Running down to the riptide

The dashboard of my car is littered with California State Beach parking passes. My knees are perpetually bruised. There is sand in every crevice of my life: the seats of my car, the foot of my bed, the corners of the shower and trapped in my ears. And this weekend late-sleeper is waking up early in anticipation just about every Sunday.

Oh yeah, and strangers say things to me like "How was the swell?" and "That's a sweet skeg!" like I know what they're talking about.





























My first time on a surfboard was a little over six years ago. My friends and I took a lesson at Ron Jon Surf Shop in Cocoa Beach, Fla. With the help of an instructor I got up right away, and BOOM. Like a bolt of lightening, I was ob-sessed. Never before and never since has something felt so absolute to me – I was meant to surf. It wasn’t that I was especially good, it just felt right. For all the reasons we moved to California, this might be my #1. We can pretend it’s about career opportunities and returning to my roots and all that, but really, it’s the surfing.

With my memory of that lesson, a few YouTube videos and a lucky surfboard borrowed from my landlord, I started hitting the waves in June. (Do real surfers say “hitting the waves?”) I felt instantly welcomed by my fellow surfers. They offered helpful tips and encouragement without me saying a word. Several have even timed the waves for me and told me when to wait, when to paddle, when to pop. Timing is everything, and those are the few times I’ve actually gotten up, even if only briefly. I could hug those guys for that. One surfer who obviously got a kick out of my climb-on-the-board, fall-off-the-board, climb-on-the-board routine said, “If you’re having that much fun doing THAT, you must be hooked!” Indeed. I could flounder about for hours and still have the time of my life.

I've even convinced Pat to try it.

The biggest surprise to me is how peaceful it is in the ocean. The shore is a turbulent place, but it's unusually calm just beyond the break of waves. Despite the many scary things that can catch you off guard out there – sharks, rip currents, jellyfish – the ocean triggers no anxiety in me. It’s a baffling effect.

The title for this post comes from what I call my surfing song. I hum it to myself as I wait in the quiet water for a good wave, and I play it every time on my way home, just as the day is beginning to warm up. My muscles like liquid, my hair softened by salt. I will always remember this as the summer that I ran down to the riptide.

Title lyrics – Riptide, Vance Joy

May, she will stay

Tonight I went for a run, my first physical activity since kicking the no-good-very-bad mono virus.

I've spent a lot of time resting the last couple of months, and I've plowed through plenty of books to pass the time. I always turn to my favorite author for comfort when I'm sick. I own every novel by Dean Koontz, double copies of some. Last month I randomly selected "The Husband" off my shelf and was delighted to find that it takes place in Orange County, as many of his books do. This one in particular is set in the city of Orange in May, a moment in time that just so matched mine. 

And as he often does, Koontz countered the fast-paced plot with moments of reflection about the character's surroundings. He so beautifully captured the springtime beauty occurring right in my neighborhood that I felt like he was writing about this very spot. Maybe he was.

I made sure to jot down excerpts from the book and then captured some photos on my run. Southern California has some unique flora, I'll give it that.

He was parked under an old jacaranda in full flower ...

... and when he moved into the light from the street lamp, he saw that he walked on a carpet of purple petals.

Along the night streets, queen palms thrashed, like madwomen in frenzies tossing their hair ...

.. and bottle-brush trees shed millions of scarlet needles that were the petals of their exotic flowers.

I've run out of quotes, but here are some other neighborhood wonders that gave me pause.

Wherein I ask, are you kidding me right now?

I am terrified of this thing and whatever disease it carries.

Treacherous technology

When we first moved here, we theorized that these fake-looking trees were cell phone towers in disguise. Wretched phone companies, we said. How dare they infiltrate nature just so I can have a WiFi signal to write this blog. Turns out, they're Norfolk Island Pines.

Conservation at its best

Folks, that is real, live ... turf. Great for lawns in a desert climate.
You can't fault people for being practical, I suppose.

