FLYING HIGH

Writing a blog entry at 35,000 ft is a unique experience. Needless to say, it provides a wonderful perch from which to give an overview of our holiday in California.

As we fly out briefly over the Pacific Ocean before circling back above Los Angeles on our way home, we leave the land of $3.69 a gallon gas, $2 bottles of Charles Shaw wine (two buck Chuck) and $8 turkeys at Stater’s (with a minimum order of $50).

We also leave behind a place where it seems everyone has two cars, even if one of them happens to be a ’59 Edsel like the one Karen’s friend Bill Clinton owns. We also say goodbye to a state where, despite the preponderance of fast food outlets, fitness seems to rule and where the lack of a health care safety net makes people more aware of the needs of others, more open to calling their neighbour a brother or sister.

What will always remain with me are the many memories of an adventurous trip which took us from the posh homes of Beverly Hills to the snow capped mountains at Big Bear and Arrowhead, from the regal Fox Center for the Performing Arts in Riverside to the Cheesecake Factory at The Grove in LA.

We will return home a few pounds (kilograms) heavier than when we left three weeks ago thanks to some amazing eateries. In fact, I may try getting a job as a mall Santa when we get back.

Of course, we won’t soon forget some of the people from our holiday; classy Judy Collins famous for her hit song Both Sides Now; fifteen year old Parker who says Grade 10 math in California is easy; freakish looking people on Hollywood Boulevard who expect to be paid for having your picture taken with them; Tom, a man who teaches CPR for dogs as well as helping a hypnotist put on a monthly show in Oceanside; Roger McGuinn, legendary guitarist and cornerstone of 60's rock band The Byrds; Alfredo, the helpful receptionist at the Days Inn Hotel on the Sunset Strip; and Shirley, a friendly waitress at Coco’s who slipped Terry a free bran muffin.

So many new faces and so many new stories and then…a story I could identify with.

Rose Thompson is almost eighty years old and fears she may have lung cancer. She's had three CT scans and now awaits the results from a PET scan. Her husband Fred looked as frightened as Rose as she told her story.

News of my cancer remission seemed to give her some solace and hope for the future. As we parted after our brief encounter, I put a St. Peregrine medal in her hand and said Terry and I would pray for her.

We were united in a special way for a brief moment and in retrospect, the Polident smile I can still see on her face as she accepted the medal is one of my best memories of the holiday.