Category: CREATURE FEATURES (Page 23 of 37)

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My! (Plus dogs and cats)

Retirement is not without Hassles: Emergency Room #808

January 16, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Today started out like any ordinary day. I got up at the same time, did my strength & stretching exercises, took our two schnauzers outside, and started my 3-mile run. It was day 3,671 of my running streak, a ritual that continues to be an important part of my life. Does a mile or more a day keep the doctor away? Well, I guess not.

It was bitter cold for Portland, Oregon this morning with strong winds and spitting snow. Believe me, it was much preferred over the typical light rain at this time of year. I have a 3.1 mile route that I follow religiously every week day. If time is short, I will cut it down to just over one mile, sticking to the minimum daily requirement for membership in the United States Running Streak Association (USRSA). Their website is www.runeveryday.com. It’s the same acronym as the United States Racquet Stringers Association, so you don’t get confused. And no, we don’t run naked – just every day. On weekends, I run with our dogs, sometimes pushing a stroller for aging Tinker, and my wife. We call it our “Schnauzerthon,” for lack of a better word.

I got through the first mile this morning in typical fashion, but shortly after a school bus loading kids slowed me down. While I was waiting for it to pass, I began to feel dizzy and used a mailbox for support. As I attempted to restart, I began to stagger wildly to the right and eventually stumbled. Fortunately, several cars stopped as a crawled to get off to the side of the road. One woman in particular, who I believe was named Amy, was very concerned with my condition and offered to get me to the hospital. There was no sense of numbness or loss of vision and I never lost consciousness. Nonetheless, I had her take me home so my wife could drive me to the Emergency Room.

I’m very appreciative that she stopped, and maybe some follow-up appointments will determine the cause. CT and MRI Scans showed no evidence of a problem, and X-rays proved conclusive that I definitely have a brain and a heart. I spent about 6 hours at the hospital, with my wife faithfully beside. She was much more concerned than me, and was disturbed that I didn’t give her the details of my need to see a doctor until we were in the car. I was pretty nonchalant once Amy got me home – perhaps a bit stunned. My wife was still getting ready for work, so I changed out of my sweaty clothes and waited patiently for her to finish. Once all the doctors, nurses, and technicians converged by my bedside, she was suddenly remorseful that she didn’t react faster. That was my fault, and we learned that you have an hour to get medical attention after a stroke. This was not a stroke!

I was trying to think of things I did differently that might have spurred this attack. Was it the fact that I started drinking tea? Was it because I wore my socks to bed last night for the first time ever? Both are sure signs of old age, but shouldn’t have triggered an ER visit. Maybe it was because I substituted medicinal hot tea for my usual Diet Cokes yesterday and didn’t have enough caffeine or chemical additives? (See Post #806). Could it have been the meatloaf I made for dinner last night? My wife seems to have survived my cooking, and the dogs sure enjoyed it.

The doctor’s solution was to chew a single Baby Aspirin every day. I had already tried switching from Advil to Aspirin, but it led to chills and unstoppable bleeding after a shaving nick. I also couldn’t fulfill my personal pledge to give blood regularly. My personal doctor felt that if I was having the problems with Advil that others were experiencing it wasn’t critical to change. I did not have any Advil or Aspirin as a bedtime snack last night. I did, however, have a headache after the incident this morning, and complained of a sharp pain in my side. A urine test did not reveal signs of several other trips to the Emergency Room – kidney stones. The only other time that I remember was a hard-hit softball to the family jewels. There’s not enough Advil or Aspirin for that!

I will probably run on the treadmill tomorrow morning to relieve any relapse concerns from my wife. It’s always a last resort, but allowed by USRSA rules. At least on Day 3672, I won’t need assistance getting home and no one will have to risk letting a stranger in their car. The question now remains will an Aspirin a day keep the doctor away? When I called my son to give him a final report on my condition he said, “well at least you got your mile in!”

