Santa Barbara

Last Friday, I flew down to my parents' house to rejoin Rebecca and the boys. Saturday drifted by without event, then Sunday, Bec and I drove up to Santa Barbara to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. Although our actual date is May 30th, it was easier for multiple reasons to reschedule the trip for this weekend.

We stayed at the Upham Inn on the corner of De La Vina and Sola, just off the upper end of lower State Street. We had eaten at the hotel's restaurant many years ago and were pleased with the food and the atmosphere. The Inn was originally built in the mid-19th century by some guy with the last name of Lincoln and extrememly bushy eyebrows. Photographs of the Lincolns reveal a homely clan who probably never knew a day of rest in their lives, if reading facial features is any kind of indication of character or personal experience.

The Victorian-style hotel featured cozy, private rooms clean and functional. A small fridge would have been helpful, but if that was our only complaint, then things weren't so bad. The walk to downtown wasn't bad for me, with my more comfortable shoes compared to Bec's heels. In my shoes, the walk down to James Joyce was about 15 minutes, and about 10 minutes to Paseo Nuevo mall. Or it was possible to take the electric bus for 25 cents and a lot of patience (it took just as long for that bus to crawl down State as it did for me to walk, I noted, as I paced the bus at each red light).

Sunday, we ate at Sandbar for lunch. The Mexican food was good, not great, but certainly welcome to a couple of hungry out-of-towners like us. That night, after showering and enjoying a couple hours in the room, we ventured downtown to watch the Laker game; not Bec's first choice, but with the potential championship waiting for the winning (the Lakers did win), there was no other option. We ventured around a few places, looking for a place to both watch the game and eat. This proved to be ridiculously difficult. Santa Barbara Brewing Company, with its stuck-up hostesses, was in no fit shape to serve merely two hungry patrons. We were, of course, welcome to go out back to their Lounge, which was assured to have ample space (there was none). So, we went to James Joyce because it was empty and it had a bar (but no food), the game having already started.

At half time, desperately in need of food, we went across the street and up a bit to a steakhouse (the name of which escapes me at the moment). I ate an excellent Filet Mignon at the bar where we met a colorful personality going by the name of Darius (or something like that, I'm a terrible journalist...and I was surpassing drunk). At any rate, he talked our ears off, causing me to miss most of the third period, and my fries to cool off. As noted, the Lakers won and we headed out to Madison's, a bar clearly enticing to the student aged (and the recently graduated) as evidenced by the big, drunk boy picking a fight with the smaller kid who refused to engage for no other reason than the big asshole was too drunk to perceive reality accurately. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of beer, wine, and spirits, but I think I've managed to learn how to control anger with age. This jerk had four of his friends trying to talk some sense into him.

The scene didn't get much better there, so after our beers (one each) we took off for the room. We had an opened bottle of red wine waiting for us and a Vons a block from the Inn where we stopped to get more and a bag of chips. That night, we slept poorly on the stiff mattress and flat pillows.

Next morning, Monday, we woke up, headed out to Starbucks, and down State and then down to East Beach. We had a great two or three mile walk and bused it back to the room for a quick change. Our anniversary gifts to one-another, in addition to the trip to Santa Barbara, were individual shopping trips at Paseo Nuevo. We split for a few hours while we amused ourselves in the various shops in the mall. I didn't have the shopping fortitude to match Bec's, so I left for lunch at State & A where I ate a passable chicken fetuccini alfredo with a couple of Firestones. I went back to the room and Bec joined me an hour later.

We showered and relaxed for a while in the room then headed out for dinner at our favorite restaurant, Palazzio. We have a lot of history there and try to make our visits there for special occasions. Bec ate the clam linguini and I ate the rigatoni tender chicken. After dinner, we headed to a nearby bar for a quick beer then to Borders so I could buy a copy of a Raymond Chandler book, The Lady in the Lake. I've been into Chandler's stuff, lately, and wasn't ready to put him down after having just finished The High Window. Upon leaving Borders, we strolled up State, landing at a great new discovery called Chase. Chase was a classier sort of bar and restaurant with a great staff and excellent martinis. We decided we would definitely return there on another visit.

After Chase, we went back to the room for another night fighting the stiff mattress and deflated pillows. Tuesday morning presented us with mostly blue skies and warm temperatures. It was our last day and time to relive some of our early days together at UCSB and Isla Vista. UCSB has been in a state of constant construction since shortly before we graduated and has expanded impressively ever since. To recount the changes to the campus would require more time typing than I'm willing to invest and carry far less interest than the reader would care to endure. Isla Vista continued to morph in its small ways, with the revolving door of shops and bars, but the Del Playa and the "residential" areas remained relatively intact.

So, we headed back to Moorpark, trying unsuccessful to find a movie theater playing something interesting. It was good to see the boys again (until Jake's temper tantrums). Tomorrow will signal our return to Petaluma--home--where things change at our pace, not the rest of the world's.