showed her. She was very impressed, and asked, "This not copied from someone else, no?" I replied no that I would plagiarize unless I cited the source, and she said JFK was a wonderful president and that it was terrible he died. He's one of the best, she said, starting the Peace Corps that she worked in.

Michael listened as Rebecca showed him uncountable amounts of pictures, and they talked about the trip a lot more, and animals and "What's your favorite BLANK", stuff like that. She was a chatty chipmunk if she wanted to be, but didn't join in the political discussions of the previous night. The food arrived, and it was pretty dang good. I liked it and the spaghetti didn't stand a chance against my violent appetite. After we ate I went to the restroom a couple of times, to pee as i had drank a lot of water. In there a guy came out asking me if I had done something, in the bathroom. I had been waiting my turn and said no. Inside, there was tissues everywhere and bloody stuff galore... someone had had a bloody nose... or there had been a murder. The guy showed a waiter or manager the damage and then left. I went back to the table where we were leaving, and decided to meet up at an ice cream place. Rebecca told Michael about my past girlfriend and he asked what she was like, being really annoying and giggling about it. As we exited after paying, we figured we'd spice it up a bit. Michael went with Mom and Dad and Rebecca, and I went in the large mini-van of the Dodd's.It was night time and I sat in the back seat talking to them. They talked about books, and that Michael before high school used to read books ALL the time, and he was a great reader like me. Then Mr. Dodd said that he could speak Mandarin and it was good to learn new languages. It was good to have this one-on-one time with the couple, no Mom or Dad to comment or talk too.

We arrived. There, everyone got an ice cream as Michael was disappointed his friend wasn't there (he had told us that before we arrived) and I questioned him about this girl he wanted to see, laughing and doing the same thing he had done to me. H e didn't like it much. I didn't get an ice cream, and asked for a banana which they use in the split, and only a banana. Then we said goodbye to the Dodd's after sitting down and eating our desert and banana. This was my least favorite night with the Dodd's, only because it was the shortest, and I couldn't hear them that much. It was still really fun and interesting though.

We crashed in our beds and snoozed.

3/11/12:

Today was the day that we were gonna host the Dodd's, and after their great hospitality the first night, we had to work hard to impress the family. This was really boring, tidying up and all, dusting off and closing up my bed, putting junk in corners and moving my stuff away and cleaning off the couches of barbies, making Mom and Dad's bed, the whole 9 fields. I hated it. But it must be done. I wonder about many things like that. Why is our society is so fixed on getting ready and making things look good, their clothing and their house, for special visits. I know you're supposed to but shouldn't people judge someone on how they are on the inside, not how much their home or they look? I know sometimes we judge people not like that... if they look like something we think that's their personality, but I'm advocating we stop doing that. I don't know why I brought this up but I think it's pretty silly to look nice for some people almost saying that "We think you'll judge us by our home and clothes so we're gonna make it look wonderful", you know? Well, maybe you think it's fine t do that. I'm not sure though.

But anyway, Mom let Rebecca and I leave and live for a little while they did some more. We biked to the right side of the office with Silver Wolf and Baby Blue, Chase and Corey. Corey had talked to Rebecca about going to meet her friend, beyond the fence to the trailer section of the park. They said they were going and I wasn't paying attention, so the gate opened and they flooded through. I asked Chase what was going on as it quickly closed, not giving me enough time to go in. He told me, and then I was really mad and scared about Rebecca's safety. I should of realized what was going on before letting her go! Why didn't she reply? We're in CA, land of weirdos, what if something bad happens to her? I called Mom in a little shady area farther on, and Chase did trick moves on his bike on the ledge. Mom told me that we shouldn't of separated and I gave her what I did. As I hung up with her telling me to find them, Chase said I could go in through the pedestrian entrance, and it didn't have a lock or code. He opened the door and went through and then I did, and then we zoomed up the hill with the wind in our faces as we got to the other place. He led me to the house and I thought I saw an ocean, but it was just a mountain with forest in the morning shadow making it look blue. Rebecca had done good and hadn't gone in, and I told her we had to go home. We said goodbye to our friends and left. Then we helped out Mom some more.

After that, as we sat out getting the grill out and all that, Dad said we couldn't eat inside without any table besides the two seater that always had computers and printers and stuff on it, so we'd ask the people at the office if we could use one of their reception ones... oh and the chairs too. We went over in the jeep, and parked it outside of the ramp tree area behind the office where the reception hall comes down to the entrance. We went in the office, followed the nice lady who let us do it back into a room where they were, and then we opened that door to the courtyard with the pool, and put the metal chairs in the car. While doing so an African-American man came and talked to us. Dad had talked to another of the group he was in... a club where all these black campers go and camp out somewhere and have events. Nobody can get in except African Americans. I know we did a lot of bad stuff to those people in the past, segregating them and all, but why doesn't anybody talk about that they're doing it now to us?

Never mind political conversations aren't for me.

We then went there and set them up. Coming back to the reception room, Dad and I, in gloves, took it to the car. What now? Mom came also, and we decided to put it upon the bike rack at an angle and all we had to do was hold it propped up against the back column. It was kind of scary but Dad went slow and we balanced the dark chestnut wood table up against it well. Mom switched with Dad and he did it, but it was still kind of fun. We laughed and jokingly made fun of each other. We were probably a sight to see, cruising along and being all redneck-like. Then we went along farther and placed the table, after going from the back of the motorhome, and spread it out with the grill on the picnic table. It was long. I then went inside and helped out more, and and some little kid who was tan and on a red bike with black hair from the trailer behind us and to the right came and talked to Mom. Chase also did and they all talked to me, cute little kids they are. The Mom signaled to me as I played tag with the little kid after he pressed buttons on the outside of our R.V. that Jonathan (for that was the small child's name) had surgery and he pooped in his pants without knowing it. I raised an eyebrow but tried to look like I understood. If he smelled like he had gone then just tell him to go wipe up. People made fun of him and called him poopy pants in his grade. It was kind of sad, his little problem.

