I sat down to write and -- this happens from time to time -- I spaced out. When I zoned back in and looked at my screen, it was filled over and over with "All work and no play makes Jeff a dull boy."
A-ha, I thought, maybe a vacation wouldn't be a bad idea.
Going to a hotel with a topiary maze didn't seem like a very good idea, so we headed for Santa Cruz for a little relaxation. Much to my surprise, I had a good time. I wasn't expecting Santa Cruz to be a drag or anything; just the opposite. I am practically physically incapable of having a good time.
Ask anyone who knows me and is forced to be around me.
My son flew solo on a ride for the very first time, which was kind of nice. I wasn't sure he'd go for it, but after the first few times around the car carousel, he started getting into it and playing with the steering wheel. He liked it so much he wanted to go on the boat ride right next to it.
And despite the crowds, there wasn't a huge wait for rides. Heck, I practically walked right on to the Giant Dipper. Score!
I wasn't mobbed on the beach by adoring women even though it's a well-known fact that chicks dig guys who wear shirts on the beach, even when they go in the water. It's just as well; it's embarrassing to have to disappoint them and tell them I'm already taken.
Aside from the aftermath of defective sunblock, it was a good time all around. I think we need to do that more often.
