Californiacation

While standing in line for the Pacific Spin at Soak City, the little boy who got his swim trunks pocket torn off by his dad was goofing off with (presumably) his brother while waiting the 45 minutes to get to the start of the ride. During that time, we overheard this fellow (who had maybe 6 or 7 years under his belt) proclaim, "You know, most people don't survive this ride."

We all laughed out loud at this and the young fellow was none the wiser. But, did he really think he might die on the ride? And, if so, what did he suppose they did with all of the dead bodies? And how did they procure so many repeat riders wanting more? I suppose it's possible that he meant something different by this, but what?

Then, while in line for a different ride, about ten kids from a summer camp were separating me from J and K, who'd seen them coming and ran ahead. No worries, though, as the line for this ride went pretty quickly and it was enjoyed on an individual basis. While waiting, a cute African-American girl strikes up a conversation with me.

"Do you have any sons or daughters?"

"Yes, I have one daughter who is ahead of us in line, the blond girl with the orange swimsuit," I tell her. I then add that I wasn't fast enough to get in line with my family before the kids from the summer camp came over and that is why we aren't standing in line together.

She checks K out, then asks me, " Have you ever been on that ride?" she says, pointing to the Pacific Spin.

I tell her that I was in line for that ride, but didn't get to go on it because they didn't like how my swim trunks were. I wasn't sure if she followed or not, but then she says, "I was wondering why you were wearing your boxer shorts."

I explain to her that I find the shorts more comfortable than a swimsuit like hers. I refrain from adding anything about "when you get to be my age" or from using the phrase "fucking fat-phobic Southern Californians thinking that anyone over size 8 is obese" and she seems cool, yet perplexed by my response.

Her friend asks me if the ride we're waiting for is scary and I tell her that it isn't. I then feel compelled to qualify my statement since I don't find very many rides "scary" and these girls are about 8 years old. I explain to them that it's dark for a little bit and then light and that it goes pretty fast and that water dumps on your head. The friend admits that she's somewhat afraid of the dark and I assure her that it won't be dark for very long. The African-American girl then poses a serious question to me.

"Do you bond with your daughter?"

Holy crap. Did I hear this kid correctly? What an odd question. Perhaps she said something else or means something different by it.

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

"You know, how moms and dads bond with their daughters?" Yowsa, did she learn about this at summer camp?

"Do you mean, like, hanging out with her and doing special things together with her?" I ask for clarification.

"Yeah, like that."

"Oh, sure, we bond."

Where on earth do kids get this stuff?

Other observations from California

1. WAY too much use of styrofoam. Unbelievable.
2. Drove past a shop in Oxnard, CA, called "Retarded Persons Thrift Store"
3. "Gum Alley" in San Luis Obispo is a little bit cool and punk rock and a little bit just plain gross