But weird too.

I have a really bad nose so I tried to be behind him and sniff his butt, but I didn't smell anything. I asked Rebecca, who has a good nose, to do the favor for me. She was repulsed by the idea and said no she would not sniff his butt, and so we left it there. I went inside, and Jonathan waited outside.

I had taken a shower after sweating outside and so Mom handed me a filthy and out of date sack of potatoes that had gone rotten. I touched the green oozy and gooey stuff, and it was very terrible and slimy. Putting it in the dumpster by the building with the bathrooms, I gained an possy of little kids, Jonathan and a few others that were his friends and brother. They asked little people questions.

"Why ya doing that?"

"Is that the grinch?"

"Your hands are green? Why?"

They can be annoying, but I love inquisitive munchkins. They are so funny. They say why so much though. I asked Chase, who was there, if he could get a key to open the bathroom. I wanted to wash my hands without having to touch the R.V. door. He went to his camper on the other side of the dumpster. He opened the door and we both washed our hands together. After that I thanked him, went inside the motorhome, and washed my clothes and my body with soap again, to get all that disgusting spud off of me. It was very gross. So, after that, those kids stayed out there, and we had to keep them occupied as Dad made the burgers and we set up the chairs. Chases's cousin, on their bikes, who had spiky hair and I'll call him X, and black hair and skinny and like 14, had a MONSTER energy bottle, and he played with the little kids. A lady pulled Dad aside, the same one who said Los Angeles was crime-rodden and we shouldn't go there but San Diego was great(it should be the opposite, LA having so much Hollywood and San Diego with all the gangs) and that if we went to LA we should be really careful. But what did she say to Dad? She told him to be careful with that boy, he was a trouble maker and ruined things and was really mean... man was that lady a speaker of bad omens.

Dad heeded her word, but didn't banish the boy or anything like that... no, it was quite the opposite. Without telling why, he made him his friend, asked him about the part of AL where he was from, and made him put the tarp on the table and do most of the work. Meanwhile, the little toddlers wanted to play tag, and Jonathan was it, and so I told Chase to go easy on him. We hid behind an open bay door, pretended to be sad when he tagged us and let him run well and be really slow, and then when they got bored and started crying about that we played knights, and the toddlers were some knights and me a dragon, or X a wizard. Rebecca was the princess, involuntarily, and tried to quit the stupid game a lot by going inside. Those kids really kicked and punched as knights, and honestly the small kids really hurt me. One by one they picked off, X and Silver Wolf, and then some of the small children, all except for Jonathan. We told him as we got our clothes ready for the Dodd's arrival that he couldn't stay with us; friends were coming over. It was heartbreaking to see the young 'en's reaction, his disappointment and dis-understanding. His grandmother told him to come, and yelled at him and told him to come inside. But he would come back and I'd go to the door and explain and then they'd take Jonathan come back outside when he ruined our alone visit with the Dodd's. He just doesn't understand.

SUSPENSE RINGTONE!

Ugh!

A van pulled into the front driveway of the motorhome, and the windows were shaded. Was this the Mexican drug cartel? Was Dad watching too many crime shows? Probably the latter. The Dodd's came out, and the door slid open with them coming out. Mr. Dodd was carrying some kind of covered by napkin plate. The nice man couldn't stop being nice and stuff, and we invited them into our home. They were struck by the two leather chairs in the front, the beige leather, grand window, screened door, and so many buttons, and behind all the furnishings of wood and decorative white lamps and silver holders, and the square design blinds and black trim, with Rebecca's whole granite counter top on one side having a white box and many barbies scattered around, with bean bag holding up blankets well prepared. The wide hallway with marble floor, maple pine cabinets lining the whole room with intricate designs in the woodwork, granite tops and a table on the left and counter on the right with microwave, farther on on the right a silver fridge and to the right some more lush wood cabinets. On your left as you travel, is a wooden doored bathroom, fairly roomy, and on the right a granite sink with a silver shower, also large. In the back is a single beige blanketed bed, and a T.V. as in the front with a mirror on the other side. This is a basic description but before we sell it I'm going to send you a video on FaceBook and the blog which does better detail than I can describe.

Mr. Dodd let Mom take his rosemary fresh baked bread with a wooden plate onto the counter, stating he made it from scratch earlier today! It was crazy! And as we separated the biscuit looking things from the rest, I tasted the great and tough bread. It was hot, seasoned with rosemary and adding a certain spice, and had bumps on it with it behind brown. It was mouth watering, and the butter added the creaminess to the wonderfully baked mass of carbohydrates. I must admit that we probably ate a little bit too much carbs that day.

We talked about some stuff and I sat by Mr. Dodd at the end of the couch as Lesbia marveled at the dogs a bit and petted their soft fur. Mom and her talked about pets, hair everywhere, bathing, and different breeds, as I asked Mr. Dodd about tech a little bit and he told me about how to make robots. Michael looked at Rebecca's barbies and called one of them, skinny pants and purple in his blue shirt, gay. It was weird how frequent they used the word, you know, because I guess they have so many there. I've already said that once. Anyway, politics and immigration was again in discussion, and Rebecca kept pleading for her, Michael, and me to go outside to play football to get out of the conversation. Michael stated he was called a traitor because he took the stance in a debate conversation that they had broken America's law and should be deported, only because he was from Honduras and looked Mexican. That's pretty bad. I tried to follow the conversation, but eventually gave in and went outside. We played in the road, because of lack of room on our site, and in an empty site next to the Omen Lady and a trailer where we saw little kids playing and all these trashy people. I was a bad thrower but okay catcher, and we just did that while Michael talked to me about Alyssa mockingly. I tried to avoid the subject.