Retirement is not without Hassles: Changes in Habit #798

January 7, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I can’t say that there are major changes in my life, but there are certainly notable changes, no matter how silly or odd some of them may seem. I thought I should make a list of them in no particular order of importance:

I’ve added hooded sweatshirts to my retirement wardrobe
I’ve grown to like Brussels sprouts
Bread is no longer the most important part of a meal
I’m fascinated with genealogy
I don’t have to have popcorn to enjoy a movie
I now order my eggs sunny side up
I prefer staying home
My patience has grown thinner
Colorful socks are my favorite item of clothing
I’m much more environmentally conscious
I’m thoroughly disgusted with politics
I enjoy being around our pets
Material goods are less important
Family is everything
A judgmental person is the worst kind
Knowledge is key
Health is precious
Flossing is essential
Shaving in the shower saves time and mess
It no longer matters what day it is
Recipes are simply a guideline
Reading the instructions saves time and frustration
You can never make too many lists

Retirement is not without Hassles: Game Day #797

January 6, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I got up early this morning to take the dogs out and do my daily run. My wife and I were hoping to get to the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry for the King Tut exhibit before it closes later this month. The pups were depressed that their much anticipated “Schnauzerthon” was preempted by rain and cold temperatures. They are often disappointed in the Portland weather at this time of year. They got a shorter walk than normal between rain drops, and we were off to pay homage to the King!

My wife was willing to compromise by leaving for the O.M.S.I. early so that I could watch Bears football and I.U. basketball in the afternoon. What we didn’t know was that it was $2 admission day pricing and the place more like a zoo than a museum. Parking was way out in the overflow lots and ticket lines were outrageous. We had some free passes for the exhibit but still had to redeem them for admission. When we finally got to the front of the line only a few times remained available to see the popular attraction. We elected to get tickets for next week instead rather than endure the long wait and crowded hallways. It also gave us time to go to Cracker Barrel for breakfast with assurance that I would not miss either game. The only problem was that they were both on T.V. at the same time.

I am hoping that the message that the dogs left when I got out of bed this morning did not apply to my teams’ chances. I was greeted with an unprecedented “poopsident” in the living room. I just wasn’t sure which schnauzer was guilty? Normally it’s Tinker the “Poopingest Pup on the Planet,” but she normally goes on the tile kitchen floor. This particular deposit was made on the dining room rug where younger sister Tally typically plays. She in turn has never gone indoors, but this looked suspicious! Perhaps the “Super Pooper” was being clever, trying to pass the blame? Tinker then proceeded to poop four more times once I got them outside, while Tally went only once. This could have been the result of Tink’s voracious appetite yesterday that included an entire raw carrot. She was supposed to share!

Input equals output! We attribute some of Tinker’s food cravings to the steroids that she’s currently taking. However, she was also never one to pass up a snack or meal at any time during her near 15-year lifespan. We adopted her at any early age after she had been abandoned in the woods and apparently forced to eat acorns. I guess after that particular diet everything tastes great? She always finishes her dinner and then immediately looks at Tally’s bowl for dessert. Tally unfortunately likes to savor her food but somehow they both weigh the same.

Game Day has finally started, and I am busy flipping back-and-forth from CBS to NBC to stay up with the action. I’m not overly optimistic with either of these two teams, but I also thrive on pessimism. Why set yourself up for disappointment? It could be the end of the Bears season with a loss today to the Eagles, but I.U. will have a lot of basketball to play before their year is complete. Both teams are down early as I gravely predicted. I just hope that neither team plays like what I found on the floor this morning!

Retirement is not without Hassles: 1,000 Places #791

January 1, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I’m starting the new year by flipping to the first page of this year’s inspirational gift calendar: 1,000 Places to See Before You Die by Patricia Schultz. I’m going to make this the theme for year 67 of my life, just as I often referred to Route 66 for year sixty-six. I’ve done a relatively modest amount of travel compared to some of my friends, and have a long way to go to catch up.

