I now know how a black person feels when they visit Utah. Our first night in Orlando and my dad picks a place called Mama Nem’s for dinner. The soul food restaurant in a strip mall about 20 minutes from our hotel (the Marriott Grand Vista) came recommended. By whom I’m not sure but there we were; hesitantly shuffling past a sranding-room-only waiting area of black people all staring at us as if we were lost. Two white seniors, two white adults and a little white girl who kind of looks like the All-American Kid. The only white people in the entire place! We held our heads high and waited to be seated. It was like that scene in Animal House just before the guys come up to Boone and say “Do you mind if we dance wif yo dates?”
Everyone was extremely nice; the hostess grabbed a piece of melt-in-your mouth cornbread for Sage while we waited. After about 5 minutes, however, mom was visibly uncomfortable. Let’s go, she said. It was the wait not the company that bothered her. They had caught the redeye from San Diego to Orlando last night with very little sleep. The hostess had said it would be another half hour….until we offered to seat Sage in a high chair at a four-top instead of a bigger table. All of a sudden it was 10. They didn’t want us to leave!
The restaurant itself wasn’t much. Zero atmosphere. WE were the atmosphere- for tonight anyway. It was hilarious. But when I tried to take a photo of my parents from across the table. Ryan stopped me and said it was rude. HUH? He accused me of trying to take a picture of black people (like when I took a photo of these girls lined up in bikinis outside of my acting class just because I’d never seen anything like it?) OMG could he be serious? I take my camera everywhere and I shoot it everywhere- including dinner. Tonight I told him that he was the rude one for making me act differently just because we were in an all-black restaurant.
Bikinis on Main
The food soon arrived, piled high on the table. Collard greens, fried green tomatoes, mac n cheese, fried chicken, ribs, corn, fried shrimp, mashed red potatoes. All of the usual heavy southern foods. The sides were on the money, the main dishes not so much. The ribs held very little meat and our chicken was dry- Sage took one bite of her drum stick and handed it to Ryan. But I’ll tell you- even when Sage got off the high chair and started boogieing in the middle of the room to the hiphop music overhead, they didn’t rush us out.
We drove back to the hotel a bit weary from the experience. Tomorrow we test out our Disney World tickets. I got them off eBay and the seller dropped them at the hotel this afternoon. I’ve read the warnings and posts all over the web. Don’t buy tickets on Craigslist or eBay because there’s no way to tell if the ticket’s already been used but the dude had near 100 percent feedback and I used my credit card. Worst case scenario: the tickets are confiscated, we buy at the gate for the regular price and I dispute the charge on my card. I’ve always been one of those people who had to “learn the hard way”. We’ll see what happens tomorrow. Wish me luck!
Survived the longest tram line in history on Friday, skied insanely deep snow on the last day of April and the night skies are clear. We’ve got some lovely mountain biking in Fruita, Colo. this weekend.
Just checked into the Balance Rock Motel– it’s quiet, clean and perfect for an early rise and shine. We had planned to ‘rough it’ but the weather turned nasty this week. The ground is a tad wet and Sage has a wet cough. Though she’s in good spirits and was really looking forward to camping, I decided to do the responsible parent thing and stay in a motel.
There are only a handful in town (more in Grand Junction) and with the Fat Tire Fest happening this weekend, we got lucky. Three rooms left at the Rock. We were pleasantly surprised with what our $50 bought us. The intermittent refrigerator whir is a bit disruptive but other than that, the bed is a king, the room is clean and smoke free and there’s plenty of room to stash our bikes. It’s pet friendly for a price but Tenaya’s fine in the car. I’m just psyched that Ryan agreed to bring her along. The old girl doesn’t get out much but this is the perfect roadtrip for her. Since one of us will be with baby Sage at all times, Tenaya can hang at a slow pace. She doesn’t have to run on the trails or stay by the car. She also doesn’t need to worry about over heating. It’s cold! 29 degrees tonight.
Though there are ample camping spots throughout the area, it’s convenient and smart to stay in a motel when the ground is wet and the freeze cycle is still spinning. The days are forecasted in the mid 50s and partly sunny. Ideal riding weather. Ok, I’d prefer 60s but at least it won’t snow on us.
