Hurricanes derailed our Florida vacation plans twice back in November, but we still managed to swing something. Ended up heading to Key West for Halloween with friends, and spent a few days after in South Florida with family.
Key West was for bars, boats, pools, sunsets, seafood, ghost tours, and countless wild chickens. In essence, the parrot head life.
South Florida was for getting time in with the ones I love most, but see the least. Getting to watching my nephew’s personality take shape. Seeing Mom and Dad the happiest I’d ever known them now that they’re grandparents. Attempting to teach my brother how to properly make a drink, but absolutely failing to reach him. Getting to know his partner Olga, and sharing a few late night laughs. Thankful to be able to do these things, faintly stung that I don’t do them enough.
Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes by Jimmy Buffett
Odd fact, I know more words to Jimmy Buffett’s songs than I can even believe. Obscure songs even. Before my family lived in Florida, we’d vacation there, nearly every single year. This meant Dad driving the approximate 1,300 miles from Illinoise to Estero Island, listening to Jimmy Buffet cassettes, non-stop. One man’s hell is another’s paradise I suppose. Gotta say though, it puts a smile on my face imagining my Dad’s state of mind brightening one mile at a time, as the Illinoise winter receded further and further into his rearview mirror, and wearing out those songs about boats, beaches, and bars.
Jacarandas painting our street purple. A first Easter with my Nephew. Yachting on the Intracoastal. Catching the solar eclipse fever. Hikes and bike rides. Cocktails in San Diego. Music in Pasadena. Collecting miles at Disney and Universal. Poolside birthday donuts. This was Spring.
World Sick by The Broken Social Scene.
Finally got meet my nephew Preston in person, just as he passed his 5 month mark. Of course the first thing I did was look him straight in the eye and deliver this classic line from Uncle Buck. I can say with confidence that pictures and videos of his little arm and thigh rolls are no supplement to actually squeezing said little arm and thigh rolls. He’s a curious, handsome, and charming little man who took no time to steal our hearts. Looking forward to seeing this little guy again in a few months time for his first birthday and getting a good look at the Gulf of Mexico together.
Just like that, my one and only brother Joey and his partner Olga, had a son. Turning my parents into grandparents, and me into an uncle. Technically and emotionally I already was an uncle, but this time around it’s by blood.
I’m excited to see our family growing. Excited for my mother and father’s dreams to come true. Excited to make this little person laugh and teach him anything I can along the way. Most of all though, I’m excited for my brother’s future.
Finding direction is a hard thing for any of us, and my brother is no exception to the rule. Over the years, it seemed like more often than not his compass pointed him adrift. But now, now he has his North Star. One that shines brighter and points truer than any compass needle ever could. This thought brings me a lot of peace, and I couldn’t possibly be happier for him.
Welcome to the world Preston James Smith. Looking forward to meeting you in just a few months time.
Family in Florida. Friends in LA. Lazy rivers in Palm Springs. A train ride along the Pacific. A hurricane warning in Los Angeles. Endless bands in Chicago. This was summer.
Wooly Mammoth by Local Natives
Rain and Snow. Hikes and Sunsets. Friends and brothers. Sons and Dads. The Bulls in Chicago and The Boss in St. Paul. Stiff drinks and long division. This was Winter.
“Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen
Few months back, Alexis and I vacationed a week in Florida to spend some time with family. We originally meant to be in Ft. Myers, but Hurricane Ian had other plans. From what I understand, nearly the entire first floor of the condo our family has visited for decades, was under water, and a lot of Estero Island was erased. We came pretty close to canceling Florida all together, but we made some adjustments and saw it through, and I’m glad we did.
We started in St. Pete, specifically to take a boat ride out to visit Egmont Key, home to one of the oldest lighthouses on the Florida Gulf Coast. This is where Alexis and her siblings scattered their mother’s ashes earlier in the year. Although her mom spent her last years in Ohio, she missed Florida terribly. On top of that, she had such an affection for lighthouses, that you had to see her ceramic collection to believe it. Can’t think of a better place for her to rest. We spent the afternoon reflecting and exploring the key for a few hours before our boat had to take us back. A cover of Springsteen’s Atlantic City played no less than four times on our 40 minute ride across the water. It became a bit of an anthem for the trip, as well as a running joke to this day. Before leaving St. Pete, we discovered a strange species of seagull that had a striking resemblance to Danny DeVito, which we appropriately gave the scientific name of Danny DeSeagull.
For the rest of our trip, instead of Estero Island, we stayed at a beach house we rented on Anna Maria Island. We planned on having a good amount of friends and family come visit. Nine adults and four kids. There were a lot of us, but we made it a priority to get a place big enough to keep us all comfortably under the same roof. It turned out great. The kids declared they wanted to live there forever, so we must’ve done something right.
We walked the pier, drank pool side, marveled at lightning storms, caught sunsets, fired up the grill, built castles, dug holes, chased the kids, were chased by the kids, and astonishingly avoided getting sunburned. Not pictured is the half mile long trench I dug on the beach by pulling the kids in a wagon with wheels that absolutely refused to turn in sand. I’ll be damned if I let those kids think I’m not invincible though.