The first page of the calendar is Kauai, Hawaii, an island that I haven’t yet visited. We’ve been to the Big Island, O’ahu, and Maui, but not to the Jurassic Park-like Na Pali Cliffs of Hawaii’s last true wilderness. It’s on the bucket list, but this year’s trip to the islands is another return to Maui for an auto dealers convention that my wife is attending. The rest of the week ahead includes the Acropolis of Athens, Whistler Blackcomb Ski Resort, Machu Picchu, and Germany’s Cologne Cathedral. I’ve skied Whistler with friends and visited Athens as part of a Viking cruise last spring. Of these five glorious destinations highlighted on the calendar in week one, I’ve only been to two. It looks like I have a lot of living to do before I die.

Today we’ll have a traditional New England boiled dinner to bring in the new year – short-ribs, cabbage, and carrots without the potatoes that violate our “white diet.” For some, it’s also a meal served on St. Patrick’s Day, and known as a Jiggs dinner in Newfoundland. My wife has prepared it for most of the first day’s of the year we’ve brought in as a couple since 2000. We went to Holdfast for last night’s countdown, but she also made us crab legs the night before. It reminded me of the way we brought in the Millennium, our first New Year’s celebration together, with a trip to the Emergency Room. She had accidentally sliced her fingers cutting the crab legs for our special dinner with her two girls, and under heavy sedation when the clock struck midnight.

I’ve spent memorable New Year’s on the ski slopes, Saugatuck, doing a Polar Plunge, in Vegas, on Beale Street, in fancy restaurants, on the beach, at an Austin fireworks show, and in New Orleans, to name a few. One year we dealt with a flooded basement, and last year spent most of the evening alongside my wife at her mother’s hospital bedside. Two of our twenty have sadly been in a hospital. Our dining experiences have included Chez Jean (2), Adam’s Fine Food, The Pidge, Oceanaire, Montgomery’s, Wink, Uchiko, Eddie’s Steak Shack, Jezebel, Castagna, Murphy’s Steakhouse take out, and Holdfast, if memory and diary serves correctly. We are usually just getting back home after an exhausting trip back to Indiana every year, so our last evening of the year tends to be somewhat laid-back. Last night was no exception, as we both were in bed well before midnight, and no closer to visiting these 1,000 desirable destinations.

Retirement is not without Hassles: The Home Stretch #787

December 28, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Today we start our route back home to Portland, beginning in Indianapolis. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were definitely more fun this year with baby Cole providing the entertainment. He was dressed in green-and-white stripped pajamas and a red Santa cap. When I got the pictures of my own granddaughter, Nora, she coincidentally was wearing the exact same outfit. They were celebrating down in Florida, while we all gathered around the 97-year old matron of my wife’s family and 7-month old Cole.

It’s been a memorable week back in Indianapolis, topped off by a visit with my “new” half-sisters down in rural Scipio (pronounced sip-e-oh). (See Post # 786). Yesterday, my wife and I went our separate ways, enjoying lunch dates with each of our group of friends. Then, it was back to my wife’s sister’s house for a pizza dinner and more wine. I could feel the tension of my fateful meeting with the Banisters washing away, replaced with a sense of relief and satisfaction in knowing that I was closer than ever to solving the mysteries of my adoption.

On our exit from Indianapolis this afternoon we’ll include a stop at Freddy’s Frozen Custard for lunch. Steak N’ Shake used to be our Indiana go-to-spot, but they have sadly changed their burger preparation to something less desirable. While we lived in Austin, Texas we discovered Freddy’s that does not yet have a location near our Portland, Oregon home. Freddy’s was particularly kind to our dogs, offering them a custard “pup-cup” that I’m certain they miss. We won’t tell Tinker and Tally where we stopped today. We’ll treat my mother-in-law instead.

The next stop will be Rochester, my wife’s home town as we continue to “Wander Indiana.” We’ll return mom to her assisted-living facility and take down the Christmas decorations that adorn her door. Once she’s comfortable, we’ll drive another hour north to Mishawaka and meet one of my old work friends for dinner at the Main Street Grill, before spending the night at a familiar Courtyard by Marriott. Tomorrow, we’ll visit with my sister and her family in nearby Elkhart, my home town.

