“It’s oh so nice to go traveling…”

One of the best things about taking a nice, long road trip every summer to Grants Pass, Oregon (by way of Santa Cruz, CA) is that being away from Los Angeles for any extended period of time always reminds me of just why I love L.A. so much in the first place. Yes, I admit it, I love L.A., probably more than anyplace I've ever lived.

In fact, having been down here for over twenty-two years now, Mrs. Yeti and I have officially lived in L.A./Burbank longer than we've ever lived anywhere else. And though we love to get away, something about this crazy, sprawling urban jungle just makes us feel excited and alive. Maybe it's because we were both born down here, who knows? But for us, L.A. is home, and as we drove over the Grapevine on Sunday night and caught our first glimpse of the shimmering lights of the San Fernando Valley in the distance, I'm not embarrassed to admit that we both got more than a little choked up.

I'm not sure if that was because we were relieved that some of the more dramatic episodes from our trip were behind us, or the simple fact that we were just happy to be home. But for whatever reason, we practically kissed the ground when we arrived!

And today, as Greta and I grabbed lunch at a totally 80's Taco Bell on Ventura Boulevard — which is one of my two favorite thoroughfares in L.A., BTW, Wilshire Boulevard being the other — I spotted a dude with the long grey hair and tight, studded jeans of a faded rock star enjoying a Meximelt while a crazy-eyed trannie demanded the key to the restroom at the register, and I just smiled from ear to ear. Oh, L.A., how I've missed you. It really is good to be home!

 

 

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Google Zeitgeist: “Here’s to 2013!”

As we did with Christmas, Mrs. Yeti, Greta and I spent pretty much the entire weekend holed up in the living room watching movies, eating and drinking, playing video games and assembling very intricately designed LEGO playsets. And while sitting there complaining that none of the end of year wrap-up shows on TV were any good, we caught this new Google ad that captured 2013 better than any cheesy TV show ever could.

Kudos to Google for doing it again! This new ad was so beautiful it had us in tears all night. Here’s to a fun, prosperous and magical year ahead for all of us. Happy New Year!

Family Road Trip Rule #1: When in doubt…bribe!

Hit the road last week for our annual road trip to Oregon to visit my wife’s family. It’s a long-ass drive, but we love road trips (yes, even with a two-year-old in tow) and the time spent just hanging out with the niece, nephews and assorted brothers and sisters-in-law on the family farm is kind of, well, rejuvenating. I don’t know if it’s the country air or what, but, man alive, do we go home relaxed!

Anyway, I firmly believe that a huge part of the adventure is the actual act of driving there — seriously, we have found that even short-jaunt road trips are great for the soul — and since no one wants to have their soul-cleansing road trip ruined by a screaming toddler, I give you, Family Road Trip Rule # 1: When in doubt…bribe!

I don’t care what your kid’s favorite thing is (be it a food item, a beverage, toy or DVD) but secretly pack a lot of them in your car before you leave. Emphasis on the secret part, if they know how many you’ve packed, your screwed. Bribery only works when your child thinks that the desired item they will do anything for is in very limited supply. So hide your loot well!

Right now, Greta will do almost anything you ask her to for a Trader Joe’s Organic Fruit Leather. I don’t know exactly why she loves them so, but she’d seriously take a bullet for the strawberry variety…it’s crazy.

So, we packed 25 of them in a secret stash in the car, and the minute she acts up or won’t finish her meal or, well, any time she’s just being a typical two-year-old on an eight-and-a-half hour car ride, we bribe her. “Greta…if you do blank, we’ll give you a fruit leather.” we purr in her screaming, red-faced direction, and she calms down almost instantly.

If I wasn’t so happy it worked, I might be a little freaked out by it, but at the end of the day…it works. Like a fucking charm. Every. Single. Time. So, who cares why?

With order restored in our car, we crank up the tunes and resume our lovely road trip in peace…or, you know, until the next big blow up.