Michael told me a lot of stuff about football, not being afraid of it and all that. We played it, accidentally got it almost over the wall that separated the road, and then by that trailer, and then we went back inside. In there Rebecca sang after numerous requests for it "You ain't nothing but a hound dog" by Elvis (some singer I don't think you've heard of, he's not that famous) and it was okay, but she made it all nasally and trying to be like Elvis that I think she has a better and clearer voice than that. I even hummed a few lines of, 'I'm a Believer' by the Monkeys. They enjoyed both of our performances. Well, Mom had the veggies ready for us and Dad was outside doing the burgers, and then Michael took them in where we could eat them. We all took plates, buns, and doused are cut up and then cooked cow in ketchup, lettuce, tomato, and onion. With napkin rags and waters, we went outside at the table. Nicely Lesbia insisted on placing us against the other person's fifth wheel (as the table was situated there) making her in the sun, but she said that she was tan and so it was no trouble to her and Michael and Rebecca sitting there. Ray was on one side and then Dad was also with him and me too. I talked to Mr. Dodd as we violently ate our burgers about the writers of the science fiction, but he pushed it away, probably thinking I was annoying. He did repeat that San Diego stealing bite bit, which was weird as he had done it two nights ago? Did he forget?

The wind blew like a tempest, taking up plates and bottles if we didn't hold them down. The hamburgers were really good however, although messy and getting food on our mouths. The hard and juicy beef, the fresh veggies and tasty onion and tomato, the zesty ketchup... mmmmmm... good!

We put stuff in the trash can but the powerful wind knocked it out and flew it up into the air. We got it up and took it inside, wondering why the usually mild and windless Cali was not being like that today. We got inside where Mr. Dodd gave Dad a beige folder that said in pencil "Japanese through Concentration." He said it was about an American Japanese person who was in a concentration camp in Arizona and stuff, and he wrote it for a paper in the 70's. I have read it and it's very good, but sad and powerful and moving at the end where he goes through so much just because he's cross-eyed. After that, we sadly said goodbye to the Dodd's, after a fun 3 night visit. They were super nice, awesomely funny, and great conversationalists. Lesbia was a great cook and very kind, Michael was casual and comical, and Ray Dodd was interesting, great at talking, wise, and cool. We took pictures outside the R.V. and of different groups, and they left in their R.V. We resumed activities in the R.V. then.

But Ray came back for the wooden plate and I told him as I gave it that he was one of the most smart and interesting people I had met. He said, his large eyes twinkling and his large teethful grin showing, "Well, thank you!" as he left.

We spent the rest of the day playing with those kids and just chilling.

Goodbye for now.

"The wisest are the least respectful of others' abilities."Chase Bennett.,

Andrew.

Route 66 Museum, Emma Jeans Burgers, Mom's Haircut, and Dinner at Dodd's House

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!! Dads are so awesome, giving you wisdom and so kind to you, being there for you and giving you advice... they're great. I love you Dad! Hope you enjoy this special day!

To the blog.

The day was the 9th of March. The location, Victorville, CA, a small town nestled only an hour or two away from Los Angeles. The assignment... do errands before going out to dinner with Ray Dodd and his family. Please see previous blog post for background on who Ray Dodd is.

I woke up, tired from the long mass of playing with some children, Chase and a girl named Corey. They had been relatively nice, but not too much, and they cussed a lot, even though they were very young. We did have a fun time with them however, biking and playing a little tag around the office, for that was one of the only green spaces. The next day, tomorrow, would be equally awesome and great.

But first, even though I hate to say it... we had to do some errands of sorts. I know, I know, you're saying it won't make a good blog post. But it probably will get exciting, maybe at the very end with the Dodds. I wondered what they would be like, fun and easy to talk to or defensive and a little mean. And what about this man Dad couldn't stop talking about or telling stories of... Ray Dodd. Such a striking yet simple name, that I pondered at the man behind it. What did he look like? Dad said he was tall and skinny, but really skinny and tall or just moderately? He said he took a long time to answer and was very smart. Was he like a grandpa, teaching you stuff and throwing out intellectual number games? You know what, I was going to quit contemplating about the guy and wait 'til I saw him later in the day. However, my curiosity was overflowing.

We woke up in the morning and got dressed after showers with no knock on the door by Corey the cusser of Chase the Cocky, thank goodness. They must of been at school, for on the previous day they had mentioned something like that, asking us what time we got out of school, thinking of us new residents. Mom's hair was long for her now, so she wanted to cut it, and advised me to do the same. I had to keep my promise of the whole time in CA of not cutting my hair until we got to like another state. But anyway, we drove into the little town.

The economy had hit it hard. As Mom made an appointment of a hair cut at 1:30, we looked at all the closed stores on the sides of the street, and honestly gasped as we saw all the gas stations and hobos in the place. It probably wasn't the best place to live or go to school, but it must work for the Dodd's. I asked about them as we drove, and Dad stated Mr. Dodd was a teacher of sorts, in technology, and even video taping. Even from the beginning of the trip, Dad had said we would see Dodd in Cali, and an image started forming in my mind, and then shaping and shifting. But anyway, online Dad had seen a Route 66 Museum, which had some artifacts of "America's Main Street." The road passed through Victorville on it's end in Los Angeles, and so they had a museum with all the cool artifacts in the small town. We came up to the small building, right on the street with a cool blue sign that was high in the sky and some cool stuff outside, like an old gas pump. We parked in an alleyway on the side of it, and then walked into the fairly large brick structure. This was going to be fun, probably, but I wasn't really feeling in a museum-like feel at that time, and I wondered if this small place would be worth the money, like Patton.

As we walked under the huge metal porch roof and went inside I felt strangely like The American Pickers on History Channel.There were gas and oil signs everywhere, with holes and scrapes in them but still awesome. There was a black rope over some stuff and display cases and ledges where stuff was. To our right were postcard hangers, t-shirts, hats, souvenirs, and other sorts of memorabilia with like key chains. Then we had a square counter with a lot of ladies and a cashier, who said that the museum was free and they were very nice with my questions about the famous road, and also the people that came down there to get to CA, and the terrain it went over. And to my left behind that rope was a mini-trailer, which I would only notice a little bit later. We talked to them and my seasoned parents shared memories about the legacy of Ole 66, just one 6 away from the AntiChrist's number. After that we kind of of just drifted around some. Mom and I took a look at a cool small trailer some old people had used to go down in, oval like and white, with a small bed and sailboats on the snug walls, with it pulled by a car and outside on one side all these cans and cooking ware from long ago with a table and curtains. It was a unique rig, and Mom took a picture of it.

