thedaveandkimmershow

[thedaveandkimmershow]

All our birthdays are around the holidays so the holidays always color our birthdays.

Kimmer's birthday was yesterday and it had Christmas written all over it. With a touch of Halloween.

The day started with Halloween, interestingly, as the first order of my part of the day was to pick up a wood panel photo I ordered from Walgreens. Printing anything onto those laminated panels absolutely makes those things look better. In this case, a selfie Kimmer took of us at Linzy's gig at the Sunset Tavern, her Dream Patrol show the week before Halloween that she declared to be a costume event.

So we showed up as a vampire from Nevermore Academy (me, from that Netflix show, Wednesday) and some kind of shiny twinkly something topped off like a lampshade (Kimmer, getting creative with a Value Village Halloween department score).

After that, I picked up a dozen yellow roses after passing an abundance of Christmas shrubbery variations at Trader Joe's.

From there, I slipped over to QFC, Fred Meyer, actually, to see if I could score some Kimberly Cupcakes 'cause Kroger's owns both stores and Kimberly Cupcakes won't kill Kimmer whose body chemistry doesn't play well with any kind of nut. Talking to a bakery associate, I discovered Kroger's stopped carrying Kimberly's in favor of their own brand of cupcakes, made in a nut-free facility.

Sold!

Back home, I rummage through our gift bag bin, rummage through a lot of Christmas bags for a most appropriate gift bag for Kimmer's birthday presents that include the lovely bouquet of yellow roses and pulled out one cupcake, set it on a plate, placed a single lighted candle atop it, and walked into our bedroom with the bag 'o presents and a fine rendition of "Happy Birthday" sung by me.

After a lazy Birthday morning, we head out into the world with a brief stop at Sally's where Kimmer conducts research with a very knowledgeable associate, then we're into Hobby Lobby where Kimmer's on the hunt for craft pieces for the card she's making for Linzy's birthday... she's also looking for dollhouse pieces for a bit of a retrofit/remodel of the doll house she and her dad built together many years ago. It's wired for lights... and our honorary grandkids love the thing. Which is why she's polishing it up.

Christmas, by the way, hits you right BAM in the face soon as you walk through the doors and nearly down every aisle. So while Kimmer hunts, I embark on taking a series of Christmas Nutcracker photographs.

Hobby Lobby's lousy with those wooden figures. 

I grabbed something like twenty individual snaps. Totally got lost in the process. ☺️

After Hobby Lobby, Kimmer had Cactus on the brain since we hadn't really eaten anything all day... so we drove down to Seattle, to South Lake Union, and grabbed a coupla seats at a table for some time, just the two of us, over a lovely meal.

An hour and a half later, we walk over to that old Goodwill Boutique nearby and find out it's been closed so we drive up the hill to that other Goodwill that's always so nice during Christmas. Again, Kimmer goes hunting while I take another thirty Christmas photographs. ☺️

By the time we're done, it's a little after five... and dark like it's midnight.

So now we're getting into the part of the day when we're gonna connect up with Linzy. So we head for Ballard and, because traffic's fouled up in every direction, it takes us about fifty minutes to land at that GoodWill on 8th Avenue NW where we score a painted plywood elf with a face cutout into which kids can squeeze their own faces for funny yuletide snaps at our house with our soon-to-be Thanksgiving children visitors.

Kimmer does her hunting thing all over the store while I take a record number of pictures for the night totalling 41.

BAM.

Quarter to seven we swing down to Trader Joe's by the Ballard Bridge where we score frozen pizzas, spiced cider, straight seltzer, and a bag of Thanksgiving flavored popcorn.

No idea what that's gotta taste like... I'll let you know when we dig in.

730 we swing by Linzy's work, picking her up, and eventually dropping she and Kimmer at Linzy's place by eight while I end up parking a couple blocks south of Linzy's first apartment on the hill. 

A ten-minute walk later, I rejoin the girls in the midst of cooking, sharing videos on Linzy's iPad, and taking a look at the lovely birthday card Linzy hand-crafted for her mom. ☺️

After that we settle on the big, dark green comfy couch for dinner, drinks, and Beetlejuice Beetlejuice streaming on AppleTV. It was a lovely movie, not as great as the first, but fun to watch.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, once we finished our pizzas, we took a moment to bring out the remaining three cupcakes (made in a nut-free facility), Linzy fashioned them each with a candle, lit each one, then we sang Kimmer a Happy Birthday followed right away with clapping and the Happy Happy Birthday song that ends with a very Russian "Hey!!!". 

We finished the movie whilst reveling in the deliciousness of triple chocolate super iced and injected with chocolate frosting.

We finished the movie around ten-thirty, cleaned up, packed up, with the three of us walking back to the car carrying conversations the whole way. 

Linzy's with us to catch a ride to the U-District from which it's a straight shot home. Which we reach at quarter to midnight.

In the end, it was a full and lovely day. We both agreed it was paced just right and, by the end, we had no problem slipping under the covers as well as slipping into a deep, deep sleep.

☺️

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Across the different chapters of my life, I observed a cohort of individuals gathering together for one of their own.

Cohort?

Yeah. Of course there are definitional variations on this word but the way I think of it is a bunch of people who share the same experience across time. In my circles, the word's most often attached to a particular class of schoolmates working their way through grad school. Or, in my specific case, the kids who were admitted to the Art Institute of Seattle at the same time as I. We all started on the same Day 1 and worked our way through together, course after course, quarter after quarter, until we walked across that stage a little over a year and a half later to accept our Associate of Arts degrees.

That's one cohort for me.

I belong to another cohort of professionals with whom I entered the local production/post-production scene at the same time. I worked on crews with them, in-studio and in studio control. We all learned how to do what we do on the job, around each other, for a long time.

So yeah. Cohort.

And across the different chapters of my life, I shared in the sorrow of a cohort of people saying goodbye. These were teenagers responding to the death of one of their own. Not once. But twice.

It was heartbreaking. And the second time especially I thought of it that way:

One of their own.

So my cohorts, younger cohorts, and then for the first time I recognized "one of their own" in an older cohort. These would be professionals somewhere between fifteen to twenty years ahead of me with their own shared experience in local broadcast. Producers. Photographers. Editors. They worked together. Their paths crossed and crossed and crossed both personally and professionally to this day. And yesterday, they celebrated two of their own who forged a bond of matrimony together.

They got married.

I guess I never thought of the older professionals in my life as a group of friends like I have a group of friends. Who hung out. Who did their careers together. Who shared with each other a specific broadcast television experience across decades with plenty of stories to show for it. Who celebrate each other. Who support each other. Who get each other.

It's sweet as hell.

And I'm glad I finally recognized it.

☺️

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Once upon a time, when her daughter was in her teens, she hoped aloud that some day, one day, she would find love again.

That was a really long time ago.

Many, many years later, I wrote this to her:

"Congratulations on crafting your new Life together, creating this new chapter that is so deserved for both of you. No idea if this is the equivalent to baseball's seventh, eighth, or ninth inning... but that always seems to be where the best, the greatest, the most breathtaking fans-up-out-of-their-seats moments happen. And we wish that for you. Always."

That wish was written into a hand-crafted card Kimmer made for the occasion of our friend's wedding.

Today.

The wedding was today.

And the congratulations we wished her was a thing I wrote right after I wrote this:

"Holy smokes! Congratulations to you both on this, your wedding day, and for being clever enough to "wait" so long for this day that you no longer require the save yourself for marriage lecture." 🤣🤣🤣

Today, my friend's future made good on itself. Today, she and her sweetheart chose each other after living the first two acts of their lives to the fullest. So here once more: another beginning.

❤️

Today, in the presence of close friends and family, our friend and her newly-minted husband spoke their vows to each other and exchanged rings of course of course of course.

The Beatles song "In My Life" was performed live with vocals and piano accompaniment.

That song, by the way, was written by John Lennon when he was twenty-five years old. From my vantage point now, that's hard to believe. From my vantage point as a teen when I first heard the song, I thought it was schlocky. Kind of a filler song.

What a difference a few decades makes to our perceptions, though, right?

It's one helluva song that carries such meaning down at this end of the field.

☺️

There are many things about today that carry such weight and I'm gonna rely on the power, the depth of those memories to carry forward as the years pass.

One thing I do wanna write down for posterity is something their pastor said today:

May the power of their love Be a force in the world.

Seriously. Amen, right???

May the power of their love be a force in the world.

So say we all.

Not just for them.

But for all of us.

😊

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Normally after experiencing a Little Lies show and deciding to write about it... I would write about it.

Instead, after Kimmer 'n I experienced the show from right up front last night, I'm choosing to write about, well, us.

