Clydesdales, whales and bibles oh my!

Another update taking advantage of internet access, when I, er, have access to it. That's the editor's note on randomness.

A friend’s company recently sponsored an employee appreciation event at Sea World and since I’m new to San Diego he thought I might want to go. Sea World is now owned by Anheuser-Busch so before I saw a single aquarium or marine animal of any kind, I saw a Clydesdale. Isn’t it ironic, don’tcha think? They are beautiful creatures. BIG beautiful creatures.

Like many attraction parks each exhibit exit comes complete with a gift shop. I felt horrible for all the parents negotiating with kids about why a walrus stuffed animal is just another stuffed another, just like the Beluga whale stuffed animal they just bought ten minutes ago (yes they have Beluga whales there, funky looking creatures).

I was grumpy that for people that paid $60 to get into the park they charged $3 for the sky ride. I boycotted on principal.

We said hi to Shamu and left an hour and a half after arriving (that’s including our free lunch).

Yesterday saw my first real road trip to the City of Angels. As a bribe for a ride to LAX a friend said, “We can go to that library and see the Gutenberg Bible.” That’s all I needed. I cleaned out The Red Baron and we were off.

The Huntington was fantastic. It’s home to manuscripts dating back to the 1400’s and with written correspondence on display from Tennyson, Thoreau, a few Brontes and so much more. I wish they had printed out what many of the documents said because we the fading of the paper and the fancy handwriting and the over anxious people behind you, it was hard to get a long good look and really read anything.

There were some documents about the “absorption of the Mid-West.” Absorption? Was there a spill that the European settlers, soon to be called Americans, were nice enough to clean up with an extra-large Brawny paper towel? I left it alone (i.e., only talked about it for maybe ten minutes) but that phrase stayed with me a long time. I wonder how the discussion during the exhibit planning had played out.

While in the gift shop, and don't we just all LOVE museum gift shops, I saw a card with a man on a horse that looked a little bit like JFK. A jack, yes, but Jack London. I'm not a big fan (I hated Call of the Wild but what ninth grade high school freshman didn't?) but maybe that's changing. Printed on the card is his "credo" and it echoes one of my favorite Tennyson poems. Perhaps Mr. London had read it as well.

I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.

The galleries of Mr. Huntington were too stuffy for my taste but the gardens were gorgeous. They made for a perfect respite (yes, I napped there) before heading west towards the airport. I slowed down and my friend jumped out, with bags in hand.

With the setting sun behind me I drove home, without radio reception or a functioning cd player, I just sank into myself and headed south. Somewhere before Mexico was my turnoff.