My sister’s son and his family is in Disneyworld, near where my son lives. It would be nice to be down there with all of them, but we’ll already be exhausted after this adventure. My nephew’s son Bentley is playing in an All-Star little league game at Disney’s ESPN Wide World of Sports facility. It’s quite an honor for the young fellow, who is apparently quite the pitcher. Thankfully, my niece Kara and her daughter Katie will at least join us for lunch. However, our late parents’ favorite dining spot Michael’s is closed until dinner, and we’ll need to return to Chicago’s O’Hare for our early morning flight home.

Once back at O’Hare’s Renaissance for the night, we’ll have gone full circle on our version of my wife’s Christmas Vacation. So far, everything has gone smoothly, including the mild weather we’ve experienced. Despite the many good memories we’ve created along the way, it’s good to be in the home stretch, looking forward to a Happy New Year!

Retirement is not without Hassles: Lombard Street #783

December 23, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

With plans to be out of town for Christmas, we decided to unwrap our gifts early rather than pack them in our suitcases. One of the traditional gifts for my wife is a Limoges box, dating back to when we first got together 20 years ago. Normally, she has a Christmas display of them, but they’ve been stowed away for a couple of months while some interior painting was being completed in our condo. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago before she finally was able to get the “12 Days of Christmas” porcelain figurines out of storage. This was long after I bought her gifts. As I result, I did not buy a Holiday-oriented box, but rather something for her travel collection.

My wife’s youngest daughter is moving from Washington D.C. to San Francisco in March for a position at Stanford hospital. Everyone is excited about the move, including her Portland-based sister and our aging schnauzer Tinker who developed a special bond with her as a young pup. We’ll be in driving range of her new home, and Tinker may just get to go for a visit.

I thought that it would be appropriate to gift my wife this year an artist’s rendition of Lombard Street, the most famous crooked street in the Bay area. Included in the intricate details is a tiny trolley positioned at the top of the street, affording tourists a view of its twisting curves below. Naturally, I included a poem hidden inside the hinged box:

The Streets of San Francisco

The San Francisco,
Crooked Streets.
Golden Gate views,
And Ghirardelli treats.

We’ve been there,
Together five times.
Twice it’s included,
Tasting Napa wines.

But in the future,
We’ll be there more.
Knocking On,
Miranda’s door.

The Stanford job,
Brings her West.
Closer to her,
Mama’s nest.

Sisters nearer,
Tinker thrilled.
A California.
Dream fulfilled.

Miranda’s moving,
Near The Bay.
But it’s our Limoges,
That’s packed away.

It didn’t appear,
Christmas would come.
So a Santa Limoges,
Seemed rather dumb.

This crooked idea,
Resulted from that.
When you weren’t sure,
Where “12 Days” were at?

Think of your daughter,
Closer next year.
I thought this might bring,
Some Christmas Cheer.

Creature Features: Pet-cation #781

December 22, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

The “Schnauzerthon” is about to begin this morning, kicking off a well deserved 9-days of vacation for my wife. It’s too bad we’re not headed for someplace sunny, but rather the wintry Midwest. The dogs get a sitter that will take them on frequent long walks much like we’re going on this morning. Tinker will be snuggled in her Air Buggy, as we take turns pushing the old girl through the neighborhood. Tally, our younger schnauzer, is secure on the leash, twisting herself around to make sure that her sister on wheels is nearby. There were a lot of runners and walkers in the park this morning, but I was the only one pushing a fur baby.

While my wife gets a vacation, I will enjoy a “pet-cation,” a few days away from dog and cat responsibilities. We’ll leave the eye drops, walks, feeding, meds, litter box, and treats to the pet sitter. However, it’s now $80/day plus tips for this service, giving my stay-at-home retirement duties some value. I could put them in a Motel 6 for less than that, but they wouldn’t be happy with the quality of the towels. I will miss the little buggers while we’ve gone, but I can use the break.