I'll start with a quick back'n forth between me and the daughter.

"We're starting to get the sense  that you don't need to be Taylor Swift famous in order for people to walk up and tell us how AWESOME it is that we're your parents. Well done, you. ☺️"

"seems like you guys were famous in the crowd 😍"

That's maybe overstating our disposition a little but it did feel like we were getting a lot of undeserved deference and enthusiasm pointed our way. Not at all a testament to who we are or what we do, this is evidence of how deeply meaningful is the music of Fleetwood Mac even when it's performed by a tribute band putting on one helluva show.

The recognition of us as band parents is really quite surreal.

My daughter again:

"it doesn’t stop being surreal when people recognize us or ask for autographs or pictures"

How it started is that we were right in front of the stage and, while waiting for the show to start, it came to pass that Kimmer connected with another fan down front who was blown away by Kimmer's band parent status. She wanted to share all her experiences with Kimmer. Lots of hugs, too. And also everyone just making more space for us down front than you would expect.

Again, this is no reflection on us, it's a reflection of how excited people are about this music and the musicians performing it to such emotional perfection. The experience is so powerful, no lie, that they feel compelled to share what it felt like to them and what it meant to them...

With us.

It's sweet as hell.

Takes a bit of getting used to, though.

You know what doesn't take any getting used to?

When someone says

"Was that your daughter??? She's AMAZING!!!"

☺️

P.S. - If I had to pick a word to describe the show last night that I haven't used before?

Kinetic.

Absolutely kinetic.

😲🤯🤪

[thedaveandkimmershow]

If I had to guess, I wouldn’t really know what we did in October.

A lot, apparently.

First up:

It's SCHOOL again.

Well, not again... pretty much this has been ongoing for over a year now.

Of course Kimmer’s in the full throes of the current semester of her doctoral program. So, on top of her day job and the charting demanded by that day job, she’s also researching, writing, testing, collaborating in-class, and commiserating with fellow students in this fast-track program. 

The workload is insane… and Kimmer’s managing it on top of everything else.

For me, professionally, the month kicked off diving into and crafting the first cut of a large project about youth incarceration.

A lot of footage covering different points of view, narratives, and circumstances. Definitely the biggest, one of the biggest, projects of the year. I had the first cut done about halfway through the month. 🙂

Linzy had a bit of a month this month…

Although nothing like what’s coming up November and December. Among her gigs in October, I'm thinking about one of the many in Woodinville, this particular time at Efestē Wines where I ran into friends from a lifetime ago and we got to catch up.

And catch up.

And catch up.

Talking shop. Talking family and future with people who get it. You know?

Birds of a feather.

It was really really fun with Linzy providing the soundtrack.

Due to scheduling, our friends had to leave before Kimmer arrived. The timing was still good, though, ‘cause Linzy was on a quick break so we got in a little family time at the bar of all places. Afterward, she returned to her third set while we commenced date night. 

After that, we got all of Linzy's gear packed up and moved our van but somehow managed not to leave. We hung out at the back of the van talking shop like our family does.

Apparently.

I don't even remember what all we talked about. It was a bit stream of consciousness. But it was lovely still.

😊

Linzy’s gig calendar had something on every Friday of October.

Winery gigs on three of them. A Midnight High show on the first Friday of the month. There was a Palisade restaurant performance on the last Wednesday of October but the BIG deal was Linzy’s Dream Patrol show at Sunset Tavern in Ballard, Tuesday the 22nd.

The show was the best one so far. Between the production quality of the recorded tracks playing back through the house sound system, the writing, the arranging, the mixing, the layering of the songs, a pair of her Midnight High bandmates, masters both on bass (Tim) and lead guitar (Skylar), expert stage lighting from mains to accents, smoke, disco balls, and then Linzy's performance itself that was an aligning of planets, a coalescing of iconic look, vocal performance, and lead singer attitude.

No joke.

This was some next-level magic.

One of the Dream Patrol songs Linzy premiered at the show’s called “halloween” and a coupla days before I got it in my head to see how feasible it might be to make a music video for that song using the Text to Video function of RunwayML.

Turns out: very feasible. The thing knocked my socks off. And Kimmer’s. And the producer I’m working with. And the other editor who works with that producer. And so on. 😁

And yeah it's age-restricted due to language and horror elements. So Beware!

I said before that I completed the first cut of the youth incarceration project halfway through the month.

The big deal there was that it was a work in progress until it wasn’t. Meaning, I didn’t have a sense of the full piece until I was in sight of the finish line. So. End of the day, the producer and I watch it in its entirety. For the first time. And it’s spectacular in its polished, first-cut iteration. 😁😁😁

By the way, did I mention Kimmer made costumes?

Yeah. The Dream Patrol show was actually billed as a “costume event” and we were all-in from the get-go. I can’t remember what I thought of first for a costume but the second costume I thought of was Nevermore student vampire. It took a coupla weeks but Kimmer found the pieces for it, included her dark round lensed glasses, and crafted the formal jacket herself with blue and black stripes along with the Nevermore logo. Classic!

For herself, Kimmer made…

Actually, she found this fantastic silver material, an oversized dress actually, and was immediately inspired to craft an Eiffel Tower costume. She bought additional materials and had a sort of first draft laid out on our dining room table prior to sewing it all together. It would've been AMAZING.

What happened, though, is that Kimmer was at Value Village and ran across a purple T-shirt illustrated with the gang from It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! in their iconic costumes.

Later she was telling me about it and how she was thinking about getting it for me to which I replied

“Why didn't you???”

So next thing we're in the car to Value Village where we snag the shirt (thankfully still hanging there in the costumes section) and since Kimmer’s always looking… she finds this year’s costume. Actually, she finds it in pieces. 

The first piece Kimmer finds is kind of a lamp shade deal where, instead of shade, there are strings of reflective wires. So she grabs it, thinking how it might go with her Eiffel Tower costume still in the works. But then…

Then she finds an outfit that we don't know what it is but it looks cool, fits comfortably, and makes a statement.

What statement?

No idea. 

It has kind of, sort of, maybe a Jetson’s vibe? But then put the reflective headpiece on her head and now she looks like a lamp?

Sort of?

Kind of?

Maybe?

So she buys both pieces on the spot and then a few days later finds the ankle boots to go with it. White leather. Platform. And now with this third piece she definitely has a look.

Again, no idea what that look is, but then we're in Ballard walking to the show at night. We're both wearing our costumes, me without the sunglasses yet, she without the reflective headpiece yet. Nearing the venue, we pass a group of revelers and one of them pauses to tell Kimmer how much she loves Kimmer’s outfit.

Get it? Outfit?

See, this is October 22. Costume parties won't start ‘til Friday afternoon. So I'm pretty sure she thought Kimmer was normally just dressed this way and looked cool.

I thought that was very sweet.

And Kimmer did look cool. ☺️

By the way. That music video I made from Text to Video prompts? That was definitely on my own time but it did pay off professional dividends in that I now have a method of working with this particular AI tool and can actually explain it to another human being in a way that makes sense.

Ish.

Okay so last thing:

We watched and watched and re-watched The Diplomat on Neflix earlier this year and have been anxiously awaiting the dropping of season 2 that happened at 3AM Eastern Standard Time, October 31st, which meant midnight Pacific Standard Time. Which meant that's how we ended our Wednesday night, October 30.

Which.

We.

Did.

We watched the first two episodes straight through for ninety minutes.

Last I looked at the clock it was about quarter of two Thursday morning.

The 31st.

The End.

😊

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Last night Linzy unveiled her latest Dream Patrol show at the Sunset Tavern. That performance was a revelation.

It was the culmination of hard work, the fulfilment of a vision for an identity separate from the other bands she's in and from the solo work she performs at tasting rooms and cafes. This is her most forward-leaning incursion into pop/tech music on a grand scale, and she delivered... absolutely delivered. The sound, the energy, the attitude...

All there.

The debut of Dream Patrol actually happened in April of this year supporting Foamboy and Clambrain at Fremont's High Dive. Dream Patrol's second show was in July at Capital Hill's Chop Suey in support of Soft Self Portraits, taking the stage after Nessa Grasing.

This third one, though. Dang. I'm gonna remember this one like it was the first.

Why?

Because it's the one where it all came together.

Call the other two shows warm-ups. Chasing proof of concept. Figuring it out. She definitely has the music and the powerful, layered, exquisite production. She has a specific sound. And she has all of it locked in.

But how to package that into a single artist show?

Make no mistake. There are a lot of moving parts when it comes to any production of this nature that are exacerbated when you reduce the number of performers to one.

So what happened?

