Starting at 9pm Pacific Time on December 31, no fare will be charged for any service on Metro bus and rail lines.  The rail lines and the Orange bus line will operate all night every 2o minutes.  Regular fares start up again at 2AM on New Year’s Day (so get your drunk ass home before then or it’ll cost you $1.25 for travel in one direction). 

Additionally, Metro urges you to use the Gold Line on Friday for the Rose Parade and Rose Bowl game.  Special shuttles will travel from the Sierra Madre Villa station to the viewing grounds where you can see the Rose Parade floats after the parade is over (12:30 to 2:30PM).

If you are not in Los Angeles, you can watch the parade on ABC, Hallmark Channel, HGTV, KTLA (Tribune), NBC, RFD-TV, Travel Channel, and Univision.

In late August a group of us spent a Sunday in Pacifica, California. I’d have done this post earlier but somehow or another Lisa didn’t manage to upload all the pictures until just recently, so I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.

My brother-in-law, RS, currently engaged in a battle with kidney cancer, grew up in Pacifica and has fond memories of this small coastal town. Our decision to visit Pacifica was for him, to allow him to relive some memories of a better time in his life.

Before that weekend, my only tryst with Pacifica had been a sort of impromptu beach party one cold weekend afternoon during my San Francisco State days. A group of us ended up on a foggy beach with several packs of Kent cigarettes and a case of beer. Our exploration of Pacifica did not really extend beyond the bottom of our beer cans and the tips of our smokes.

Pacifica is a coastal town located between San Francisco and Half Moon Bay. Take note would-be visitors – Pacifica is a Northern California coast town, which means that it spends most of its life cloaked in fog and 50-60 degree temperatures. Our destination that day – the Lighthouse Hotel and Pacifica’s famed Rockaway Beach.

The Lighthouse Hotel- located at the end of Rockaway Beach Ave, the main drag through the little knot of shops and restaurants that form the bedrock of commerce at Rockaway Beach – is a somewhat weather-beaten structure that doesn’t quite live up to the freshly painted, sun-drenched image in the brochure. The rooms have sort of a too-lived in look about them, but for a one-night stay and a beach front location, I wasn’t complaining. There’s also a Holiday Inn Express a stone’s throw or two down the beach, which looks like it may be a little newer, and perhaps, just perhaps, a little better cared for.

Given the motivation for our visit, we did not go to Rockaway to get our party on. The plan was 24-hours of beach combing, eating, relaxation and reflection. Upon arriving we grabbed some food at Rock’n Rob’s, located a vacant hotel patio, and ate a quick lunch. After tossing our bags in the room we went to check out the beach. It was a windy day and the water was like ice, so naturally the kids went straight for the ocean.

We spent the next several hours enjoying the beach, engaging in obligatory beach activities (we must have a dozen bags of rocks, shells and sea glass from beaches nationwide) before retiring to the hotel hot tub.  As the weather continued to cool and it became time to think about eating again, we decided to make dinner really simple and have pizza delivered to the hotel from one of the local joints. We all gathered in my mother-in-laws room and splayed ourselves across the two queen-beds, munching pizza and watching TV.  However, the next time I visit Pacifica, (and there will be a next time) I’d like to check out Nick’s, which is right across the street from The Lighthouse Hotel.  I’m not saying I’ll take part in the dancing, but I can definitely get behind the drinks, dining and ocean views that Nick’s has to offer. Oh, who am I kidding? After a few drinks I’ll get behind and on top of the dancing. But I digress.

Later that night, Lisa and I took a stroll further down the beach and came across a gentleman tending to a little fire in a little cove while waiting for his wife to toddle over from the Holiday Inn. Apparently she had not been feeling well, and he’d been tending the flame for over an hour. We got to chatting and enjoying his fire.  He and his wife were from Sacramento, and discovered Rockaway Beach and Pacifica several years ago. Prior to their discovery, when they wanted some beach time they would make the drive down the coast to Carmel and Monterey. He told us they like Pacifica not only because it’s much closer, but because it’s more secluded and still remains largely undiscovered.

