We're in Los Angeles, where Amanda is running in the L.A. Marathon on Sunday. When you don't travel much, everything is new, so I hope jaded frequent flyers will forgive my enthusiasm for the tapas snackbox served by United Airlines. For a mere $8.59, you receive all of the following: a bag of marinated olives ("Oloves"), a bruschetta spread, hummus (served in a toothpaste-like tube), a cheese spread, pita chips, two different kinds of crackers, a small bag of almonds, and chocolate acai with blueberry (morsels of chocolate with a "juice piece" at the core).
My one mild complaint is that I ran out of crackers before the various spreads were gone and was as a consequence reduced to squirting hummus into my mouth directly from the tube. Be liberal with your applications, and take the time to match the spread to the most suitable salty treat.
LAX is a dump. It appears not to have been updated since Tom Hagen flew out there and ended up arranging a date between an entertainment exec and the head of his dead horse. The departures and arrivals are listed on a screen that has a behind like that of a Weight Watchers dropout. And grime, everywhere.
On the credit side, I've been pleasantly surprised at how well the public transportation system seems to work. The only inefficiencies we suffered have to be attributed to our own rookie errors. We've also rented a car, and those trips are more of an adventure. Yesterday, we drove out to Yorba Linda from our motel in Culver City and it took so long that we were left with only an hour to tour the Nixon library and birthplace before it closed at five. Amanda pointed out that for Democrats an hour is really more than enough. Trying to make nice, she praised the layout of Nixon's boyhood home to the tour guide who was showing us around.
The drive out made us afraid of trying to drive back during the evening rush hour, so we ate dinner in nearby Brea and saw a movie--"Silver Linings Playbook"--at the Brea mutiplex. So mediocre you might be inclined to call it bad. Eleven-fifty per ticket.
I see that Rob Portman, Republican from Ohio, has come out for gay marriage now that it turns out his son is gay. I guess it's okay to wipe the floor with other peoples' kids but not with his. At least we'll always have the pope to kick around.