With as much fun was we had, it’s hard to believe we were ever considering canceling the trip. There’s a lesson to be learned somewhere in there. We know we’re supposed to spend time with our family, but sometimes you forget just how much fun it can be. Thankful we could make it happen, and thankful for the memory of us all sleeping under the same roof, together as family.
Marco and Kelly tied the knot. We laughed, we drank, we photo-boothed, and we most certainly danced. It was a fun night and we were thankful to have been included. Although the majority of my extended family lives in Illinoise, I don’t get out that way too often. It was a great chance to make some fun memories with plenty of aunts, uncles, and cousins that I hardly see. From dropping in on my Uncle Vince and Aunt Enza’s restaurant for a quick cannoli, to gathering in full force at my Aunt Marie’s house for Italian beef sandwiches, where Uncle Santo uncorked a few bottles of his homemade wine.
I’m kicking myself for not getting any photos from the day we spent at my Aunt Susie and Uncle Perry’s house with the Smith branch of the family. I blame the lapse of judgement on those martinis Aunt Susie whipped up for us.
All around, a quick but potent long weekend. Congrats Marco and Kelly, and thanks for having us.
My Dad flew across the country to grab a beer with me on St. Patrick’s Day. One of the many perks of him being retired now. It was a quicker trip than he’d usually make to California, but we made the most of it. We ate the tacos, hopped the bars, talked the talk, explored the neighborhoods, poured the saké, watched the movies, clinked the glasses, and got a good look at the Pacific. Think I’ve also logged enough hours listening to my father go on about the never ending, infinite complexities of College Basketball March Madness, that at this point I might actually be able to pass as one of the talking heads on ESPN.
One of the brighter burning highlights came to be when just a day or two before my Dad got here, I learned that Flogging Molly was one of his favorite bands. As luck would have it, they were playing St. Patrick’s Day at the Palladium in Hollywood. I knew if we went it’d mean staying out way too late and drinking way too much, but damn it, life needs some living. So I got us some good seats, and after seeing the pit below and feeling the relief on our backs, I might consider it to be one of the greatest purchases I’ve ever made. One of the opening bands was from Ukraine, and given current events, the people were BEYOND fired up. It was a fun show, and most importantly, Dad got to cross off seeing Flogging Molly on St. Patrick’s day.
My Dad and I talk pretty often, but I’m not exactly sure the last time just the two of us spent this much uninterrupted time together. Maybe our cross country drive when I made the move to California 15 years ago. This little adventure has been a reminder that I should strive to make this happen more often. We had a great time, and I’ve got the photos to prove it. My favorite of which is Dad using chopsticks for only his second time ever for his “raymen” noodles.
My Dad came out for a visit a few years back, but it’d been over 5 years since he and Mom both spent time with us in California. Chalk it up to those lost Covid years, and the fact that Alexis and I get out to see them once or twice a year, rain or shine. In any case, it was overdue so only felt right to make it count, and I think we did.
We started out with a train ride north, watching the mountains and the Pacific roll by for miles on end until we reached Santa Barbara. We spent a few days here, and most of it was spent soaking in the town’s beauty, it’s history, and its sun. Frankly, a little too much sun. Trust me when I tell you a hat is a bald man’s best friend in the summer. Everything we ate and drank was a home run. From oceanfront dinning to brewery bites, and everything in-between. By our last day, the spell of the town’s charm had us rummaging through Zillow, wondering if we could all just live here instead.
After Santa Barbara, my parents spent a couple days in Laguna Beach without us, so that Alexis and I could briefly get back to our jobs in the salt mines. They had a nice time in Laguna, and once they got back, we spent the rest of our days together exploring the never ending offerings of Los Angeles. And I really mean never ending.
There was Mom using chopsticks for the first time. Brunch and donuts at The Grove. A trip to the Academy Museum for a closer look at details from some of Mom and Dad’s favorites, like The Wizard of Oz and Casablanca. Tacos at Trejo’s. A tour of Alexis’ work for a glimpse at some post-production magic. Dinner at Rao’s, where the one and only, Jonny Roastbeef, gave us an authentic New York welcome in LA. Alexis introduced my parents to one of her favorite movies, How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days, and we witnessed the miracle of my Dad staying awake through all of it, suggesting he might’ve actually liked it.
We walked the Venice canals to marvel at homes as diverse as the blooming flowers all around us. There was rooftop tapas and margaritas in Century City. A 50th anniversary screening of Jaws downtown, and the wild fact that Dad saw it originally in theaters 50 years back, and hadn’t since been to a movie in half that amount of time. We clinked glasses at the highest open-air bar west of the Mississippi, perched on top of LA’s tallest building. Probably forgetting some things, but in any case, you get the picture. We made it count.
This was the first trip my Mom and Dad have taken together since they’ve both been retired. My parents are as hard working as people come. It’s how I’ve always known them. Never putting themselves first. Always leaning much further in the direction of doing the things they had to do, rather than the things they might’ve wanted to. It brings me so much happiness to see them both retired now, enjoying the shade of trees they’ve planted long ago. It couldn’t be more earned and I couldn’t be more excited for this new and long chapter of life for them. I have a feeling it’s gonna be a great one.