Suspense ring tone!!! That was what I got from Mary Beth and Sara in the museum, and I was very annoyed at them constantly texting me as I moved down some clothing ware of the time period and small cut out street signs. I saw Rebecca doing something in the cut out door to the left in another room, where the lady had said you could get on a Model T Ford... probably the only place where we had been encouraged to do that. I looked at the map of the few states that the road was in and then after that went to the right, where a small movie in a theater was. It wasn't much and was really small and also like Patton's had no panels, just small paper sheets where all the stuff was, but the people here were nicer and it was awesome to see all these bits of history. There were also books on Route 66 in a bookshelf beside the movie screen. I couldn't believe it went through so many states, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, with Kansas only having like 13 miles and Arizona a total of 385, the least and the most. All 8 of the states counted, that's a total of 2249.1 miles. That's a lot of feet!

I went to the Model T, and saw the large black car with big wheels and a weird animal cushion, plus a straight stick metal steering wheel with a ten year old girl in it. My sister. Suspense ring tone! Choo-choo ring tone! Calypso ring tone! Why can't you guys shut up ring tone? I turned it on silent and then got in the car too, up a steep ladder. I remember a generous quote from Henry Ford, "You can have your model T any color you want, as long as it's black."

It was not really comfortable, the whole wooden thing creaking and cracking. I pressed my feet on the lever and my hands on the wheel later as Rebecca left and Mom came, although I had to take so many pictures that I goofed around a little. They probably weren't the best pictures. But anyway, I got down and went around the square room which surrounded the car. It was really awesome to sit in one of those and all. Around were more oil signs, of course as Route 66 was an automotive highway, and also cool old and colorful gas pumps, not flat and square like today but skinny and oddly shaped, with cute logos on there. I wonder if in the future people will look at our stuff and think it looks weird compared to the same product in their time. After I looked at that I looked at a contraption to the right of the door, some cool grey large thing, that was an old factory enigma code machine, that did all the electrical stuff! It was so large and bulky! I loved going into this museum, as I do with antique stores, because I just love to see the materials and stuff that people used long ago, and I also like to hear how people lived in the olden days. But anyway, I then got Mom and showed her it, beside the table with some old photos. Then there was a door in the right hand corner on the same frontage, as in front of the car. I went through here into two other small rooms.

They were full of photos, old T.V.'s, and counters with binders that must of been containers for old research and data papers. There was another T.V. on showing some researchers doing stuff about Route 66, but like the other one I didn't spend time to watch it. There were several men in the other room so I didn't want to bother them. I had seen them earlier by the factory electrical thing. After going to the small museum that wasn't actually that good, I crossed over to the gift shop where I got some stickers, Dad got a white hat with a grey mileage chart and then on the other side a list of the highways and the cities it hit, with Route 66 and the American flag, stretching all the way to the cap area, white with red trim and blue too, and on the back a saying saying "The American Road". It was a super cheesy and weird hat, but Dad loves it A LOT, so I guess that's all that matters. Mom got some stuff and then we left the shopping spree and put it all in the car. We then rode up the hill some and then came in at a burger joint, even though I was working on being in shape, called Emma Jean's Holland Burgers on a hill with a Route 66 signs and some glass at the diner. A nice man talked to us out front as we went in the classic diner, with an ugly waitress with a baby blue and red skirt and a bar table, and some booths. Mom wanted the food to come out quickly after we ordered so she could get to the hair cut.

She didn't want to be late.

Dad got a cowboy burger, and Mom a salad of sorts with Rebecca a hot dog and me a small burger. It was really good and we met Brian, who's parents started it. Across the wide highway was a mine or truck company with red gravel and stuff, which was our bare and bad view across the way. Well, Mom rushed us and so we got in the car and dropped her off at the place, a hair salon in the middle of a commercial village with a liquor store close by. We dropped Mom off and then went for the car wash. Why were we going there, you may ask? Well, even though we had just washed our car in La Quinta at the last R.V. park, at Joshua Tree National Park area there was a lot of dust and so we wanted to wash it all off. And at an R.V. wash as we sat at the large place outside by the tables I read my Ireland book, about Ronan's mother being Catholic and wanting a Christian story, and so he did one about his past. It was like the last one, very well detailed and poetic, and interesting about Patrick's life, fiction and fact combined with the whole pushing the snakes out, how he in a cave banishing the devil knocked a snake all the way to the Dublin port where it told no other snakes to come to Ireland. Ireland has no snakes now.

Then in a bad part of town we stopped at a ledge while they cleaned our sparkly and polished car, and I read and read and then jumped in it and we rode off back to the haircut, as it had taken like an hour. Dad was in a weird quiet moody mode as we went up neighborhoods to pass some time, seeing little shabby houses. We then parked in front as the ladies went in, and ladies messed with Rebecca's hair and stuff. I came in to tell them to come on but they tried to cut mine, the tattooed weird haired people. We then left to go to home, and put on an ample amount of good clothing and perfume (for Mom) a dress for Rebecca and brushed hair, jeans for me with a collared shirt and Dad collared and khaki. What will the Dodd's to be like?

We drove to their house as the sun came down from the sky and went to where the sun goes after the day.