How did this endeavor that was in its infancy suddenly explode onto the stage?

Well, the planets aligned.

What?

Well... half of what I'm about to say was present in the previous shows.

Ish.

But this time around, four different things locked in together.

1

The production quality of the recorded tracks playing back through the house sound system was perfection. It was loud. It was big, wonderfully layered. You felt it like a stadium concert.

And the songs?

Definitely next level as far as writing, arranging, and mixing go. The vibe was... well...

There was definitely a club vibe but really it had a big performance vibe. As I said before, like a stadium concert with a capacity audience of fans.

2

Linzy expanded this version of Dream Patrol to include her Midnight High bandmates Tim Van Buren on bass guitar and Skyler Mehal on lead guitar. Serious performers. Master musicians.

Prior to this performance, Dream Patrol presented as a solo artist with backing tracks. On one occasion, for two songs, Skylar and Tim stepped in to sprinkle some of their magic.

This time around?

It was Tim and Skylar magic from beginning to end.

Beginning.

To end.

Magic.

😁😁😁

3

Another ingredient contributing to the outright excellence of this show was the house vibe. In this case, a magnificent sound system from highs to subs accompanied by expert stage lighting from mains to accents, smoke, disco balls, and a genuine wizard at the mixing console maintaining a premium mix on the fly.

4

Of course the necessary, essential, most important element of the show was Linzy's performance. The final piece, locked in.

In this case, that performance started with wardrobe, a Beetlejuice jacket over a black cycling outfit. A specific look. An iconic look. One that both draws attention and announces the party's begun. On top of that, a vocal performance with such scope and control to impress the vocalists in the room who know what that ability takes. 

On top of that?

Yeah.

Attitude.

I actually didn't realize how much of a difference that makes until years ago Kimmer 'n I went to a Raiding the Rock Vault show in Las Vegas. The show features former members of classic rock bands performing classic rock tunes. Think of them as the ultimate tribute band. And I noticed the lead singers—there were two different ones taking turns—the lead singers were wicked good at engaging the audience. They projected their outsized personalities down each aisle, across each row. They connected effortlessly from center stage regardless of how close or how far back audience members were from the stage.

It's a helluva thing to be aware of, I gotta say. It's a helluva thing to experience. 

And I was reminded of that experience at Linzy's Dream Patrol show. 

It was big...

It was personal.

And it was a helluva thing.

☺️☺️☺️

[thedaveandkimmershow]

When Linzy's performing schedule first started rolling post-pandemic, it was summer that tended to be the gravitational center of her scheduled gigs.

This year, summer was good...

But not this good. Fall and winter are turning downright busy.

Did I say turning?

I mean they are downright busy.

Here's what's ahead for the remainder of 2024, split between her winery/cafe gigs where she performs as Linzy Collins, then Dream Patrol, then Midnight High, then The Little Lies PNW.

OCTOBER

Tuesday, October 22 DREAM PATROL Sunset Tavern, Ballard Show starts at 8p

Friday, October 25 LINZY COLLINS Tsillan Cellars, Woodinville 5-7p

Wednesday, October 30 LINZY COLLINS Palisade Restaurant, Seattle 6-930p

NOVEMBER 

Saturday, November 2 THE LITTLE LIES PNW Clearwater Casino, Suquamish 7p

Friday, November 8 LINZY COLLINS Tsillan Cellars 5-7p

Saturday, November 9 THE LITTLE LIES PNW Apex Everett 7p

Tuesday, November 12 LINZY COLLINS Palisade Restaurant, Seattle  6-930p

Friday, November 15 LINZY COLLINS The Cottage, Bothell 6-9p

Saturday, November 23 Midnight High (opening for Smokey Brights) Tractor Tavern, Seattle 830p

Friday, November 29 LINZY COLLINS Palisade Restaurant, Seattle  6-10p

DECEMBER 

Tuesday/Wednesday, December 3/4 THE LITTLE LIES PNW Aladdin Theater, Portland 8p both nights 

Friday, December 6 LINZY COLLINS Palisade Restaurant, Seattle 6-10p

Wednesday, December 11 THE LITTLE LIES PNW Moore Theater, Seattle 8p

Friday, December 13 LINZY COLLINS Palisade Restaurant, Seattle 6-10p

Tuesday, December 17 LINZY COLLINS Palisade Restaurant, Seattle 6-930p

Friday, December 20 LINZY COLLINS The Cottage, Bothell 6p

Friday, December 27 LINZY COLLINS Willows Lodge, Woodinville 6-830p

Saturday, December 28 THE LITTLE LIES PNW (co-headlining with Queen Mother) Neumos, Seattle  8p

Tuesday, December 31 Young-Chhaylee, Craig Suede, Reuben Woodruff, Linzy Collins TBA

So yeah.

Seriously, it's packed. Linzy won't even consider booking another Dream Patrol gig until February, maybe later, since January features separate Little Lies road gigs to Los Angeles and then to San Francisco.

Or vice versa. 

Probably vice versa.

Anyway, that's what's on the schedule right now, peppered in and around her day job as a private music teacher whose students and their families show up to all her winery/cafe gigs and all the gigs that aren't 21+.

Yeah.

Look who's making it as a professional musician. ☺️

[thedaveandkimmershow]

When we were young together, we had no idea we were at the beginning of a story. We had no sense of our story unfolding.

Only later did we recognize it as such.

Maybe a more grounded way of putting this is that we had no idea what was happening as it was happening. It was all just whatever happened on any given day, in any given moment. Then the next. Then the next.

This isn't a movie, after all. It's life. Relentlessly in progress. In a constant state of in medias res. Into the middle of things.

So even though there are definite beginnings and endings related to school and relationships, significant Life events, the rest of it's a blur. It just happens. Moment after moment after moment after moment of whatever's happening in that moment. A lot of stuff in there over which we seemingly have precious little control.

So when I showed up at her place the day after July 4 many many many suns and moons ago, the experience did not feel like a beginning. This was not the opening scene or titles to a rom-com.

It was simply another day.

Now I can tell you all kinds of things about why we met up that day. I can tell you about the video project that randomly caused our paths to intersect at this moment. I can tell you about subsequent "meetings" in the city that were pretty much dates. I can tell you about wait.

What was that project again?

Yeah.

It is a story. One that I can tell you begins on a certain July 5 when we were in our twenties and unfolds in a series of fortunate and not-so-fortunate adventures. It's a story that to some degree I've been telling ever since.

It's our "Tales". And they have a beginning. July 5, 1990.

If that's wrong, by the way, the date's July 5, 1991.

Either way, it's July 5. On that we totally agree.

Soooooooo...

Was it a date?

Nope. It was a consultation. And I'm not even using that word in quotation marks. She was working with a team on a documentary about the Tiananmen Square protests and massacre by Chinese government troops in 1989. The producing team was Chinese and she wanted advice about how to tell this story to an American audience.

And I was the only one she knew with industry experience (just barely, by the way) who might be able to advise her.

In the weeks after, our story turned into and then one thing led to another story. But on this day, it was just the first thing. It was shop talk about a documentary. It was basically Q&A.

Seriously. Nothing more than that.

Okay wait. One little thing more. She promised Nestle Crunch Ice Cream Bars in return for my time. Which she totally made good on. 😀

Looking back on that day, I mentioned to Kimmer this morning what it'd be like if we could join our younger selves in that moment. Join them in that moment and whisper into their ears

Pay attention! This moment, this day, is gonna change your life.

How would they respond? What would they say?

Would it be like Yeah. Sure.

Would it be Yippeeeeeeee!!!

Would it be No way.

Hmmmm.

I don't know what they would've said. But I sure know what they should've said.

They should've said

Thank.

God.

❤️

[thedaveandkimmershow]

I still remember the moment. The one where she asked about having kids but not in the future tense like I was used to.

Oh you mean right now? Like, right now?

The answer of course was Yes.

She was talking about starting right now.

Whaaaaaaat???

Oh sure I agreed with the thing about having kids in theory. Like sure, I wanna have kids...

Some day.

In principle.

And then it turned out that day had arrived.

I won't lie. That was one crazy moment.

I don't remember how long ago that was after we were married. I know that our firstborn showed up five years after we were married which wasn't our plan and yeah. You bet. A lot of that was heartbreaking. The waiting, of course, but also that nagging possibility.

What if kids weren't in the cards for us?

What if that was never gonna happen?

I had no idea how I felt about that... but Kimmer sure did.

Ultimately, "heartbreaking" wasn't even close to what that monstrous, ominous possibility felt like to her.

Even when she eventually did become pregnant and it sustained for the entire nine months and three weeks... even that was fraught with other ominous possibilities early on that never really let up.