Each night of travel is a costly “pet-cation” throughout the year. We realize that we will never be able to afford extended trips as long as they are alive. Tinker is approaching 15 years old, Frankie the cat is 17, and Tally is 8. By the time my wife joins me in retirement four years from now, probably only Tally will still be with us. In the meantime, that’s a lot of grief to suffer. However, freedom from pet care will allow for travel flexibility and maybe even some last-minute deals.

I suppose that the word-blend “pet-cation” could also apply when we take the pups on vacation with us, as we did over Thanksgiving in our travels to Bend, Oregon. However, we still have the same pet care responsibilities and usually end up paying an extra fee to stay in a sub-standard hotel with cheap towels. The dogs do enjoy long rides in the car. At the same time, Frankie the cat gets the whole house to herself, but no one to clean her litter box. This sometimes means that the whole house becomes her litter box. It’s extra work when we come home, perhaps a bit of revenge for leaving her behind.

Retirement is not without Hassles: High School #772

December 14, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

This morning on my run, I started to reminisce about high school after seeing pictures of a couple of classmates on Facebook. These were now old faces that I only knew as fresh faces. Their features may have been a bit wrinkled but still recognizable. Each brought back a memory, although none of them were close friends or even casual acquaintances. These were the cool, rich kids that lived on the river and were in a class by themselves. Untouchable as far as I was concerned.

It was a big class, over 1,000 at our grade level, in Middle America, the late sixties. I guess it’s top of mind because my 50th reunion is less than a year away. I’m not sure I can handle a gathering this large, considering the challenges with my hearing and vocal cords. I’m curious about all of these fellow students and where they’ve ended up. However, just like in school, there will be cliques of those that have stayed in touch through the years and still live in the community. Some of my closest friends are dead, while others have gone their separate ways. If I go, I want it to be for the right reasons and not just the satisfaction of knowing that my life might have turned out better than some of these untouchables.

It was not their fault that they were born into richer families, and I shouldn’t have been envious. Likely I didn’t know better. I still trying to find myself and that continues to this day. I remember a pair of pants that one of them wore to school one day. They looked like a patchwork quilt, colorful squares of “bleeding” madras fabric. What’s ironic is that the unique material was regarded as belonging to the peasant class of India, but it’s lightweight nature and colorful patterns became popular with the upper-class, particularly golfers in Indiana. It was often sold without proper washing instructions, resulting in the bright madras dies “bleeding” in the wash. It could ruin an entire load of laundry or wash-out and stain your skin in a rainstorm. I had to have a pair of these pants, but I felt like a clown wearing them. It was embarrassing to wear them because they attracted so much attention, but I thought they would make me cool. To make matters worse, I failed to tell my mom about this unique “bleeding” quality, and it ruined many of my other clothes. I wasn’t cool at home either.

The other classmate that I was remembering, his father owned the Goldberg’s Mens Store, a popular hometown fashion outlet where I would buy my Tuffies jeans. They looked even more fashionable when they were heavily starched and creased like the son would wear. He also donned starched white shirts that would show-off his tropical tan after Christmas vacation every year. I was also envious of this, but my tans were the product of staying in a trailer park in Florida, while his golden glow was more likely from an exotic destination.

I probably should mention that he did not celebrate Christmas, along with some of my wealthier classmates.
Their parents were doctors, lawyers, car dealers, bankers, jewelers, other retail owners, and top executives that belonged to the prestigious local Country Club. They would often eventually disappear to private schools, but still included as part of our class in case they ever came back.

I should probably present myself as not totally deprived, just relatively. I did not grow up in the Country Club, but my father eventually earned a membership through his company. He was not the club type, so it somehow became my responsibility to fulfill any required monthly financial obligations. I tried to fit with the golfers, swimmers, tennis players, and even curlers, but I didn’t learn these sports at birth like most of them. Similarly, we didn’t own a boat and live on the river, so I never got involved in the showy Jumpin’ Joe’s Ski Club. However, I did attend basketball camp with them, but we never became close friends. I was probably too intimidated with their projected status.