At that time, Mom realized that it was Aunt Linda's birthday, that's my great aunt we saw in Ohio in the first half of the trip. It was 6 our time and 9 hers, which was late, but we called her anyway, and Mom talked to her first, then Rebecca telling her about Palm Springs, and then I talked to her. However, at that time we entered a subdivision where the Dodd's lived, on the street with a lamppost and a brick adobe structure. We parked in the driveway and Mom said I could talk to Aunt Linda while they went inside. I was sad I would appear at a different time and kind of be rude to the Dodd's, but I enjoyed the long talk with my Great Aunt, about her birthday and the trip, as she said we were the first people to call her that day! Anyway, I walked into the Dodd residence in the dead of night, with nice plants by the door. Above the door was a small sign saying "LA DODD" probably being The Dodd's in Spanish. They WERE in California so it was probably a Mexican or Spanish architect. I knocked and was greeted by a small and short haired tan woman, Mrs. Dodd. She was very welcoming and Mom asked for the restroom as I took in my surroundings.

In the middle was a a fireplace to the left, and a couch up against it and also some nice comfy chairs. Then behind a small break off wall decorated by Mother Mary's and other angels, Catholic symbols. There was a long rectangular table, and then behind the portraits and pictures was a screen porch, where in the night I thought I heard a grill. To our left was a hallway where Mom had gone to the restroom, with room doors by it and on the wall that connected to the entrance. I would go over there later. Then there was to the right another break off wall with some more symbols, and I'll describe what was over there later. It wasn't a huge house, but it was snug and very nice. I didn't think Mrs. Dodd would look how she looked, and also didn't know that SHE came from Honduras. I just didn't do my homework well enough. And then... I met Mr. Dodd.

HE also was not what I expected. He was tall, for sure, and broad shouldered and sturdy like. And his crisp grey hair was shaved back to the top of his head, giving him a distinctive like look with his brow. His eyes were wide and inquisitive. He wore a sweater that night, khakis and those slip on shoes. He said hello to me, commented on me being in the car, and was very nice and kind. Mr. Dodd was truly a unique figure in appearance and character. I would enjoy having conversations with this interesting man for the next three nights. I shook his large hand, and felt the steadfast shake, a mark of character if they have a firm handshake, my grandfather once said. I wondered why I had thought him black haired and younger, because it was Dad's friend and Dad himself had white hair, and so.... sometimes I just assume a hair color or appearance without even knowing the person's look. Whatever. Anyway, we filed toward the kitchen to the left, Dad and his old acquaintance talking all the way.

"So Honduras is a democracy, right? Corrupt?" Dad asked as we went to the island in the white cabinet area on the right of the suburban house.

Ray Dodd answered. "Yeah it seems all South and Central American countries are." He didn't do that methodical waiting to answer thing like Dad said but throughout the night he would teach me many things about science, tech, politics, and history.

Lesbia (yes that is her Spanish name) Dodd asked a question of Mom and Dad. "How are the babies your sister got doing?" She made some Honduran food we would be eating that night, some wheat flour tortillas, kind of stale and tough, with a frying pan and stuff.

"Yep, their alive and well. Daniel is 20 now and Joshua is 18. He has a Facebook page, so maybe if Michael wants to connect with him... they'd probably get along great." She'd say this later to the Dodd in question, Michael.

Where was he? I looked left at a sole couch and a T.V. up against the wall. Setting my hardback book (about all the presidents) I had gotten at the library in the R.V. park  with a key (but I left the key in there and it locked so I had to ask another from the office and then give her key back to the very nice short brown haired lady) and then carried around at the car wash and the haircut. I placed it on there as Lesbia Dodd spoke to me.

"You can play video games, if you would like." Her Honduran accent was noticeable to my ears.

"Oh no, I'm fine. I don't really like video games."

She was taken aback and her eyes widened.

"You DO NOT LIKE VIDEO GAMES? And you a boy of 12?"

"Yeah, I do not enjoy them. I like to play outside and talk to people."

             .                                                    .                                                            .

Rebecca and I stood and let the conversation roll, but Lesbia put it on automatic and could leave and then resume cooking in a moment when the sauce was done. We went into the middle part of the house, all of us did, as I saw a fat beagle, long and stout, that they called Fred. I would later get Frank and Fred confused and call him both, but it didn't really matter. Mr. Dodd passed through the screen door and showed us the back yard, as the light was just a shimmer left. We saw nice little trees and a grassy lawn, with a concrete on the level of the ground patio, a small roof, grill, and a teenager doing the stuff on the grill. Ray talked a little bit about the area and having a nice house here, after moving from San Diego, but that the economy was really hit hard and there was a large Latino population, and a lot in his classroom. I remembered Dad saying earlier that his students were not very nice to him in the class, even ignoring him while h was talking. But about the teenager. He was tan, crisp close cropped black hair, with brown eyes. This was Michael and I said hello to him. He seemed nice and was just as welcoming, and for a few minutes after I asked Mrs. Dodd if a pic on the wall was her and she said no laughingly about him in football and us going on the trip, about school and everything.

Then Ray took over, saying Micheal could go entertain the folks in the house. They were making sausages, and he beefed them up as I told Mr. Dodd about my movie difficulties, like that my videos couldn't go on the iMovie so I could process and edit them for Youtube. He told me of a few programs that Sony, who didn't use other products that wasn't Sony, could work on. And he even offered to give me one of them that I could put my videos on, and he could process them and then hand me it back with a jump drive. This plan, although sincere, never went through, probably because we forgot to do it. I also told the good-to-talk-to but eccentric and funny man about my aspirations to be a movie maker, and he told me that it was a good profession to go in. Taking a glass plate and placing it on there with his thongs, he took the meat inside for Mrs. Dodd to cook. The people didn't look how I thought they would look, but they sure were wonderful and nice people so far. The food was ready almost immediately after Mom had noted that she hadn't met them before and we talked about some other frivolous updates on people's lives. The food was a long pork, and sausage, and some salad and a cheese layer cake. We sat down with some water cups, and had a nice, casual and tasty dinner.

Michael had told us that he was going to play kicker in Illinois for Rockford in the fall after playing at a junior college. We congratulated him and I hope he enjoys taking the classes while at the same time eating starfish for lunch on his birthday, every morning.