The next morning, a few of us decided to have breakfast at the on-site restaurant, The Ristorante Portofino. Being a Monday morning, the place was pretty empty; however the lack of diners did nothing to speed up the service. We must have stood there for five minutes waiting to be seated. Then, because we asked for a window seat, (why not, right??) we had to wait for them to clean a table. Several times during breakfast I got up to refill my own coffee cup from the waiter’s coffee station. The wait time did give me a chance to take a walk, and snap some pictures of a nearly deserted Rockaway Avenue.

After breakfast, check-out, and the joy of packing and loading the car, we made the short drive south on Hwy 1 to check out Linda Mar Beach, a popular surfing spot. But RS informed us that, much like Cubs and White Sox fans, those who grow up in Pacifica form strong allegiances to either Rockaway Beach or Linda Mar. Being a Rockaway boy, RS stayed true to his alliance, and watched the rest of us explore the beach from the car.

I hereby pledge my allegiance to Rockaway, and look forward to my next visit.

(All photos by Lisa or Joe Romano)

As I mentioned in my previous entry, I joined my husband last weekend up in Flagstaff, since he had to work a job up there and the hotel room was, therefore, free.

On Saturday night we went out on the town. We’re trying not to spend a whole lot of money, these days – I think everyone is feeling that way, lately. So our goal was to have as much fun and hit as many places as we could, for as little money as possible.

First we stopped at Altitudes and had a beer ($3.25 each – we like microbrews, domestic beer is cheaper), and we split the hummus plate with veggies and pita triangles ($6.99). We lounged there for a good hour, watching college football and conversing with the bartenders. Grand total spent (including a $5 tip): $19.84.

Next we drove across Route 66, parked the truck on one of the infamous one-way streets, and walked over to Monsoons. Happy hour dumplings (six dumplings), and a plate of lettuce wraps (enough for four) ran us $7.00 total. We sat and watched the world go by and conversed. My husband had a beer ($2.50) and I had a rum and coke ($4.00) Grand total spent (including a $5 tip): $19.45.

Then we wrapped up there and walked down to Rendezvous, a little coffee house/wine bar in the Hotel Monte Vista. I had a FANTASTIC 12-year-old Scotch (Glenmorangie) for $9.00, and my husband had a beer for $3.50. I occupied myself taking mood-lit pictures as we chatted with the bartender about the supposed-hauntings that take place in the hotel. I got permission from the hotel manager to wander around and take a few pictures of the establishment, but no ghosts we revealed, either in person or in the photos. Grand total spent (including a $5.00 tip): $18.38.

From there we walked to Collin’s Irish Pub. We watched some more football, my husband had a beer ($2.50) I had a Harp Snakebite ($3.50), and we split their sampler platter of potato skins, chicken fingers, fried shrimp, jalapeno poppers, and onion rings ($7.99). Grand total spent (including a $5.00 tip): $19.97.

So we hit four establishments in five hours, and spent about $20 at each place. $80 for a couple for a full night out on the town, including the wonderful fall night air and all of the people-watching that Flagstaff has to offer, isn’t a bad deal at all!

Photo credits (all): Laura Charon.

Look, I – as well as most guys – can understand the need to run things by our significant others before acting on them. Yes, a call from Blockbuster before renting True Romance and Bladerunner for ‘date night’ would be nice. No, not everyone appreciates bourbon being on sale when told to run out and grab some wine for the dinner party. Michael Jordan posters do not make for a proper engagement gift, etc.

I understand. We all should.

Which is what makes this quirky little story even better.

See, about 15 years ago, a wealthy builder in the Los Angeles area decided to surprise his wife. Not with a coat or a car or botox or whatever else rich people buy each other here, but with a house.

Sure, surprising her with the question of ‘would you like this’ isn’t wrong, and let’s give the guy some credit, even going ahead and making it for her carries some old-fashioned romanticism.

But the place cost $23.75 million to build.

Let me go head and write it like this so you know you’re not reading it wrong:

23,750,000. Dollars. American Dollars.

It sat on 5.33 acres with an insane view of the ocean [at that price, I’m quite sure this failing economy would have sold them some of the ocean for their very own], 10 bedrooms, 11 baths, gardens, rooms for everything, space for everything – basically, everything.

Quite the surprise, no? I think so. I mean, so what if he didn’t tell her where the occasional few million had been disappearing to for a few years, it was for love and what woman wouldn’t be touched by such a grand gesture?

Apparently – his wife.