As I look back, I was too caught up in trying to be something I wasn’t and should have been more content with what we had. I also felt victimized by my nickname of “Smiley” and considered it a lack of respect despite its popularity. I should have embraced it, but instead hated being called by a name that wasn’t mine. I finally escaped the unwanted moniker when I went to college, and later gave the name to our golden retriever. He too had a big smile like Snoopy!

I’ve also considered what life would have been like if I hadn’t been adopted by my loving parents, who gave me everything I asked for…or didn’t. They gave me work-free summers at the Country Club, a college education, an upper-middle-class home, color TV, a sister, fancy pants, church, and patiently put-up with doing my “bleeding” laundry. I lived like a king when I could have been a pauper. Somehow, I never felt like I had as much as the next guy.

Here I am today comfortably retired, and finally doing my own laundry. I lead a privileged life of marriage, travel, family, friends, career accomplishment, love, good health, and life-long income that few ever achieve. I’m sure that everyone at the class reunion will claim the same thing, and I hope they honestly can. I don’t see any point in going to an event to see people from my past that I could have easily made contact with through the years in this age of social media. I figure there’s a reason we haven’t stayed in touch, and unfortunately, some of that is attrition. I’ve attended other reunions, am not exactly a recluse, and consequently anyone who’s interested can find out exactly how I’m doing almost every day by reading this blog. As a result, unless someone other than the organizer encourages me to attend or I happen to be in the area for my mother-in-law’s 98th birthday, I am not going to spend thousands of dollars to meet the classmates I never met 50 years ago.

Creature Features: Dogfather #763

December 6, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Mario Puzo wrote The Godfather in 1972 that became a popular string of mafia movies. I’m re-purposing this story under the pseudo name of “Pup”zo (Or “Pug”zo), as a tribute to my life as the dog sitter. As most are aware, GOD spelled backwards is DOG, man’s best friend. I’m trying to be a better “capo” to my dogs, but I’m still struggling to fulfill the role of “The Dogfather” that has uncharacteristically developed into an enjoyable part of my retirement. Honestly, being the owner of two schnauzers was not necessarily by choice, but rather the fact that I married a dog lover. Otherwise, I would have probably never taken on the responsibility. As it is, they are often my sole companions throughout the day until my wife gets home from work. I’m sure they would rather have her by their side all day, as evidenced by their enthusiasm when they hear her car pull in the garage every evening. In the meantime, they are stuck with me, “The Dogfather,” an offer they can’t refuse!

I begrudgingly take them out at least five times a day, but in most cases I’m tempted get them back inside as quickly as possible, often depriving them of the exercise they need. They’ve learned how to stall. Tinker probably appreciates these shorter outings because old age has made her stiff and sore like her master. Tally, on the other hand, cannot get enough walks every day and mopes sadly to her “good bed” as soon as we gets back. She moves only when she hears to the words, “go outside” and reacts with vigor. Tinker is always near me throughout the day and moves only when I do (particularly if I open the refrigerator), while Tally typically remains stoic and in a state of mild depression. I used to walk them occasionally down to the neighborhood Starbuck’s, but Tinker basically drags herself along while Tally leads the charge. As a result, it’s no longer part of “The Dogfather” daily routine.

On sunny days, I will let them out on the back patio and take them on longer excursions. Unfortunately, it’s often cold and rainy here in Portland and they both hate water. I feel guilty when I’m comfortably inside by choice while they must feel trapped. We don’t have a back yard that allows them to roam freely, and neither are trustworthy enough to let outside on their own. I’m also just “The Dogfather” not the “Dog Whisperer,” so I don’t have the communication skills of my wife. She doesn’t feel like I pay enough attention to them while she’s at the office and is often frustrated that they need so much attention when she’s trying to unwind after a tough day. I can’t possibly fill her shoes as “The Dogmother.” They like her better and compete for one-on-one time with her, regardless of what I do for them each day.

I’ve never been very nurturing, so “The Dogfather” is probably an accurate description of me. Don Vito Corleone was not exactly the epitome of goodness, although he took care of the “family.” I apply the eye drops, pick up the poop, shuttle them to Vet/spa appointments, and take them on car rides. Also, I frequently administer “ham time,” but simply don’t have the patience to put on their fancy little coats every time I take them outside, as my wife encourages. To me, they are dogs but to her they are cute, furry gods and she treats them better. I’m reminded of this poem:

Oh to be a dog

In the next life,
This is my wish.
Give me a bone,
And my own dish.