Just kidding, just wanted to tell if you were listening.

Michael was kind of abrupt at the beginning but I was going to like the nice guy. He was talkative but easy to talk to, and confident and casual. They all were. We dressed nicely to impress them, and thought they would be flashing also, but they were a simple and comfortable family in Southern CA, not trying to impress or look awesome. We sat down after seeing some nice carpeted bedrooms and a bathroom with bath, plus Mr. and Mrs. Dodd's room. We did not dwell there long, as it is a very private part of the house... not for kids though. Kids just let their friends hang out in there and they talk and have conversations and they look at each other's stuff... Never mind. It was time to eat finally, and my stomach was truly hungry. I sat on the right side, my back to the living room area, and Rebecca and Michael sat there also with their backs to the wall, with Ray at one head and Dad sitting by him on the one living side and Mom and Lesbia Dodd sitting by each other. Mrs. Dodd sat farthest to the other head close to the kitchen but not exactly at it, and their were three out of the 10 chairs on the table unused, us using seven, all of them airy. I petted Frank as we said their Catholic blessing, a complicated chant I couldn't memorize nor follow. I mumbled the words as best as we can.

After that, they got some scissors and cut the beef and put it on our plates with it! It was an unorthodox way of doing it, but it worked well. It was funny. I got a sausage too, and put some sauce on it, and some oranges stuff that looked cool. It looked really good. We all talked, and Michael tried to get Rebecca talking, but to no avail. She was quieter than a mouse. We talked about South American governments for a while and how it's like to live in CA. Let's drift to this topic first.

"The land of fruits and nuts..." Dad smiled. It is in physical the fruits and nuts of the cornfields and nutfields with grapevines south of San Fran, which I'll get to in a later blog post. But that's not why he smiled and not why people say it.

Mr. Dodd smile and chuckled. "Yep, the land of gays and liberals!" I was shocked how fluently he said the word, without pardoning himself or even thinking that the word wasn't the norm for a couple of kids from GA that weren't allowed to say it and had only heard it from mean bullies at school, never until the last year of elementary school when your peers turned a little more mature-knowing and bitter. I guess in Cali it's the norm for people, with so many of them around. Anyway....

He said it is okay but very expensive in San Diego and crime-ridden. So that's why they moved to this town. It's a beautiful and really cool state though. We stated we probably wouldn't go to San Diego, because we had to save a town for the next visit, and it wasn't convenient. They nodded and Michael stated the zoo was really good. Michael had a way of interrupting his parents a lot and talking about the conversation, and then cutting in to say "Wait what are we talking about?" It was kind of teenager-like and immature, but besides that he was an awesome dude. Mom told Michael about Daniel and Joshua, and after a time of talking about them and their life and the economy where virtually all the adults commented about. (I listened and made little ignorant kid-like questions, but didn't do any speeches or paragraphs.) The banks, devastated businesses, crooked politicians, the whole 9 trees. I focused on the dog trying to lick me, Fre... I mean Frank, who went between my legs trying to get to the food. Mr. Dodd, food in mouth, told him to scat. And what about that food? The pork was salty yet subtle, and the oranges juicy and fruity. The sausage was spicy and required a lot of water. I tried to ration it, building up the courage to ask to get some more. I was a little too polite for them, asking when stuff, and decided later with these casual people to loosen up and be a little more fun and regular.

I did ask where I could get water, and she said that I could get some water out of the garage. I did so with Rebecca down the hallway and they said a funny joke about her appearance as we went way from the comical people. Michael showed us it in the crowded garage, and we got many of them. It had a car and several other things in the drafty concrete floor. Upon returning I drank the water down quickly as I tried the good sausage and the sauce on the tortilla, which was okay but I didn't care for it. I tried to ask Dad and Mr. Dodd about Honduras a little bit, how Lesbia was in the Peace Corps and he had nothing to do, and one time in a town they came out of a Catholic Church and saw a guy at a hot dog stand smelling really good. Turns out that it was cat, as Ray translated ! Cat, really! At another time when meeting with the lawyers Spanish speaking lawyers sat in a room with Mr. Dodd and Dad, not knowing of Ray's Spanish speaking abilities, said stuff like

"Look at these stupid idiot Americans, he he."

"Let's form a big price for the babies."

"Look at that one sitting at us talking looking dumb.... haha they morons." But Mr. Dodd proved it to them and then they got it for the right price.

This is when we started talking about Central and South America. Dad asked about how was Honduras now and Mr. Dodd said it was still doing it's primary business of selling babies and was a crooked democracy. Dad shared a tale of a bumpy and choppy Airplane ride there, where they crashed on the runway and then flew off again out of the mountains, and it was really professional but crazily exciting. The adults talked about all the Communists helped by the Soviets in Latin America, and about this man named Fidel Castro who controlled Cuba, and the Bay of Pigs Invasion. It was a great history discussion, and they saying that all of them were corrupt with money and greed and stuff. They also talked about Che Guevara, a terrible man, they said.

I thought they had said Cesar Chavez. "But I thought he was a good guy."

That brought outbursts. "Oh no.... he is not a good guy." "NO, NOT AT ALL!" "UH-UH!"

"But didn't he do the whole Mexican farmers rights?" My child innocence and ignorance was beaming out.

"That's Cesar Chavez! Che Guevara was a communist in Brazil."

The names sound the same, they really do.

Well, we discussed the trip with them and about going to the Catholic Missions, and the Alamo where my bike was stolen. Mr. Dodd, as energetic and delightful as ever shared a story about leaving a bike on a balcony in San Diego, and had it there for a few years, unlocked, until it finally got stolen. It must of been by someone who had seen it before a lot.