So this experience that's supposed to be a forgone conclusion—We're having a baby!—was nothing of the kind. It was a nailbiter all the way through the C-section that also threatened our dream.

Now the reason I mention this earliest of our backstory as parents is that the experience was nothing like we expected. Literally nothing. And this thing about Motherhood was also nothing like we imagined, nothing like we were led to believe. Right from the start we were off-roading.

And the strength it takes? The physical, the intellectual,  the emotional strength it takes to navigate Motherhood is barely suggested by the experience of pregnancy and delivery.

It really, really isn't.

Now, just like I feel like it's my call and my call only to pass judgment on whether my mom was a good mom or not, it feels like it's not my place to pass such judgment on Kimmer. 

Here's the thing, though:

I was there. 

I saw everything. I know what was on the board. I knew the position of all the pieces. I experienced the challenges, the threats, the plot twists by her side.

We processed all of it.

And we dealt with it on the fly, in the moment...

Together.

At the start of our journey, I had a friend who was adamant that everything about our lives would completely change as soon as our baby arrived.

That turned out not to be true.

The first year and a half, two years... that was comparatively easy. We were still pretty much calling the shots. Parenting a child who isn't mobile yet is some generally straightforward stuff and she was part of our schedule. But when she learned to walk? When she learned to manipulate things with her hands? When her brain became this supercharged figuring things out machine? And then school? And then teachers and friends and frenemies?

Yeah.

After those first two years we were thrown into wild river rapids. A physical, emotional, and intellectual challenge that never.

Goes.

Away.

That's the gig, by the way, when you've willingly signed up to help a newly minted human being navigate life through adulthood. The complexity of that undertaking is massive. Absolutely breathtakingly massive.

Obviously a lot of that had to do with the moving target of raising a child who's constantly, relentlessly changing in every way imaginable all the time. Some of that you see coming. Some of that you really don't. There's also a profoundly significant part of that undertaking, that complexity, that has to do with everything and everyone outside the walls of our little family. Because those elements of her life, of our lives, were also in constant motion. They also presented challenges that set off opportunities and alarms in equal measure.

Kept us on our toes is a polite way of framing it.

I can't emphasize that enough, by the way. Our reality was ever-changing.  Always on the move. It was a reality that absolutely delivered to us mind-blowing awesomeness as often as it set off random landmine explosions.

And you never know what's coming. Each day its own. With all kinds of crazy threads running through 'em. 

I said before that parenthood is nowhere near to what I thought it would be. This has definitely been a long, strange trip we've been riding. 

As a mom and dad, though, the experience is not the same. There's nothing equivalent about it. Oh sure parts of it feel the same but dig this: From Day One, Motherhood is a wicked close, dynamically intense relationship that's essentially a prolonged process of letting go of someone who was literally once a part of you.

One more time:

A wicked close.

Dynamically intense relationship.

That's essentially a prolonged process.

Letting go of someone.

Who was literally once.

Part of you.

So no. I have no idea what that feels like. I have no idea what that experience was and is, the one where you take a once helpless human life who lived within a walled garden... and then you release them into the wild.

I know what my experience with my daughter is. I don't know what Kimmer's is other than to pass judgment that her experience is a massively complex, complicated journey that's daunting on its face. Intimidating. Requiring a skill set I don't have. Demanding a strength, a wisdom, a patience and tolerance I don't have.

In my judgment, Motherhood is the ultimate long game. An often turbulent one for a maddening diversity of reasons. But it is a long game, an infinite journey that is always ongoing no matter what.

So on days like today when we intentionally celebrate Mothers and Motherhood, I celebrate for my own reasons. I celebrate because thank God she's my partner in this mom & dad thing. 

Seriously.

Thank. God.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

The moment was at the door to her room. At least that's how I remember it. We're standing in the hall, she's just inside her room playing us a song.

She's got her acoustic guitar in hand and she's playing us a song on that guitar, she's singing us a song over that guitar, she's performing a song for us that she wrote.

That she wrote.

If such things were possible, this would be like discovering someone you've known their whole life has a superpower, a straight-up superpower. Like they can fly or lift cars or become invisible.

Or they can write songs. 

They can craft lyrics and melody over guitar or piano into something that moves you. That absolutely moves you.

We were gobsmacked. Not proud. Not joyful. Not impressed.

More like looking at your spouse and going

Did you know she could do this???

Seriously. We did not.

She is a musician, of course. An accomplished vocalist. A lyricist. A talent who can craft songs to order. A live performer who can handle a full plate and then some of technical logistical complexity on the fly in real-time and still manage to vibe perfectly with bandmates. An arranger orchestrator. A producer with vision and game. A creative technician with full command of digital sound mixing who can fill a club with beats, a radio with pop, a stage with soundscape. A person who wields her craft with astonishing technical and emotional precision.

She's a writer. A Creative with a capital C. And Dream Patrol is the canvas on which she creates with impressionistic style, deep subterranean emotion, bright hues of vitality and life, unexpected moments that are intensely small and ones that jump out at you with full-throated abandon.

Dream Patrol is an adventure, if you will, as much as it's performance. With roots in the practice of raw imagination we used to indulge before bedtime when she was a child, Dream Patrol is now a public exercise of raw imagination from center stage with a production crew in the wings.

So yeah.

Absolutely Linzy continues to surprise us. The missus 'n I are still befuddled by where all this came from back in early 2011 when Linzy was thirteen playing us her first song at the door of her bedroom and Dream Patrol was somehow a dream somewhere in the mists of her future. A future that unveils itself in a few days.

We're excited, of course. We can't wait to see what she's conjuring into the midst of the local music scene. And we're still looking at each other going

Did you know she could do this???

We did not.

But we're getting our first peek this Thursday at the High Dive. There's some room left so now's a good time to pull the trigger on tickets.

See you there. 

☺️

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Next Thursday night.

So Linzy's unveiling her first Dream Patrol show in six days. You can get your tickets here.

Really though, I wanna mention how stunning her career path is in a way I couldn't have imagined when my best friend and I were playing at being a band, goofing around with making music on keys and guitar as we entered young adulthood. It's a path I didn't imagine when Linzy 'n I talked about college and her career and networking. It's a path that worked for me in a particular way and for her in an incredibly different way and I'm sure this has mostly to do with the local music scene and the across-the-board character of local musicians.

I will say that what she's doing right now wasn't possible a couple years ago for her. Some things had to happen. Some people she needed to meet.

Because those things and people came to pass, though, right now she's fully underway with a solo performance with a sound tech and a lighting tech. She submitted a stage plan to the venue. She hired a photographer, a friend, who was hired last year to cover the Taylor Swift performances in town. And then she's telling me this story about being at a party with a seriously gifted local guitarist when they run into the lead singer of a band for whom The Little Lies recently opened. A bigger band, more established locally.

They've been around.

So they're all just talking at the party, low key, sharing a bit of what's happening in their careers.

Later, the lead singer hits her up for a solo opening gig if Dream Patrol ever needs one. Of course that's smart networking but it's also someone bigger than you offering to support you.

Someone bigger than you.

Offering to support you.

It would have made more sense for that established, experienced lead singer to offer Dream Patrol an opportunity to open for them if sharing a stage was something actually on the table.

But this?

Dang.

What a life, what a career Linzy's got on its feet.

🙂

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Dream Patrol.

In ten days, Thursday, April 25, Linzy's gonna pull the trigger on her first live performance of Dream Patrol.

An ambitious project, Dream Patrol is Linzy's creative facade for a sound she crafted that's a merging of pop, techno, indie, and sound design. Wet, multilayered vocals are key to the sound as well as references to hometown locations in the lyrics.

The sound of Dream Patrol can be haunting. The sound can be massive. The sound can be fun. The sound can be dark. The sound can be full-blown party. 

In its full expression and its simplicity, even in its simplicity, Dream Patrol has a cinematic quality.

Once upon a time, I imagined when Linzy set sail with her own music that it would be with a band she assembled. She knows a ton of gifted musicians and vocalists. However, from the beginning, Linzy imagined Dream Patrol as an individual performance.

Just her.

Now, this isn't a problem for Dream Patrol on vinyl or streaming.

But live? On stage?

What's that gonna look like for one person on stage if not like a DJ?

🤨🤔🧐

Of course Linzy's got this covered. It won't be a band experience,of course. It can't be. It won't be a solo performance or a DJ at the helm of a club. What it will be... is something intensely personal framed against a broad canvas of emotion and production value. She already has a production crew handling light and sound triggers.

Yup.

Dream Patrol.