Title lyrics – April Come She Will, Simon and Garfunkel

Until the sun goes down

Many of you know about my connection to Alzheimer’s disease. My lovable grandpa, Papa, battled Alzheimer's the last five years of his life. He was affectionate and sweet, a story-teller and a family man. He had a head full of white hair and a heart full of kindness. He was tall and handsome, and you could disappear in his hugs.

Papa was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and moved in with my family because he could no longer care for himself. I'm thankful that he didn't become aggressive like many with Alzheimer's do. But it was hard to talk to him, to carry on a conversation and he never could remember meeting Pat. Many people with Alzheimer's deteriorate even further, to a point beyond recognition. It's a terrible disease.

Many people still call it “old timers” disease, and it gets brushed off as simple forgetfulness that comes with old age. It’s much worse than that. The scariest thing about Alzheimer’s is that there is no cure. It is the only cause of death among the top 10 in America that cannot be prevented, cured or even slowed. And it is fatal. What also scares me is that it is often genetic. That means that other people I love, or even myself, can develop Alzheimer’s. I’ve already lost one special person to this disease, and I’m determined not to lose another.

I have been a supporter of the Alzheimer’s Association for over five years now, and my family and friends have continually supported me in all my fundraising shenanigans – a trivia night, a bingo night, a couple of baseball games, my annual walk team and now, The Longest Day.

On June 21, the longest day of the year, people all over the country will come together to do an activity from sunrise to sunset, to honor the endurance of people and their families who are fighting the disease every hour, every day. Some teams are running, some are knitting, some are playing cards. Each team member signs up for a time slot, so it's like a relay, passing the torch from one person to the next, across multiple locations.

My team is Dee Dee’s Water Warriors. We’ll spend June 21 playing in the water! I will report on every hour, showcasing each of my teammates and their activity to end Alzheimer's. If you join my team, you can do anything water-related, like:

• Kayak
• Boat
• Play in the pool
• Take a dip in the Jacuzzi
• Waterski or go tubing
• Organize a float trip or canoe trip
• Surf
• Run through the sprinkler
• Visit a waterpark
• Swim laps at the gym

Please, join me! Commit to a short time block and then ask your friends and family to make a donation to support your activity. All of the donations will go toward Alzheimer’s research, advocacy and support for families dealing with the disease. Message me if you would like more details.

If you’re not able to join the fun or you just don’t particularly like water activities, I sure would appreciate a general donation to my team. Every dollar counts. You can make a donation here.

This is my birthday wish this year: no gifts, just support for my favorite cause.

Thank you, thank you, to everyone, whether you join my team, contribute a couple dollars or cheer on Dee Dee’s Water Warriors from the (dry) sidelines. I appreciate it more than you know.

My dad and his dad, Oceanside, California

Papa ♥

Title lyrics – Mountain Sound, Of Monsters and Men

Out of my league

I've never had a major league ballpark in my backyard before. We could practically walk to Angel Stadium if we wanted to! A big perk of our current location, for sure.

I don't know if I would have been able to see Derek Jeter play one last time otherwise. He's retiring from baseball after this season. He has been my favorite player since I picked his name out of a lineup when I was 13 – for all the right reasons, of course: he had a cool name, I liked the number 2, he grew up Michigan, he played shortstop. I suppose he turned out to be pretty talented, too.

I made sure to get tickets to his last scheduled game in southern California. So did 40,000 other people. What they say is true: There are Yankee fans wherever you go, and it was a sold-out crowd. We lucked out with some great seats and enjoyed a nice farewell ceremony from the Angels, complete with a custom pinstriped paddle board as a gift to Jeter. Only in California.

The game could not have gone more in our favor. The Yankees swept the Angels 9-2, with a home run by Jeter in the 2nd inning. I was ready to catch the ball with my official Derek Jeter Rookie of the Year glove, circa 1996, but it wasn't meant to be.

I have always been a Yankee fan, and yet I've never been to Yankee Stadium. I have only seen them play when most of the audience is rooting for the home team. Not this night. More than once, the crowd chanted "Der-ek Je-ter!" When he came to bat, they stood. And when he scored, you would have thought we were in the house that Ruth built. It was the game of a lifetime.