Well, we all got full and then took the the remainder of the time just stiing with our empty plates, still discussing various things. Then the great cook Lesbia Dodd took our plates and washed them a bit, and we all hung out in the living room. Mr. Dodd sat in a very appropriate and serious chair, although I could see this man was anything but serious. He may have worn off his properness as the years wore on from seeing Dad. He made corny jokes, stroked his face, and was really into the conversation. I found out as we sat that he had studied botany, the plant thing, and that he was going to do chemistry but it was wayyy too complex. It was kind of interesting, I suppose, all about Venus fly traps. I tried to pursue the conversation in botany, his tech class, and their time at Honduras, but it seemed that it kept getting pushed away to different stuff, politics and all that, but it was fun at one time. The dog, Frank, was chewing on this blue rag tied around, and then Michael said "Watch this" as he threw it to Mr. Dodd. Frank's eyes twinkled as he wondered why he was robbed of his great toy, and then he ran full fledged upon the couch where Mr. Dodd threw it to me. I threw it back to Michael but it stopped short to the floor.

Thinking fast, Michael picked it up as the beagle violently tried to grasp it with his teeth. He flew it to Mom. It was like, soggy potato or something like that, holding it until the dog jumped up or tugged. Rebecca and I were poor throws, and a couple of times it flashed behind the couch or hit a lamp. No, we didn't need to wear nice clothing at this house, perfume and deodorant. These people were casual, funny, and down right awesome folks. I so much enjoyed that night with them.

As we settled down and gave Fred... I mean Frank's rag back, that Lesbia was sad had gone to the dog, we listened to the odd but entertaining story of Mrs. and Mr. Dodd's marriage, not thinking they would get married, and then having all their family leave and being alone at this house, and then a priest coming around and not blessing them but asking if they would marry, and this whole weird process of them not really wanting to marry but being best friends anyway... it's complicated and you have to get it all from their lips for it to be accurate but anyway they told us that story. Sorry I can't give you more details.

They then talked about all the boring stuff adults talk about, and so Rebecca gradually got bored. Michael cut in a lot still, and the only interesting part of it was Mr. Dodd saying he made up a story of Mr. Bugalloo who lived on the moon with his family and his adventures, and that Michael wanted him to write down the tales for his children. I bet that I would buy the book.

Michael decided to show Rebecca and I his and Mr. Dodd's office semi-book area. We followed him down the same short hallway that the garage was at, just not on the left side but further on to the ending door. In there was a couch on the left and a bookcase on the right, with a desk and a computer. It was kind of a dark blue in the night, not much light was illuminating through either. I looked at some of the books with fresh interest, all the dusty novels, and a clear contrast between Michael's dark fiction and Mr. Dodd's science, botany, and Star Trek books. I did happen to find Moby Dick, The Little Garden, IIliad, and several others. I thought also that the Star Trek books looked cool. Michael talked to us about a book by the point of view of a demon, by the same author who made Narnia series, and it's called The Screw tape Letters, showing how people are and how they are tempted in an original way without being too preachy. It looked still kind of dark and might be scary, but I have since thought about it and maybe one day I will read it. I then asked a sort of offending question, about Catholicism.

"So do you guys pray to what saints for what sort of stuff?" I asked, after talking of missing church on the trip and the asking of what denomination we were.

"First of all, we DO NOT pray to saints. We only pray to God and Jesus. But they are closer to God then we are, so we're kind of like asking them to ask God it, their like the stepping stones..." He went into depth into the subject. I nodded and excepted the very understandable statement, and through the night and at that moment I was glad to learn more about Catholicism.

Meanwhile, Dad and Ray talked about the auto industry, and Mom and Lesbia talked about her changing her name and American friends asking why she didn't change her name to like Martha. They just don't understand, she said, that it doesn't mean what they think, and that it's the only thing still Honduran about her, her heritage and all. She would even say "It's Lesbian without the n" and she thought why I wasn't calling her by her first name was I was avoiding it and calling her Mrs. Dodd. That's not the reason, it's just to be respectable I want to address adults by their title and last name. That's all.

Michael showed us a video he did with his Dad and narrator stuff about his football team, the championships, interviews, all that. It was actually very cool. It was fun to watch it. Well, I had voided the adults long enough and I wanted to talk to Mr. Dodd about the Star Trek book, so I went out to talk to them. We were about to go, Dad said, and then I talked to Mr. Dodd and had a little one-on-one time with him, for a change. I told him about the St. Louis Star Trek prop exhibit with all the Klingon books and phasers and thrones and costumes, and then he told me about one that he had gone at.

"How do you think we got that 'two finger on each side V hand that Spock does?" he asked me.

"I don't know, maybe because Vulcan looks like V and stuff?"

"Nope, Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Trek, is a jew and saw a rabbi in the temple doing this (and he did the trademark symbol) while praying to God, and so Gene copied it!" I found that very interesting, and us two science-fiction liking fools talked about the awesome episodes and stuff like that. Over the three day period I would ask him about a lot of science fiction writers and if he liked or knew them, Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, and (I don't know if I'm spelling this right) Kurt Vonnegut. He either dismissed it, tried to talk to the adults, or stuff. It's how some adults are, not having real conversations with kids.

Thank you for preparing the awesome food, guys! And your hospitality was unequaled!

We left and said goodbye to them, much to my disappointment, and I couldn't wait 'til I talked to 'em and spend time with them tomorrow. The food was great, the people nice and fun, and I loved that beef pork that we had. I wondered if the best night would be even better.

The first night was my favorite in talking, eating, and having fun. You'll see why in the next blog post or two.

Goodbye for now.

Throw the rag away from the dog,

Andrew.

Drive to Victorville

The reason why we were going to the small suburb of Victorville is simple, but there's a back story too. If I was just to tell you we were going to visit a friend, you would think it reasonable. But there is a WHOLE lot more to the story.