This has been an actual dream of Linzy's for many years now until finally the opportunity intersected with room in her schedule and bandwidth in her mind by which to take this first step. In a way, we're gonna be looking at the first draft of what she intends. She's gonna build it as she goes. Show by show.

In ten days... we get the first taste.

Me, I'm excited. There's so much space here shaped by how she strives to craft this performance, a joyous, moving, a dark, deep ride in all kinds of ways that will tap into a shared experience in a way that's tough for a band to accomplish.

But a Creative with mad narrative skills?

Yeah.

This is gonna be something.

So Dream Patrol at the High Dive. Thursday, April 25 in ten days.

You can score your tickets here.

Doors open at eight.

And I am completely.

Stoked.

🤨🤯��☺️

[thedaveandkimmershow]

There are individual moments in our lives. There are many, many individual moments in our lives.

And they are infinite.

We went camping last week.

That's one.

We visited family in Holland at the beginning of January.

That's one.

Linzy just gave us tickets to the Alanis Morisette/Joan Jett concert in August.

That's really one.

We went to Linzy's gig at Off Main in Edmonds last month.

That's one.

Kimmer's working in Ballard this Wednesday.

That's one.

I have a client coming over tomorrow.

That's one.

I walked a Chihuahua on Friday.

That's one. 

We had home made flatbread pizza last night.

That's one.

And so on.

It really is possible to think of all those experiences as all of a piece. Which I suppose they are.

It really is possible to have them in my memory as individual events. Sort of a bullet list of things we've done.

So it is really possible, absolutely, to think of each memory, each experience, as having equal weight in our lives, being of equal value.

Which they do not. And they are not.

Not not not not not.

The less I remember about each experience, of course, the more likely it is I will think of each one as having equal weight and value and in that process I'll rob some of our most meaningful experiences of their, well, meaning. Of their influence on our lives. Of their love, of their laughter, of their purpose and friendshippy vibes.

Of their gravitas. 

I rob my life of its growth, its color, its muchness if all I experience is an experiential blur that leaves no evidence of its passing.

And that won't do.

It never ceases to surprise me how much I forget whilst surfing our relentless stream of life in the Present. One thing happens after another after another after another and, if I'm not intentional, I lose track of the first one thing and then the next one thing and then the next next next as more experiences and experiences and circumstances and events pile on.

Is that a bad thing?

Not always. But sometimes it is. To forget  an engaging conversation we had. A wildly interesting stranger we met. An unexpectedly impressive place where we saw that funny thing. 

And then all the little moments. The ones that add up. They really do if we let them. The ones that color our lives in their own unique, additive ways.

So I write them down.

I document all those experiences big, small, and in-between in order to shove them out of the present so they can be preserved someplace that's stable, sustainable, and accessible. It's a way of preserving people and places, conversations, experiences, and insights, of course. It's also, though, a way of strengthening those memories as well, it turns out. Beefing them up as I revisit details, examine them, and tell the story in which they're bit players, guest stars, main cast, or lead roles.

It's a way to unblur the inherent motion blurriness of daily, hourly, moment by moment experience.

And it's a way to keep. 

The colors of my life that make my life what it is.

☺️

[thedaveandkimmershow]

April 7 We came home "yesterday"

Yesterday was Going Home Day. 

Flight out of LAX at 520pm, our day's back-timed to my alarm going off at quarter to seven.

A.M.

Which makes the day the most like being at home.

We're on a schedule now. ☹️

Coffee for Kimmer, of course, is first on the To-Do list. As is breakfast for Cookie, Kimmer's cousin's Chihuahua.

As the morning unfolds, coffee is had, fancy tea is had, Father Mike's podcast (from Ascension press) is listened to, reading writing researching studying and writing is indulged and/or engaged, and laundry is finished.

We're keeping an eye on the day's travel schedule. The plan is to drive to LAX first to drop off our gear and luggage that, combined, accounts for the most awkward weight we're pushing and carrying. After checking those bags and scoring boarding passes, we'll jump back in the van and drive to the gas station nearest the Escape Campervan location in Inglewood, about a couple miles in a straight line from the airport. Once the van's checked back in, we'll Lyft it or Uber it back to the airport, heading right for a TSA checkpoint.

Given that the estimated time to get from Irvine to LAX is an hour to an hour-twenty, we shoot for 1pm as our departure time from our temporary SoCal home.

So that's our plan.

Around 11:30 we switch into lunch, shower, and packing mode. We've actually been munching all morning in order to make food and drink disappear that we'd otherwise have to pack.

Our official lunch is the french onion soup 'n salad kit we scored at Trader Joe's the other night on our way out of Crystal Cove.

After that, I'm thinking about packing while Kimmer's thinking about not making her cousin regret that he ever let us into his home.

So.

We unload then reload then run the dishwasher. We take out all the trash. We picked up a replacement package of tp the day before. Kimmer ran her cousin's camp laundry through the washer/dryer then I folded the towels, we folded the fitted bed sheet, and she folded the rest. Finally, she returned her nephew's room (the one we commandeer each time we visit) to better than we found it condition.

And... we left some food and drink in the fridge.

While Kimmer's working her magic upstairs, I pull the van in front of the garage and pull everything in it... out of it, placing it all on the floor at the front of the open garage.

Whoops.

BIG mistake.

You see, having packed our gear bags and setting the contents of those bags in specific storage spaces inside the van from front to back, Kimmer's process (which I swear I did not know) is simply to reverse her process when we first arrived. Even when the unloading of gear happened six days ago, she knows where each item goes back into which gear bags based on where each one is in the van. 

Like I said...

Whoops.

So.

Since I placed everything on the garage floor in a very, very loose collection, she couldn't reverse what she'd done. She had to basically start from scratch.

Which she did like a BOSS.

Took her a half hour, the weight of our two gear bags coming in at 38 and 44 pounds.

By the time we pull out of the driveway, it's 130. A half-hour passed what we planned, our schedule is now out of our hands. We will do each thing we already laid out step by step...

And see what happens.

Now, we had figured between an hour to an hour-twenty of travel time between Irvine and LAX. We wound up taking an hour-ten, listening to the Joely Fisher audiobook the whole way.

So. We beat the longest travel estimate for getting from Irvine to LAX by ten minutes.

Sweet. 😊

Here's where we lose the ten minutes we just picked up:

We're within a mile of the airport when I kill Google Maps, opting instead to follow the signage as we approached the airport.

So far so good.

I actually see the sign three times declaring the way to the Southwest terminal parking garage. So I pull into the garage, P1, and find a spot almost immediately. I actually pull up next to/behind the spot, blocking it with my flashers on so we can pull the big bags out the side of the van with plenty of elbow room then I settle the van into its new found parking spot.

Like that we're wheeling our gear bags and clothes bags to the elevator. Only, it seems like ticketing's straight across from us. So we try the next elevator over thinking it might actually be a crosswalk taking us across.

No luck.

I do see an enclosed sky bridge one floor up so we take the elevator only to discover the sky bridge is for employees only. It's at this point we realize that we've seen no mention of "Departures" on any sign on any wall anywhere. "Arrivals" yes. "Departures" no. Which is when we start entertaining the idea that there may be no way to get from here to there and really start thinking we need to move to another parking garage.

Walking back to the elevator we first encountered one floor down, we realize we can take the elevator to street level, "Arrivals" street level, "Baggage Claim" street level where we can walk the cross-walk to the terminal entrance and, once inside, we can catch an escalator, stairs, or an elevator to ticketing. Which is what we do.

The elevator, by the way, is how we rolled. And three o'clock is when we reached check-in.

Three-fifteen we're in the van again on our way out the garage to our next stop: the gas station nearest the Escape Campervan location in Inglewood. We fill up the tank with a little over a hundred bucks of regular gasoline for just under three hundred miles of travel that used up a half tank of gas across a week of use.

By the way, gas prices down here are a buck more per gallon than they are at home.

Just sayin'. 🤨

Three-thirty's when we're pulling into the Escape Campervan lot that closes at four. Minutes later I'm unloading our carry-ons from the van when the attendant asks me

Is this yours?

It's a parking pass. The one Kimmer's cousin loaned us for on-property parking while he was away and we were basically living in his home.

It also happens to be the parking pass we were supposed to leave on the kitchen counter before we left for the airport.

🤬🤬🤬

Yeah.

That was not good.

We'll have to next-day it as soon as we're home.

Hopefully the fact that we left his place in good shape will cause him to curse our names just a leetle bit less than he would otherwise indulge.

Hopefully.

Fingers crossed the pass makes it back to his home before he does. 

Quarter to four is when our Uber driver picks us up. Wonderful human being, by the way. A native of Costa Rica, his mother moved the family to L.A. where she studied when she was younger. We thought it was cool, the part about Costa Rica. 