Title lyrics – Out of My League, Fitz and the Tantrums

Shake, shake, shake, señora

I'm way behind in documenting what was a momentous occasion for us, but I figure better late than never.

About a month ago, we experienced our first earthquake. Of course it was immediately followed by texts, emails and Facebook messages all along the lines of "You're a real Californian now!," "Do you regret moving there?" and my favorite, "Which disaster do you prefer, a tornado or an earthquake?" Umm, neither. (Tornado.)

The quake erupted out of La Habra, just 4 miles north of Fullerton. Fullerton is our new favorite hang-out area, and we just so happened to be enjoying a drink with our visitor Kelly in beautiful downtown Fullerton when it happened. Quite a coincidence. It lasted all of about 6 seconds (longer elsewhere). Here's how it played out.

00:00:01 A slight rumble underfoot. The band playing next door sure is pumping the bass. I’m TRYING to have a CONVERSATION.

00:00:02 I mean, really. The bass is so heavy, it’s shaking that wall. These kids and their rock music.

00:00:03 The ground is really rocking now. Whoa. Are we on a boat? (I'm not the quickest thinker.)

00:00:04 Let me try to stand up.

00:00:05 Let me try to stand up again.

00:00:06 Guys, guys, I figured it out. Earthquake!

Oh you already knew that? You mean quick-thinking Pat had already scoped out the safest place on the patio and was instructing us to get under a table? He’s a good guy to have around, that one.

It was much scarier than I expected. I knew earthquakes could be violent, but you really have no frame of reference until you're in one. I immediately understood how it could easily bring down buildings and bridges. I always figured if one hit, I would run to my safe spot. But I didn't factor in that it would be rocking so much that I would barely be able to walk, let alone run! Lesson learned.

Anyway, that has been our recent excitement. Kelly stayed with us for a week and we ventured out for a few fun activities. We're making friends and finding our social life again. The weather is heating up and I am itching for SUMMER. You'd think you would be in a summer mindset year-round here, but just like anywhere else, the air is filled with an anticipation for scorchingly hot days, cricket-filled nights, and that perfect summer twilight in between.

Pat and Kelly got to see a taping of the Conan O'Brien Show.

Jazz club in Fullerton.

Kayaking at Sunset Beach.

Our first beach bonfire.

Sunset dinner at Laguna Beach.

Title lyrics – Jump in the Line, Harry Belafonte

I do love my ma and pa

We are so lucky to have family visit us. Pat’s brother Kelly stayed with us back in November. This month, my parents came for almost a week. It was wonderful. I admit, I like living in a tropical spot so we can offer guests a nice vacation in addition to our company.

My mom moved to California when she was a kid, and my dad escaped snowy Michigan to move here in his 20s. They met while both working at the Orange County Register some 34 years ago. We spent a lot of time driving around their old stomping grounds and marveling at how things have changed since then (except the In’n’Out Burger menu – that’s deliciously the same). My mom’s brother and sister still live here. We had a nice family reunion, with the three of them together for the first time in probably 15 years.

Mom, Uncle Ed and Aunt Terry

With record high temps, we hit the beach several times – walking the pier at Huntington, witnessing sea creatures brought in by the low tide at Crystal Cove and even laying out in our bathing suits one afternoon, getting good and sandy.

We had dinner at Downtown Disney, saw a fun doo-wop concert in Cerritos, brunched at the Orange circle, shopped the swap meet and visited the Ronald Reagan National Library in majestic Simi Valley. Pretty neat place – I highly recommend it.

Posing with a 9 1/2 foot tall section of the Berlin Wall

They're cray-cray adorbs. Totes McGoats.

We spent our last night at Ruby’s Diner in Huntington, sharing milkshakes and catching a glimpse of some record high waves.

The only bad part about having my family here is the deep void I feel when they leave. I’m counting the days till I see them again – maybe a brief visit in May, but definitely a trip home to Michigan in July. Only 159 days to go.

Title lyrics – Home, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes