Recovery from Catalina

It was too nice a piano to leave sitting dormant.

Most people travel to Catalina to relax. There is no such thing as relaxing anywhere one might travel with the group accompanying me.

Today was a nice day in that Baby Camille reached a milestone weight of 5 pounds (we had a nice celebretory breakfast) and because  Baby Andrew did not reject me as a result of my having I left him in the care of others for a few days. 

It was also a very good day because once we got through the morning routine, Baby Andrew and I took a nap. Someone must have gotten him up after a reasonable interval -- I have no memory of him trying to wake me up -- but no one disturbed me. I woke up some time after 9:00 p.m. The dinner dishes had been done, the babies had been put to bed -- or Camille had been temporarily put to bed, anyway. It's never long before she'll be up and eating again. 

Someone had saved dinner for me, which was New York strip steak, salad, twice-baked potatoes, garlic bread, grapes, and sherbet. I ate about one-quarter of what was on my plates. The rest will make excellent snacks and side meals for me. I love it when I have a home or restaurant meal (particularly a home meal; home meals that are well-prepared agree with my gastric system much more than do restaurant meals, which contain ingredients to which my body is not accustomed) that I really like that's far to much for me to comsume, and I'm set for the next three days or so.

We did most of what there was to do on Catalina, including parasalining (twice!), jet skiiing, sailing, going out in a small motor boat, driving all over the island in golf carts, miniature golfing on what has to be the second-lousiest putt-putt golf course in the U.S. (the worst, I'm pretty sure, is in Watonga, Oklahoma), humoring the kid entertainment performing nightly on the pavillion (we applauded excessively, asked for their autographs, and did all the things that make little middle-school-aged kids feel great about theselves; their parents were most pleased with us, and we weren't even drunk!), hung out in hotel rooms, and took over the vacant piano bar in the hotel one night. Because of the tips, we went home with almost as much cash as we brought. I didn't have my violin with me as I had no clue that there would be any use for it, but someone had left one behind the bar which the bar tender allowed me to use.  it may have increased our tips a bit. I didn't do the obnoxious behavior of approaching tables and serenading them unsolicited, but if they summoned me over, I played what they wanted. Timmy and Matthew are both more or less good enough to follow along on piano, and both have reasonably good singing voices, as does Meredith. We were only in there for two nights, but still pocketed well over five hundred dollars in tips.

Catalina isn't really known for its outstanding hotels, but Uncle Jerry did the best he could for us. We were in probably what was the nicest hotel on the island. Many of the "hotels" there are rustic old houses which, while charming in their own ways, aren't terribly comfortable. Some, for example, don't have air conditioning. On Catalina, it's nice to have access to air conditioning about two-and-one-half months out of the year. We needed it this time and were fortunate to be in one of the few hotels that has AC in every room. 

It was a nice little diversion. While I was prepared to have spent my summer doing nothing but baby-related tasks, the break was nice, and it was nice to spend time with friends close to my own age. Baby Andrew will probably be my friend for the rest of my life, but at this point there's a limit in the quality of companionship he is able to offer. 

I leave in twenty-one days to return to school. I'm neither dreading nor eagerly anticipating it. I think, or at least I hope, that I'll get excited about it once i'm there. Once the competitive juices begin to flow, I suspect I'll remember why it was that I chose medical school.

Sam Walton and My Dad

My dad despises Sam Walton. Some would say he despised Sam Walton since Sam Walton has been dead for  a few years, but my dad's utter abhorrence for some of Sam Walton's  business practices (in particular, underpaying employees and driving out small businesses)  is immortal.   I know other people who aren't crazy about such things, and even a few people who boycott Walmart, but I don't think anyone feels as strongly about it as my dad does. He has multiple T-shirts, which he actually wears in public,  with anti-Walmart sentiments. Once we went to dinner at my grandparents' house, and when my dad found out that they had purchased most of the food they served us at a Walmart (they probably did it on purpose; they know how much my dad hates Walmart; everyone who knows my dad knows how much he hates Walmart), he wouldn't eat  the meal.  I shudder  to think of what might have happened if they had told him they bought their toilet paper at WalMart.

Several years ago my mom, my  brother, and I were driving with my mom's sister totally in the sticks in  Oklahoma for some reason that I can't quite recall when we came to a sign that said, "Birthplace of Sam Walton."  We stopped, and my aunt took a picture of my mom, my brother, and me posed right in front of the infamous Sam Walton  sign. My aunt had the picture made into Christmas cards and sent them to my dad as a favor. He threw them en masse into our fireplace.

I've never been inside a Walmart.  If someone took a picture of me when I went inside a Walmart and showed it to my dad, I would probably be disinherited, not that my parents own anything  anyone would want to inherit.

I don't have a copy of the actual picture with my mom, my brother, and myself in front of the sign. No one  bothered to keep a copy.