It is, he says, as long as you like rain and humidity.

Oh.

Still sounds cool, though. 

He has a couple kids, a boy and a girl, twelve and fifteen, so we talk kids the rest of the way. Four on the nose is when he drops us at the Southwest terminal. 

Not bad but still a little behind our plan, the idea being to hit the front door an hour before boarding.

That would be 450, fifty minutes from now. Like I said, not bad... but also not great.

What is great, though, is that since our bags are already checked we're heading straight for the TSA checkpoint that, as it turns out, has no line.

Okay there's one person in front of us. My point is... we sail straight through except for they need to run my rucksack twice because, basically, it's pretty cluttered in there. 🤔🤨

We reach our gate twenty minutes after we hit the front door, twenty minutes prior to boarding.

We actually have time to sit. ☺️

Our plane lifts off at quarter past five, landing in San Jose forty-five minutes later.

Checking our flight information, I see our connection's two gates down and doesn't board until 755.

Once inside the terminal, we discover our flight's delayed a half hour so we figure that's a sign we should sit down for dinner at a place we just passed by.

At the entrance is a sign that reads Please wait to be seated so we wait right next to that sign where we can see the place is getting slammed and there are only two people waiting on everyone whether they're at the bar or at a table.

Finally, we catch a table, figure out what we want to eat (glazed brussel sprouts) then turn our attention to what we want to drink.

Only.

There are no drinks listed on the menu so we ask for a drink menu only there isn't one. We ask if there's a drink menu online.

Nope.

The waiter says Just tell me what you want. I'll tell you how much it is.

Ooooo.

That doesn't sound right.

So Kimmer goes back to the entrance where a menu's posted and takes a photo of the drink section. When she gets back to the table, we decide on a pair of Angry Orchards and let the waiter know.

That's nine dollars each.

Whoops.

The sign outside says $8.49. Not a big deal but it does contribute to a vibe like maybe we wanna go someplace else. Especially when we point out the discrepancy and then we're asked if we'd like to speak to the manager.

Oh for God's sake.

So we just deal with it having ordered the two ciders and the glazed brussel sprouts.

Sitting at the table, it's obvious the two wait staff personnel are absolutely maxed out by the number of people who've converged for dinner. Later it's obvious: two people are quite sufficient most of the time. But sometimes they just.

Get.

Slammed.

And I'm sure the price discrepancy between what's posted outside and what's stored in the register is well above the pay grade of wait staff to remedy.

Later, our waiter stops by and asks if we'd like some fries. 

I tell him no.

Then he tells me they're on the house.

So I tell him yes. We'd looooove some. 😁

Kimmer makes it a point to acknowledge how wait staff was being slammed, moving fast as possible in order to serve everyone. Doing a great job given the circumstances.

Thank you. Thank you.

Eventually it's time to go so it's time to pay. With that in mind, we leave a 33% cash tip for our waiter before wishing each other heartfelt fare-thee-wells.

In retrospect, it striking how much of a bad mood we were indulging from the jump. I'm just glad we were all able to recover and pivot.

We all ended well with each other. ☺️

In other news, by the time we got up from our dinner, our flight delay was extended to 45 minutes. So we made a beeline for the open room where they have all the comfy chairs and couches and desk space and electrical outlets. Just what the doctor ordered for a pair of readers and writers, one of whom immediately pulls out a Trader Joe's bar of dark chocolate that she actually shares with the class. 😁

By the time our plane leaves the ground, it's somewhere between quarter of and ten.

One thing I wanna mention about the flight is that we'd claimed the two-seat emergency row and, when it came time for the stewardess to explain our responsibilities, she did so standing in the aisle next to the seat in front of me, her right hand resting on the headrest of that seat.

Kimmer notices how the stewardess is wearing a beautiful silver ring. It's wide with fine engravings. Kimmer mentions to the stewardess how beautiful she finds the ring.

Later, the stewardess returns to tell Kimmer she bought the ring during a trip she took with her mom to Dublin, Ireland.

Every shopkeeper there was trying to sell her the ubiquitous Claddah ring...

...but she held firm to wanting something different. After a week of searching, she finally struck gold or, in this case, silver.

It's called a Warrior Ring and it.

Is.

Beautiful.

Definitely not one of those souvenirs positively everyone returns home with. 

Which definitely has a certain appeal. I won't lie.

😊

By the time we pulled into gate at SeaTac, there's about fifteen minutes left in the day. We're running an hour-fifteen late at this point but hey.

We're back in our hometown.

Unfortunately, we'regonna be stuck at the airport another half hour or so because four planes landed around the same time and the bags from each is being fed into the baggage conveyor system one flight at a time. So that's us basically waiting for each flight's luggage to move through the system. 🤨🤔🤬

Soon as we've got our bags, though, we are outta there, up an escalator (no easy feat with all our gear in tow), across a sky bridge, down another escalator (a variation on no easy feat), across the street to Island 1 where I call for a Doug Fox pickup.

Five minutes later, ten minutes later, one shows up down the way and, as we get closer, it fills up. Completely full. Behind it, though, is a second shuttle. A family that was turned away from the first shuttle gets there first. I see the writing on the wall so I ask the driver to hail us a third shuttle.

"How many of you are there?" the driver asks.

"Just two. But we've got a lot of gear" I say, pointing behind me.

"Are you okay with standing for a couple minutes?"

I turn back to Kimmer, repeating the question.

She nods. Grudgingly.

"Yes" I tell the driver.

Kimmer grabs her bags and heads for the shuttle door. Behind me I hear some talking and then I hear Kimmer thank someone profusely.

When eventually I return with gear bags in tow, I discover a dad and son have given up their seats for us.

Holy smokes.

That was super sweet and definitely took the grudge out of her. 😊

Between that and the genuine friendliness of the shuttle driver, we recovered well from any sourness we felt over the delays and inconveniences. It was the second time this night we recovered from a negative spin.

Thankfully.

As the driver said, it was a quick trip to the lot. A couple carloads of travelers, anxious to get home, were off the shuttle with their belongings lightning fast so we were back at our van that fast as well.

By the time we rolled out of the lot, it's quarter to one.

Fifteen minutes until 1AM.

The ride home goes smoothly. No trouble staying awake, that is, and by 'n by (ten minutes until 2AM) we roll into our driveway.

Home.

At last.

Yet still a small surprise awaits.

Okay so when we lived on Capitol Hill, we had a young gentleman take care of our apartment and our cats. During one of his cat-sitting turns for us, he discovered we owned a Light Bright set. So he placed the light pegs to spell out

WELCOME HOME.

It was really very sweet when we walked through the door. More sweet than I would've guessed.

So now we're walking up the drive to see he's found the Christmas lights we strung around our living room's picture window. The Christmas lights I've basically yet to take down. He's found them and turned them on, a lovely, cheerful Welcome Home, frankly, in the middle of the night.

Again. The experience was more sweet than I would've guessed.

It really is lovely to have the tiniest bit of fanfare when we come home from our travels.

And we really really appreciate this one.

☺️

It may have been last year or the year before at the end of one of our travels that I first broached the idea that the end of a vacation, any vacation, can happen before you get home. I think at the time I wrote that we were at a restaurant at John Wayne Airport. A wine bar. Sipping samples as the sun set beyond the far edge of the airfield.

That was the universe stamping The End on that particular trip.

And this one?

When did this one end?

I've gotta say that leaving Kimmer's cousin's place in the campervan merely signaled a continuation of our adventure as we crossed paths this evening and night with the people at Escape Campervan in Inglewood, with the woman who helped us with our bags at Southwest ticketing desk at LAX (not that easy, my friends), with the waiter at that restaurant in San Jose Airport, with that stewardess on our last leg home who told a story about a warrior ring, with the people at baggage claim with whom we valiantly waited in the wee-est hour of the morning, with fellow travelers and a kind driver on a fully packed shuttle bus, with a young man whose job was done at our home who lit up a string of lights at the front of our house to finally welcome us home.

Yeah.

That's where our travels ended this time.

Right there when we got home.

🤔🤨🙂

PS - Interestingly, we got to bed around 3AM, an oddball coincidence with the early morning hour we'd woken up seven mornings before as we prepared to leave for the airport from our overnight hotel near the airport.

3AM.

I hope it's a while before we see that hour again.

🤨

[thedaveandkimmershow]

April 6 Saturday

Yesterday we woke up not at camp. We basically ditched Thursday night, settled into Kimmer's cousin's place and, now that the camping part of our week's over, we're living here.

By the time I get up Friday morning, quarter to eight, Kimmer's cousin's gone. Kimmer's nephew's gone. It's just us and the Chihuahua, Cookie. We got the whole place to ourselves.

I'm guessing Kimmer got up early when she headed out first thing to bid the boys a bonus round of fare-thee-wells whilst I slept.

So...

We transitioned from a camping experience to a living here experience. Until it's time to leave for the airport tomorrow, we're homebound.

By ten in the morning, the rain's subsided, the clouds have parted, the sun's come out. A lovely day but a wet day. Everything remains covered in drops of rain for the time being as I morning stroll to move the van closer.

And yeah. It is like we live here, inside, breakfasting, charging our tech, hanging out, studying, reading and writing. Kimmer's upstairs for a while at her nephew's desk then later moves downstairs to the dining room side of the stone kitchen counter. For me it's the couch. WooHOOOOO!!!

After lunch, around two, Kimmer's down to extend her break from her studies so we head out in the van to the Dollar Tree then next door to Grocery Outlet then down the street some more to Goodwill and Sprouts. Not totally unlike life in the Pacific Northwest if I'm being completely honest. ☺️

Back at the house at quarter passed four, we continue our lazy...

Oops.

Hang on. 

Since we're the only ones here with the dog, we're also the dog's temporary "owner". And it's time for a walk. And it's time for food. So Kimmer fits Cookie with her harness and the two of us (me 'n Cookie) go for a walk to and around the field nearby.

It's actually a pretty relaxing walk under sunny skies on green, green grass with no agenda but to walk.

Soon as we're home again, Cookie runs straight for her dinner as we settle into our own grooves for the next few hours in the house.

If you're wondering, it did actually rain all night the previous night and into morning when the sun finally made a magnificent reappearance. We're not bummed about our decision to bug out. We're having a super relaxed day with plenty of available power to recharge our tech as well as the convenience of running the week's clothes through the washer and dryer.

The flow of time hasn't changed at all.

Around 830 Kimmer cooks dinner to accompany our last bottle of NA Heineken beer and we spend the rest of the evening on the couch watching the final five episodes of Shrinking on AppleTV. Definitely more binge-ing than we'd do at home. Absolutely the kind of thing we'd do on vacation. :-)

By the time we're through the shows (plus another round of strawberries, whipped cream and, this time around, melted chocolate), there's a half-hour left in the day.

As we get ready for bed, we listen to a little more of the Joely Fisher book "Growing Up Fisher: Musings, Memories, and Misadventures". We've been listening to it across the week whenever we were traveling in the van.

Great writing. Crazy story.

And with that our day living in southern California as if we lived in southern California... 

Comes to a close.

☺️

[thedaveandkimmershow]

April 5 Friday

Yesterday morning began around 8 with strategizing.

Why?

Because the sun's gone missing. The temperature dropped ten degrees. The wind's picked up a little. And sprinkles of rain are taunting us.

Leaving us with a question:

Wouldn't we be better off inside?

In the meantime, Kimmer 'n I do the hash browns 'n greek vanilla yogurt breakfast that's become an odd tradition for the week. By quarter to nine, all of us are up and reasonably aware. By 10:30 we make the call to go for a walk on the beach.

This is a Kyle thing he's got in his head so Kimmer 'n I join he and Dylan as we start down the hill, not knowing if we'll even make it through the tunnel that might be flooded. And then after that, how windy and miserably cold would it be on the beach?

We were about to find out.

So we're standing there at the tunnel entrance. At first examination, it seems flooded with water, wall to wall. Look again, though, and you spot sections of mud rising just barely above the water. Very fudgy mud... but pseudo-solid ground nevertheless.

For a moment Kimmer's seriously thinking about turning back. Kyle 'n I are wearing flip flops so I suggest Dylan, who's wearing socks and sports shoes, head back to camp while we trudge ahead. Dylan, however, is game to continue, removing his socks and shoes and, by 'n by, we all come around to continuing this adventure, squishing step by step through the tunnel.

Coming to the end facing the beach, a surprise. Instead of the tunnel floor continuing into beach sand, there's now a drop-off, a waterfall that drops the water flowing through the tunnel two to three feet below into an ever-deepening pool giving way to a channel actively being carved through beach sand all the way to the ocean. From time to time, sand along the edge of the channel will break away and fall into the relentlessly flowing water.

Fortunately for us, to the right of the water falling from the tunnel's exit, is a section where you can step a foot down onto the actual beach and continue on your way.

So we do. 

At this point, the sun's trying to bluntly push through the cloud cover. It's not raining. It's not windy. It's actually not cold.

Not warm, really. But not cold.

For a moment, I take in the panorama of ocean, cliffs, mansions of the rich and anonymous. 

To my right a jogger running along the surf. In the distance, massive cliffs against which the Pacific pummels itself. Up above, a wing of birds in formation approaches us, flies above us. 

And then the sun breaks through.

This is a temporary state of events. The sun is shining through a hole in the clouds that itself is moving, creating a spotlight of sun moving across the beach in front of us, over us, and passed us.

Kimmer 'n I manage a few selfies in the sun before the light escapes down the beach.

After that, the boys break away on their own exploration of the surf and rock formations and tidal life. We do something similar but more like a casual stroll punctuated by photo ops.

We got a lot of pictures down in the beach. The surprise for me was discovering baby barnacles... although maybe they were baby mussels. So small, so young, I wasn't sure.

Definitely the baby sea anemone were a revelation. I didn't know they were protected (or protected themselves) in their earliest stages with bits of broken, colorful shells that fully cover their bodies as if someone had gone crazy with full coverage sprinkles. Then, as the anemone grow, the bits of broken, colorful shells are displaced by soft body.

The last surprise were all the different colors of rock we came across in various formations. Patterns of grey, for example. Green hues. Black. Red. I don't remember the variety of colors from our previous trips.

By 'n by, we make it to another part of the beach where water's streaming from inland in a constant enough flow that it erodes the beach, creating a two to three-foot drop where none existed before, a pool of water more significant than the one at the tunnel, and a channel cut through the beach in a curve down to the water, causing us to look for the best and driest place to cross like a stepping-rock. 🙂

The boys had fun with this, jumping across various sections of channel, "helping" some of the sand along the channel break off more quickly and, yes, sometimes falling on their butts from all this activity with sand that's breaking away.

In the end, the entire endeavor felt like a grade school field trip to the beach and we were the parent volunteers for the day. 🤨

Around 11:40 Kimmer realizes we've gotta get back to camp 'cause we have lunch plans for Ruby's dinner to celebrate Kyle's birthday that's due next Thursday but we're here right now.

So we turn back along the beach, across the channel, through the tunnel, quick stop to wash our feet and flip flops, up the hill, back to camp by quarter passed noon, on the road at twelve-thirty, sliding into our booth for five at quarter to one.

We're improvising off our original plan that was to have birthday dinner at Ruby's and then Kimmer's cousin and the boys would head straight to Irvine from there because of a standing schedule on Friday. Because the sun's gone missing, though, and the rain's establishing its domain, the current plan is to skip out after lunch.

We do Ruby's for an hour or so, delighting in burgers and fries and shakes, family banter, and a bit of photography out front where they have four classic cars on display. Transportation from another age.

Soon's we're back at camp, packing begins for real. 

Kimmer takes her nephew aside a moment on her laptop to pick out his birthday present. He's expressed a wish for a better pillow than the one he's using that's fit for retirement. They check out Amazon and settle on seemingly just the right style that'll arrive the next day. Afterward, Kimmer writes an involved non-birthday birthday card that Kyle appreciates for its non-birthdayness. ☺️

At quarter to three, Kimmer's cousin's gotta head out without the trailer 'cause he's got a tool he's gotta pick up. So he's gonna be making a couple trips to his home.

This is the first.

Meanwhile, the boys begin taking down and folding their tent despite the wind picking up. It's an annoying task but, once they take up their folding task in front of our van where there's hardly any wind, they get the job done.

In the meantime, Kimmer 'n I have retired to the van where she continues her studies and I begin the involved task of tweaking the day's photographs.

Once the boys are all done, though, they join us for a game of Uno Attacks! because they've yet to sit down for cards with Kimmer.

After Kimmer resets our bed into a table 'n comfy benches area where we'll sit down to play, we all pile into the van where the games begin without interference from the wind or the rain.

Derek rolls in quarter after four just after I take a massive beating at the hands of Kimmer, Kyle, and Dylan who each play plus-two cards at me to add a total of six new cards to an already full hand. Not that that's the end of the world, it's just that Kimmer put down her plus-two then Kyle put down his plus-two then Dylan put down his plus-two in a plot twist that defies all logic.

Plus it seemed quite personal with everyone ganging up like that. 🤨☹️🤬 

Later, though, I make a magnificent comeback, calling out "Uno!!!" when finally I'm down to one card and everyone's still holding four to six.

Then Dylan plays his swap-hands card and now I'm the one holding four cards while he's the one calling 'Uno" like a boss.

He wins a coupla minutes later.

All in all it was a severely epic game. Aside from the ups and downs and knives in the back, we went through the full deck once and then, after reshuffling the discards and putting them in play again, we went through a quarter more of that deck before the game came to its merciful end.

It was a long game, is what transpired.

A loooooooooong long game. 

By the end I could hardly concentrate. For a minute there I almost thought we were playing Go Fish again.

Anyway...

The game wraps, Kimmer's cousin returns, and the rest of our camp is packed up, leaving us with the awning over the picnic table. 

We won't be bringing that awning back with us, by the way. It's pretty much done for after fifteen years of consistent use along the ocean, near lakes, in forests, and out in the desert. So when we're done and ready to leave, we'll collapse it and throw it away.

For now, we're waving our family a fare-thee-well as they take to the road, teardrop trailer in tow.

We even run over to the road they'll use as they loop around so we can wave to them some more.

And then they're away.

We walk back to our van and back it up to the picnic table and tarp. Then we settle down inside at the table again, splitting a beer and hummus and rice chips while Kimmer studies and I continue tweaking the day's photographs including the family snaps I took before Derek and the boys took off.

While we're inside, the weather does a number of things. At five thirty the sun appears briefly on its way down and I take a couple photographs of the van with our travel companion, Oatmeal Bear, seated on the dashboard between the steering wheel and the windshield.

With the weather seemingly cooperating, Kimmer takes the opportunity to reorganize all of our stuff in the van so it makes more sense.

Then, back to our table we go and the weather gets worse.

More rain. More wind.

It gets darker outside.

Nighttime. Falling.

And all our tech needs repowering. Everything's running out of juice and this.

Is not going well.

So we kick around the idea of leaving now, not the next day. There's a little friction in the decision-making because we're bailing on a certain amount of money we paid that we won't get back. So we call Kimmer's cousin around quarter past seven and he laaaaaaaaaaaaughs.

Because he knew it.

And tells us to get over there.

Now.

All we have to do before we leave is toss the awning. All we have to do is remove the fabric and collapse the metal frame.

No sweat.

Only...

We actually can't figure out how to collapse the metal frame opting, ultimately, for breaking it and forcibly bending and twisting pieces off and forcing all of it into an awkward metal pile heaved into one of those big trash containers with the black plastic lids you usually see out back of restaurants and grocery stores.

Got one of my fingers pinched along the way but we got 'er done.

Eventually.

And in the rain.

Quarter to eight we're on the road to Trade Joe's to grab some dinner we'll heat up later.

On our way into the store I ask Kimmer if we need to pick up some water as well because we're almost out. And she says

"No. We're not camping anymore."

In my mind, that statement marks the end of our camping experience this week.

So we arrive back at her cousin's place around eight forty-five, loading our personal bags and food from the van into the house before parking the van on the street.

By this time, Kimmer's cousin is bringing his day to a close so we don't see him much before he goess to bed.

In no time, Kimmer's got our Trader Joe's meat pies up and running and we settle on the couch with Kyle who's recommending we watch a show he 'n Kimmer watched the last time she was here.

The AppleTV series, "Shrinking".

Halfway through the first five shows, we hit Pause and I put together bowls of strawberries, ice cream, and whipped cream for everyone. No ice cream for Kyle, though, because he says ice cream and whipped cream don't go together.

Whatever. 😑

By the time I finish the fifth episode around quarter passed midnight, Kimmer's already in bed. 

And Kyle's asleep.

He's actually asleep even though I thought he was watching the show with me this whole time.

So I put our bowls away. 

Turn out the lights. 

And walk up the stairs to go to bed. 

🙂

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Thursday, April 4

Yesterday morning my wife was a very bad wife. (And not in a good way) She got me to get out of bed completely against my will taking advantage of the fact I also had to use the bathroom really bad.

Next thing I know I'm hustling for the bathroom only to discover it was being cleaned...

So it was closed.

Meaning I had to hustle up to the campground above us before finding Relief. 

Kimmer laughed herself silly the whole time.

Not. Cool.

In the meantime, over at the grill, her cousin's discovered that, while we all were sleeping, birds set about making a nest on one side of the grill that's set lower.

Incredible.

He had to fish all the sticks and tiny branches out of there before starting in on the morning's cooking.

No idea how to prevent this the next morning because in the afternoon while all the adults were away, the birds started in again building the nest from scratch.

Whaaaaaaat???

"We weren't paying attention" said the boys in their defense.

Oy.

By the way, the morning was a bright shiny morning in preparation for a warm lovely day. I know because Kimmer's first attempt at waking me up was simply to throw open the doors of the van and allow the bright rays of sun to assault me as if I were a vampire.

By the time the morning's drama is over and I'm back from the bathroom and we have a pretty much vanilla yogurt centered breakfast...

We head out for a morning walk that, if we lived in a warmer climate, we'd probably do every morning at home. We walked over to the main street then up the hill then walked each of the campground loops, spying each of the RVs and camp setups, saying good morning to the people we passed, and observing the occasional couples gazing out at the waters of the Pacific Ocean from their camp chairs. We walked our loop twice before starting up the van and hitting the road.

Hitting the road?

Yeah. I accidentally left my polar fleece at Kimmer's cousin's place so went back for that. And, since we were there, you know, we took advantage of the showers, the electrical outlets for charging our tech, and Kimmer cooked up a new batch of two dozen chocolate chip cookies. We also have a list of stuff we've gotta buy, at the top of the list being a replacement hose for the one I thoroughly scorched the previous night. Then we're picking up semisweet chocolate chips, hot chocolate, and eggs at Ralph's along with the Trader Joe's organic lemonade and orange seltzer from the refrigerator we forgot to grab when we left the first time.

It's a bit of a list and we deal with it by splitting up. Kimmer handles the baking and charting she's gotta do. I hit the store for everything but the eggs and the replacement hose. I do, however, score a tall dark drip coffee for my lovely wife before returning to the house.

Two forty five we're back on the road again because a mutual friend's gonna meet up at camp. 

Three thirty we're sitting around the picnic table catching up, plowing through freshly baked cookies, splitting a non-alcoholic Heinekin, and even getting in a pair of rounds of Uno Attacks! with the boys amidst the conversation.

It was a really sweet and relaxing time under the noonday sun, catching up, telling stories... until it was time to go our separate ways. 😕

530 we're on the road again, stopping by the Trader Joe's not a mile down the road just to figure out where we're going. Our mission is to purchase a replacement propane hose because we burned the one the previous night. To find that replacement we've gotta find the nearest Home Depot which turns out to be in Costa Mesa which also, as I think about it now, well... we woulda done better just going back to Irvine to get everything we needed. Instead we took a long drive to Costa Mesa as the sun was setting. We scored the replacement propane hose then drove over to the nearby Trader Joe's for the eggs I didn't get that afternoon plus a birthday card for Kimmer's nephew whose birthday's next Thursday but we're gonna celebrate today.

Kimmer needs to pick up some allergy meds so I plot the closest Target that ends up being in...

Irvine.

Whoops.

Did not see that coming.

We pass John Wayne Airport. We pass exit signs for familiar Irvine streets. So we call it a night and head back to camp that, by this point, is actually 18 minutes away.

By the time we're back, it's almost 8.

We spend a little time around the campfire spinning our tale of shopping woe, I spend a little time writing while evening lattes are prepared, then I join the boys at the table for a few EPIC rounds of Uno Attacks!

I won't tell you exactly how we made it epic. Let's just say we added some of our own personal flourishes to the game after each play. Especially when a particular play screwed someone.

At some point, we became aware of a number of mice scurrying about the ground around us. Under our table sometimes. I don't know what to tell you but eventually they completely spooked Kyle's friend's Dylan who could no longer concentrate on the game, eventually taking up guard on a camp chair situated right in front of their tent.

He was armed with a mini blower that he wielded as a warning to all mice wherever they might be.

Any mouse he saw got a rush of air that sent them scurrying. Even mice who weren't actually there got a blast.

They really got in his head and it was a helluva thing.

By the time we called the game it was around 930. The boys retired to their tent, making sure mice were not afoot, and I joined Kimmer in the van for the next hour and a half whilst she finished her studies for the evening.

Around 11pm we called it a night. Turned off the lamps. Pulled the blankets tight around us.

And went to sleep.

☺️