They spent one weekend there and she informed him that it was simply too far away from the city and she didn’t want it.

Just like that.

Now, the good news is that it has since dropped to 19.9 million seeing how for some reason, others don’t see the allure either – well, one might have, but he’s dead.

Oh sure, there have been numerous rap videos shot there, even a few films, parties and weddings, etc – so it’s not 100% untouched, but still, worth a peek. I mean, even if 20 people could go in a mil as some sort of timeshare… just thinking outloud here.

Needless to say, I had to find this place – and it wasn’t easy, seeing how I don’t drive. Meaning the gf [who has since not received one surprise from me, understandably] had to. And it’s out there – which I suppose is a bit superfluous to state.

But should you find yourself with an extra few hours and love of making fun of a-holes who have that much money, then you too can see the place – at least, the outside area.

Take the Pacific Coast Highway to Morning View drive and then look for the big ole gate with the lions in front. You might have just enough time before the security guard comes out to take a photo, but even then asking him ’soooooo – really? 25 mil?’ is fun.

Oh, we do love when the mighty fall, don’t we?

Photos by me. More here if you like me as much as I do.

I don’t know about you guys, but my family starts wishing for our next vacation the second we get home from our last vacation. Having as much time in advance for planning makes it a lot easier to pull together the required funds. About once a year we plan a “big” vacation, and once we’ve got a destination in mind, and a general cost figured out, we start working toward saving the money.

And again, I don’t know about you guys, but my family lives RIGHT up to the edge of its means, every single month. With our paychecks exiting the bank account every bit as quickly as they’re deposited, it’s a challenge to find the wiggle room to set aside money for vacation. Here are five ways to save money every month.

#1 – You were going to spend it anyway, so put it away instead. The next time you plan to drop, say, $50 on dinner at a sit-down restaurant, spend $20 at a fast food joint instead, and put the remaining $30 in an interest-bearing savings account. If you get into the habit of down-scaling your plans and setting the extra money aside, you’ll be shocked at how quickly it adds up.

#2 – Somebody will pay you good money for your stuff. Seriously, you may not have cracked open that junk closet in a while. There’s probably a ton of stuff that you haven’t used in months or years that someone else would be interested in buying. Hold a yard sale, or start up an Ebay account. Don’t be afraid of your local pawn shop, either. You can probably get a better price for your old jewelry than one of those mail-in cash for gold deals, which only give you the melt-down value.

#3 – Get a seasonal part-time job. Just about every department store and retail outlet and mall needs extra help during the holidays. Sure, it’s no fun dealing with a second job if you’re already working full-time (either inside the house or outside of it), but if you keep your vacation goals in mind, it will be less of a hardship to pack up people’s purchases while you’re daydreaming about a tropical island. Just make sure you set that extra paycheck aside into a savings account, rather than letting life whittle it away.

#4 – Make like a squirrel. Got a five burning a hole in your pocket? Stick it in an envelope and shut it away in your dresser. Every time you find yourself with a spare bill – $1, $5, $10, $20 – add it to that envelope. And the coffee can you’ve got sitting in the corner holding your spare change probably has more money in it than you realize. Keep tossing your lint-covered pennies in there, then when the can is full take it to a coin kiosk and exchange it for cash. Then stick that in the envelope in your dresser, too.

#5 – Every time you’re under budget on something, set aside the difference. For instance, I have a monthly budget of $350 for our electricity bill. In the winter, that bill can drop to as little as $150. That’s two hundred dollars that was in our budget that is now free to be wasted… or, put into our vacation savings account. My weekly grocery budget is $150 – sometimes I can come in at around $120. Then I put the extra $30 into the vacation savings.

By employing these simple, relatively pain-free tips, you’ll find yourself well prepared for your vacation when the day finally arrives. Look at us, being all thrifty and responsible!

Photo Credits (in order of appearance):
- “Tropical Beach” by Aaron Escobar on Flickr Creative Commons.
- “In acceptance, there is peace” by Zaqography on Flickr Creative Commons.
- “Serenity Beach at Castaway Cay” by Pikmin on Flickr Creative Commons.

As previously mentioned, the family spent a little time in Tennessee earlier this month. Admittedly, most of the time was spent taking full advantage of my in-laws lake front home. I couldn’t find much to complain about, what with the gourmet meals, nightly karaoke (Much to my surprise I discovered that I’m a mic hog) and instant access to all variety of lake activities. The boy learned how to bait a hook and spent many an hour paddling around trying to land a biggin, while the girl morphed into a mermaid, coming out only for meals and to text her friends back home.

But in an effort to get acquainted with our southern surroundings, we did venture out to explore one of the local sites. In the city of Crossville stands what some of the locals refer to as God’s tree house.

“I was praying one day and the Lord said, ‘If you build me a tree house, I’ll see you never run out of material,’” said builder, and modern day Noah, Horace Burgess. So build it he did, out of recycled pieces of lumber and various donations.

This amazing, though somewhat ramshackle tree house, stands nearly 100-feet high. My understanding is that it wasn’t always so ramshackle, but over the years various nomads have taken up temporary residence in one of many rooms spanning ten floors.

According to my research, the tree house that Horace built took approximately 14-years to complete (1993-2007), however Horace would refute my Noah reference.

“God didn’t do me like Noah. I never got the dimensions. If I had known it was going to end up this big, I never would have started it.”

It took us more than an hour to explore the various nooks, crannies and cathedrals of Burgess’ bark and bough sanctuary. The spiral staircase that wraps around the trunk of a huge White Oak delivers climbers to various floors. There are short cuts everywhere that lead you to different rooms, balconies and levels. On one floor stand a church, complete with pews, a pulpit, a choir loft and a stained glass picture window of Jesus. Many areas had been trashed by the aforementioned nomads, and several sections, in particular a large hole in the floor somewhere in the vicinity of the fourth or fifth floor, looked downright dangerous. When we first arrived the boy took off climbing and I had a moment of panic, thinking how easy it would be to lose a kid in this place, or about who might be up there sleeping something off, or worse. If you happen to visit, watch your step and keep an eye on the youngins. That being said, it does appear to be a very well travelled attraction, and numerous other families came and went during our exploration. If someone would just take the time to clean it up, perhaps allow one of the more responsible nomads to live in it in exchange for acting as a caretaker, it could be much nicer.

On this particular visit, one of many for my mother in-law Jude as her out-of-town guests always request a visit, Horace’s son, Kevin, happened by on his way to dad’s ranch just up the road. I was somewhere up in the bell tower clanging the oxygen acetylene bottles that have been chopped and fashioned into wind chimes, but Jude spoke to him and confirmed the following information:

• Horace refers to the edifice as “The Way,” the way being Jesus.
• It took Horace 14-years to complete the tree house, and with the exception of maybe “500 nails” driven by Kevin, Horace built the entire structure, all 258,000 nails worth
• Horace put a cross in the garden so people will say he has Jesus in his garden.

Now I’ll admit that a part of me thought the whole things a little nutty; a little too Field of Dreams-y. Still, while I walked around this timbered monolith, I couldn’t help but marvel at the thing, and the sheer devotion and sweat equity it must have taken to complete it.  And I couldn’t help but feel a little moved by the whole thing, moved to bow my head and pray, “I sure hope God doesn’t tell me to paint my house.”

What:              God’s Treehouse
Where:            Crossville, TN, for exact location, ask a local
Cost:               Your soul. Just kidding, it’s free

(All photos by Lisa Romano)

What would you do from this balcony, hmmm? Relax? Drink?

I did the same, but with a slight twist.

See, we all have hobbies, one of mine is music. And talking about music. And local music.

Because I like music? No. I hate it. Can’t stand the thought of it.

But, I’ve been blessed with my Irish grandfather’s gift-of-gab and carry a little microphone around with me.

I carry it with me on my travels to talk to locals about the music scene [not that I particularly like music] and then make it into little shows so that others hear it and invite me to their wonderful dinner parties.

Hawaii was no exception. Through the magic of Twitter, I was introduced to Miss Hawaii and we sat here, on this balcony and had a chat about Hawaiian music – both traditional and current.

There were a few I knew, many I did not.

Hopefully you’ll listen. Then learn something. Then invite me to your next gathering, okay?

In all seriousness, there is – no matter where you head – a funky little scene happening in terms of music. Some of it might be good, some might be tragic, but if you’re lucky enough to travel, you might just learn a few things.

Listen to the show.

It makes you somewhat cooler.

After the 5-hour, nerve-racking motorcycle ride out of the Kathmandu congestion and into the outlying mountain ranges, I planned on doing a whole lot of nothing in Pokhara.

And that’s exactly what I did.

I soaked up some sunshine during the day, read a bit at night and then hurried back to my room around 9pm as I had both Cinemax and HBO on the tiny television. Sort of. I was fuzzy, but I rushed back anyway.

Then I realized I haven’t had a conversation with someone in…a long time. Relaxation turned into boredom and after a few days of this, I decided to take an alternate route up the mountain you can best see the Himalaya Range from (you might be tired of hearing about it. I’m tired of writing about it. Until I see it again and then I suddenly am not tired of writing about it).

So, I did – passing tiny homes on the way up filled with colorful patterns worn by the owners who look funny at the tourists who call them ‘lucky’ and came to the end of the road. The end of the paved road, that is. Beyond that was a dirt road with a lot of rocks. Rocks that could easily puncture my tiny tires. Tires that I didn’t know how to fix. Etc.

Sat for a few minutes, thinking-and-rethinking the consequences of a flat.

‘Maybe the villagers would help me.’

‘Maybe the villagers would help me for money.’

I didn’t have any money.

But the thought of what lied at the end of that road ended up being too much. Stayed in first the whole way, much to the amusement of the locals who couldn’t wait to take the money that I didn’t have. Dodging rocks on a road made of rocks is hard. I think it was only 100 meters up but am pretty sure it took 20-minutes. Came to the end of it. A kid ran out of his house and yelled ‘parking, sir’ even though there was no parking area, just his home on the narrow street.

‘I want to go to the top.’

‘Very easy, sir. Park here and walk up. 200 meters. 10 minutes.’

Took me about 30, the cheeky little monkey. Made it, though. Made it to the top where there was a tea and gift shop. To the left were some stairs. Stairs that took me up to an old military post. There was a guard throwing boxes in a barrel to keep warm and nothing else.

Except a few benches.

Which means you gotta dig – and here’s a trick I learned during my 5 years in China:

Find a construction site around mid-day and wait for the whistle to blow*.

Then follow the workers.

See – we’re talking about big boys who don’t get paid big money but need to eat. And they always seem to know where this predicament can be taken care of.

So, while in the less-than-thrifty Honolulu, I did just that. I followed a few yardworkers to a serious place.

Helena’s.

Now – I’ll go ahead and tell you I was quite pleased with myself but would soon find out that this is a rather well-known local dive that tourists occasionally get taken to. But even with a few haole sitting in – it was exactly what you’d want in a hidden haunt.

Now – you’ve learned the main lesson of who to follow.

And when it comes to dining, here’s another.

Order one of each from the appetizer menu.

Sure, it might cost you a few dollars more, but there’s no better way to sample what the kitchen can do.

I ordered this – and still don’t know exactly what it was:

I mean, I know the fish is called ‘poke’, but the eyeball thingy I’m not sure about. It’s a mussel of sorts and is really salty.

But that’s just it – I experienced something that wasn’t that great and am still not sure what it is but am better for it.

Which is exactly what travel should be all about.

*Entirely based on The Flinstones, I’ve never had a callus on these hands, so am not sure what it sounds like.

But, as we’ve talked about before – vacations are all about making us cool, yes? If you don’t come back with stories of drinking with the locals, boring tidbits on food preparation and a few sets of unfortunate coasters, then you haven’t really done your job, have you?

Oh yes – and pictures. In this day in age of social networking, if you’re not ‘tagging’ your own feet with the beach in the background, then your vacation credentials should be taken away all together.

Which brings me to my original point of waking up early…once.

For a sunrise, of course:

Now – a few things you need to do to prepare for said ‘rise’.

It’s cold. No matter where you are. See, the sun keeps things warm. So if it’s not visible, then you won’t be warm. So bring warm clothes. You roll your eyes and wonder if I’m just trying to meet word count (totally possible), but I’ve climbed* 2 volcanoes in the past year and have witnessed too many strangers cuddling (which, if you’re into, I can recommend a few bars in Berlin) out of poor preparation.

So bring a blanket or something.

And then charge the camera.

Get a coffee.

And have one day when you see both a rise and set.

‘Cause that’s the kind of thing friends back home love to hear about.