My aunt Denise on my father's side didn't marry. However, she did want to have children. And so, she decided to adopt from a country in South America entitled Honduras. They are one of the number one places in the world for baby adoption. Dad went down to do the dirty work for her, and met up with all the lawyers and such. Now, he happened to meet Ray's wife, who was doing work for the Peace Corps. Ray, the nonchalant husband, was bored out of his mind. And so, he agreed for a price to drive around Dad and be his tour guide/driver/translator/police man. Who else were they to talk to? So, they struck up a friendship, and after the babies were delivered they kept in touch, sending Christmas presents and cards and even though not talking that often and never really seeing each other much, still talking to each other over email. This trip there would rejuvenate their friendship, I suppose. Those Honduran babies are now my very good cousins Daniel and Joshua. But, that is why we were going. For the past few days, my curiosity at what this man was like was overflowing. Dad said he was smart and an intellectual, also very methodical, taking a long time to answer and very serious. I formed an image of a black haired man, young, who nodded a lot and stroked his chin.

We were driving there that day, March 8th. We got all our toys inside and placed the swords and stuff inside the bays, saying goodbye to a few of the full timers that let us see their site, very nice and proud people. It was sad to be leaving this very awesome resort, where we had played and relaxed for three days, done errands, and then went on a hot air balloon, saw all this freaky stuff, and then did Joshua Tree for the next four. I could spend all time in that very relaxing and nice place, with the mild climate, the lean back chairs, the pool, green grass... oh your gonna make me want to go again. But anyway, it was time to leave, for we never stayed anywhere longer than a week and that was the day that we were leaving, the seventh or eighth there. With some tears I made a last slideshow in my brain of our time, and then helped Dad roll the electric cord in by a push down button in a compartment, and then putting the key in and tightening it. After that we undid the water and rolled it up and into a bay, and Dad did the sewage, which I don't want to describe really. We pulled in the slides, in that small space, locked the doors, secured the other stuff from falling (although SOMETHING falls in every ride) and then I slid in with my feet up against the crate on the stuff-rodden table, with my computer.

We drove to Victorville along a highway, and besides forest there was nothing scenic to report. It wasn't a long drive either, going inland. In the town by gas stations and liquor stores, we slid in to a nice R.V. park with stone blue sign at either side, then turning left to go into the white building office. I'll describe it in full later, but it's on a hill with a big tree, a willow. The R.V. park was named, Desert Willow R.V. park, hence the name. Dad and Mom went inside but I did not. I would many times later however. Alright very well so, we parked at the very end in a gravel section, middle row, site 16. After we did all our set up, we talked to a man by the electric cord and everything in a fifth wheel. We had a long back that was empty for the jeep. Mom got our bikes off, and then we saw a few kids by a fifth wheel that had steps and a patio. I talked to them first while Rebecca was inside. There was a small kid on a trick bike, Chase, and then Corey or some weird C name, and she really reminded me of someone who looked like that named something close to her. Chase was small and brown haired and Corey too, and also chubby. They both had bikes and Rebecca and I, after asking our parents, decided to join them by the office.

I was really glad to have met some kids after like no children at Motor Coach R.V. resort.

We came up a back side, where a ledge was, and two sidewalks going up into a middle part, and then stairs to a pool and stuff. But you could also get up this area from yet another ledge. Chase, as small and young as the little boy was, was awesome at trick biking and getting up on those ledges faster than lightning. Corey wasn't as good at it. We got up at concrete place quick and then put our bikes up against a protruding brick wall, and then maybe walked the bikes up the ramp. It wasn't staircase, no, but a ramp, sorry. There was the pool to our left hiding behind a white metal fence, but it was March so I had really no reason to go swimming. To our right, a large tree with enormous boughs and shady branches. Chase got high up, but Corey was the better at this one. We talked to them at several things, and I heard them talk about an offender that was busted and not living there anymore, and shook my head hearing that these small Cali kids knew what that was... because I didn't know until we saw Jerry Sandusky stuff on CNN. Terrible. I tried to get out of that uncomfortable subject as best I could, and asked how it was living here. They're in public school, and they said the word Mexican several times. We then left our bikes and stood in the shady courtyard, where on a far end is a water fountain and a door to a reception hall where people were in. Then if you turn left...

you find some more doors to a restroom and a library, all only key accessible. Then to our left we had a white fence guarding the grass area. It was weird there was this large fence, and you couldn't open anything except with a key. I supposed that perhaps the reason was that there were hobos and criminals in CA, and on a busy street people would try to loiter some. So, we looked around here and then talked some more. These people were nice, but kind of sarcastic and stuff. After taking in the breeze and playing tag, Chase hid Corey's sunglasses in a bush and I asked him where they were, having a slimy and evil excited grin. He showed me and I proclaimed in a devilish matter, "I have a better spot! Follow me!" But then I just handed it back to Corey. Well, we found out about them staying here for two years, and then we rode around a lot more and I asked Chase if he knew what he called his bike. That was at the front of the R.V. It was silver and sharp, so I suggested Silver Wolf or Silver Bullet or something like that. He liked the name and then Rebecca, so sadly, told him that mine was Oreo. I tried to change it to something awesomer but they wouldn't budge. Oh well.

Corey's was Baby Blue and Rebecca's was "The Hot Pink Tomboy". I hated Oreo because my bike was black and white and it was a fattening food. But we rode around anyway. Back at that side of the office, we saw a small kid, older than Chase but younger than me, named Landon who came up and said hi. Corey stated his brother was ummm... I'm not allowed to use that kind of language, but I'll just say she said he likes boys. I'm sure that's not true though. We played with him a little bit, and then rode around with the wind in our faces talking as we went along about school and different kids and stories, going back to the R.V. as the day dimmed and the sunlight colors danced upon a small sky.(forest and gas station signs.) We played truth or dare, spitting out leaves and waving to strangers in cars. They, even though were very young and kind of nice, said bad words and at that point, after we had already gone in a couple of times to relax and get water, Rebecca walked in, not even saying anything to the cussers. I told them what it was about and shortly left, where to Rebecca's delight we watched American Idol. I drifted off to sleep in my large bed after the show was half through.

Goodbye for now.

Oreo... such a stupid name,

Andrew.