Then I can snore,
And scratch my butt.
I’d be no pure breed,
I’d return as a mutt.

I’d sleep all the time,
Chew on a boot.
Then lick myself,
And smile real cute.

Woman’s best friend,
At men I would growl.
And when I was hungry,
I would just howl.

My greatest desire,
If I did come back.
Should I be fortunate,
To get another crack.

Just to be sure,
I’d have the perfect life.
I’d want my master,
To be my current wife.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Disney #757

December 2, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I’ve arrived at the California home of Mickey Mouse, while coincidentally my son is headed to the Orlando property. The ESPN Zone that I frequented on my last trip to this area is being remodeled to accommodate a Fox Sports restaurant, as a result of Disney’s latest media buy-out. The Disney ticket office did adjust my ticket purchase, but not to my satisfaction. With hundreds of people in line behind me, it was difficult to push my distaste any further. I settled for the upgrade when I should have stood firm on the bait-and-switch scheme. (See Post #756). It turned out to be $80 more with one fewer day, but the Marriott SpringHill Suites ended up saving me the excess by reducing my room rate (that I had originally booked on points but on the wrong night). In all, I made a grand total of $330 in errors booking this weekend. I checked-in early, made a quick pass through the Park to collect my tickets, and had a couple martinis at Ralph Brennan’s in Indiana. The bartender’s father was from Indiana but we were unable to establish specifics. The Pacers were on the TV against the Lakers in their Hickory uniforms to commemorate the movie classic Hoosiers. She did not know what a “Hoosier” was, so her Hoosier Daddy did not do a good job of educating her on Indiana culture. Believe it or not, there is such a thing!

My wife and I went back there for Bananas Foster later, reminiscing about our Thanksgiving in The Big Easy when we dined at the original Brennan’s where the flaming dessert was originally created. Our hotel is about a half-mile walk from the entrance to Disneyland and not as close as we would have liked. Unfortunately, we only got a half day’s value out of our overpriced pass, so we had to work fast. I flew into John Wayne Airport early that morning, grabbed a Disney shuttle, and stood in line to get my ticket problem resolved. I left our dogs alone at 4:45 a.m, drove to the airport in a light rain, and had my first Diet Coke of the day at PDX. Christmas music was dominant in the Park upon arrival, and I was predictably surrounded by screaming children. How dare they intrude on our weekend?

My wife finally arrived from two days of business meetings and it was time to explore the Park, a mere stroll compared to its Disney World sister in Orlando where my son’s family is celebrating a 10th anniversary. I used the app to download my first Fast Pass to scoot through Guardians of the Galaxy that was once the Tower of Terror. We also enjoyed Soaring that gave us a bird’s eye view of the world. The California Adventure section of the Park was easily doable in a short time, as we were soon exhausted and back in our hotel room “with visions of sugar plums.”

Day 2 we explored the massive Disneyland section exclusively from mid-morning to midnight, using the monorail to get easily in and out of the Park. Dinner was at Steakhouse 55 (formerly Granville’s that was founded in 1955) in the famous Disneyland Hotel, while corn dogs and chicken tenders served for a lower-budget lunch. Our dinner waiter told us that Chris Pratt (of Guardians fame) was hosting the candlelight processional. As one of my wife’s favorites, naturally we watched him do the festivities narration after our 24-layer chocolate cake dessert. My favorite rides included The Haunted Mansion (where Christmas and Halloween collide), The Matterhorn, Star Wars Tour, and Pirates of the Caribbean. We managed to skip anything resembling spinning teacups that might lead to Dizzy-land. The night ended with It’s A Small World – holiday style. After another good night’s sleep, we’ll spend some more shopping time in Downtown Disney before we leave town, but it’s been a comparably affordable weekend for me using miles and points instead of cash.