We left SLC in the middle of the storm. Snowbird had the best two powder days all season and I got to ski this morning. At 6:30 pm we were driving to Price. At 11 pm we had made it to town. Despite the Fest, the place was quiet. All closed up for the night. We saw stars. Loads of them. Whew. The dark streets slapped under our wheels from the dusk rain. I best sleep now. We’ve got a busy day ahead. Glad to be here. I like these crossover spring weekends.
Ooh, boy, am I going to have a serious bout of jetlag when I get home. It’s 3:43 a.m. in Utah…but only 11:43 at night in Maui. We just got back from one of those cheesy luaus where the food is mediocre, the show kitsch and yet you still wind up having a great time. It helps that there’s an open bar with the tender free pouring. And that I can never get enough of watching Sage dance and enjoy herself. A few more days and we’ll be back in town and I’ll be wondering what happened to the summer. Like Goto our 60-year-old Japanese surf instructor in Lahaina said about the waves: You wait and wait then all of a sudden it’s on top of you so you better be ready to paddle hard and ride otherwise you’ll miss it. Is that a bad thing, really? When the falls and winters are so spectacular along the Wasatch and down south? I feel like such a loser that I’ve climbed a handful of times at Rockreation, scaled the cliffs above the Needles gondola at Snowbasin once and done two hikes. How could I be this lame when I used to have multi-sport days? Now, I’m lucky if I get in a multi-sport week. I can’t blame motherhood. Ryan would watch Sage after 4pm if I asked him. I can blame the heat, the finishing touches of construction, the prohibitive high price of the only local gym in town (that needs a serious dose of humility- 24-hr Fitness won’t you please open up a branch in Park City?). But now that it’s gotten cooler, the Stump Jumper is begging for a spin. It’ll happen when I get home seeing as at home there’s no surf to tackle. Did I mention that I am the queen of the big foam board? I stood up on every wave I caught and rode it in until I felt it was time to paddle out. Pretty cool sport. And Lahaina, Maui, has got to be one of the best spots for learning. They call them surf farms- the schools that teach out there; dragging classes of 5 to 8 people each out to places like the Breakwall. And some bitch did put her board between my legs as she cut me off in mid-surf. But it’s not like we don’t experience the same on any given powder day. The good spots are bound to be packed. Goto, the Mr. Myagi of surfing, also compared the experience to driving on the freeway- you get in your lane and go. Don’t worry about the other drivers. Wish I could stay another two weeks here and hone the surfing- maybe get up on a hard board (or at least try) but the time will soon arrive to head back and kick the mountain sports back into gear. Maui’s been great though. The highlights- surfing, of course, having Matthew Murasko from Olukai Footwear take us through the Bamboo Forest just off the Hana Highway, brilliant sunsets, snorkeling in Honoloa Bay and watching Sage go nuts for the water (in the jetted tub, the pools at the Westin and the ocean). Tomorrow we’ll do the Maui Onion Festival with my parents. I hope they’ll have Maui onion rings so that the next time I dine on onion rings in some stateside restaurant I can brag that I had real Maui onion rings in Maui.
I think I shall ski tomorrow. Yes, Snowbird is still open and yes I’m still interested in making turns. I know it’s supposed to be summer but the trails are too muddy for hiking or biking and the mountains are still covered in snow. I’ll admit, part of my motivation is a story I’m working on about the economics of late season skiing (check out the IndustryReport.com June 16) but the other is that I’m desperate for exercise. I climbed at Rockreation with Kristen last Wednesday and that was about it since my week in Mammoth May 16 where I skied one day and snowboarded (or shall I say, got my body pummelled) one day. I’m committed to climbing at least once a week but I really thought I would be moved into my new office – stairstepper and all- by now and back to my workout regime. Best laid plans. My sheetrock guy went to jail for a week on cocaine charges and the momentum jerked to a halt. Needless to say, I didn’t welcome him back after his stint in the “graybar motel”. I’ve already unwittingly had my camera and watch stolen since construction began, I don’t need to attach a neon sign to my things now. So I still have a bunch of little things let to finish.
The thrift store finally hauled off my entertainment center and my parents big screen TV. Funny. I thought that piece of rear projection history would be worth a whole lot more than whatever that 5-n-dime in Heber is going to sell it for. Sigh. It was one of the first ever on the scene. I dragged it out from San Diego and it worked great until I upgraded with the folks’ next hand-me-down. Then it sat in the garage collecting dust; failing to sell at last year’s yard sale and throughout the year on Craigslist.
Tomorrow, I’ll ski and forget all about it. I hear it’s mid-winter up there. Looking forward to the bragging afterwards. “I skiied the last day of May.” And next week, I’ll have “skiied the first weekend of June.” We are promised turns at least until Dad’s Day. No word yet on Fourth of July skiing but no matter. Ryan, Sage and I are off to Boston to visit his parents. Who would have thought that this whitebred American Jewish chick would wind up with a Portuguese (non-practicing) Catholic? I did always have a thing for dark, handsome foreigners. It started around the time The Godfather won those Oscars.
Sage Signs For More
Speaking of which, those gorgeous blue eyes of hers are here to stay! Her mousy blond hair is past her shoulders and although I clipped her some bangs to keep the strands from getting glued to her snot nose in the mornings, they have grown past her nose again. She can point to most all the parts of her body, she still loves baths and when we watch “So You Think You Can Dance,” she actually drops to the floor and tried to breakdance. I promise to video this soon so you can all chuckle with us. It’s too cute. She’s also learning to jump up and down. She does great in her crib but only gets one foot off at a time when she’s on the ground. She occasionally gets them both airborn but when she lands, she falls. Tomorrow I bet she gets it. Her words are coming along and it sure helps that she knows sign. Otherwise, it would be hard to figure out whether she wanted the book or the ball, juice or shoes, cracker, cookie or cheese. It’s so much easier to communicate with her. But I forget how important it is to teach everyone else the signs too. My mom whined when she spent the day with her in Mammoth. She laughed and scolded me because Sage signed to her all day long and she couldn’t understand a single word or figure out what Sage wanted. Oh the poor things!
So now at 21 months, Sage can say (and sign) More, Ball, Book, Please, Cheese, Da-EE, Mama, Juice, Food, Shoes. She can sign- shirt, pants, bath, hug, baby, boy, yes, thank you, diaper, poop, toes, dirty, water, cracker, cookie, dog, sleep, pacifier, milk, up, down, and I’m sure there are some I missed.
When we read Goodnight Moon, she points to the pictures in the book as I say them- Goodnight Cow jumping over the moon, goodnight brush, goodnight stars. I ask her where the balloon is and she puts her finger on the image. I have no idea if she’s smarter than the average toddler but it’s so thrilling to see what was once a lump, interacting and responding like a little human being.
Tenaya is her protector. If she’s not sleeping at the side of my bed, she’s curled up at the baby’s door. Must be those scraps she snags from the highchair at mealtime. Only takes a few snips of bacon to know who your best friend should be.
Well, I best hit the hay if I want to have any energy for the slushfest tomorrow. The forecast stated 60 degrees and sunny in the mountains! Toodles.
Sage is seven weeks old. Boy, time flies when you’re changing diapers and nursing. Everyone has asked me that universal question: How are you doing? I’m fine …and probably better than most new moms from what those who have seen me say. I don’t feel quite rested 24/7 but I do get some sleep and although my tummy is too soft for my liking, I don’t feel fat. Knowing that I was never a kid person and lived quite the selfish life, you’ll be pleased to know that I still get around, still go to movies and out to dinner, still have tons of fun and Sage is a dream child 80 percent of the time. Yes, there is the occasional hour or night when she’s a female Damian but for the most part I couldn’t be luckier or happier. She sleeps long enough for me to get 30 minutes in on my stairstepper, to do laundry, eat breakfast, respond to email and complete a 12-hour roadtrip to Yosemite. We got back last night from the national park and the poor thing didn’t scream once from being strapped to a carseat for what seemed like an eternity. She wailed only when she wanted my boob and we would either feed her the bottle or make a ‘nurse’ stop. I’m starting to exercise again. I was such a slacker the last few months. We climbed two days in Yosemite and I have a Stroller Strides class in Salt Lake City tomorrow morning. All I can say is that motherhood isn’t as bad as everyone has made it out to be. It hasn’t changed my life so completely yet that I have any regrets or feel like I’ve “lost myself.” I tell people that having a child is like having 12 puppies. You’re busier than you ever wanted to be but she is so adorable it makes up for any inconvenience. And all I want to do is hold her so I guess it’s my own fault I’m getting nothing else done these days.
