Tomorrow morning, I will board a plane with my children, my sister and my neice. We will be hanging out in the old hood for a week. Oh yeah, and we're gonna scatter my dad's ashes off the Santa Cruz coast, where we did my grandfather's back in '84. My big bro Randy will be in attendance on the sail, and we're going to hang out in Santa Cruz for drinks that night, sort of an early birthday thingy for him.
Hoping to see a bunch of folks. Will likely be doing exactly that at the family BBQ for the Palo Alto High School class of '86. For you young folks reading this, I'm talking about 1886, when President Grover Cleveland wed himself a young girl in the White House and Karl Benz patented his newfangled gasoline-powered automobile. Coca-Cola was a nickel and Spain abolished slavery in Cuba.
Just kidding. I'm not quite that old.
No, we're talking 1986, when gasoline prices broke $1 per gallon and caused a major public outcry. We had funny colored hair and made sure our ties matched our socks, worshipped teen-avatar John Hughes and an art house Aussie named Mel Gibson. The space shuttle Challenger blew up, Germany was still two separate countries, and Ronald Reagan made jokes about starting World War 3. Huzzah!
It was also the year I released my first film, took a roadtrip to Canada with my future wife, and realized that the easy part was over - I was a legal adult and needed to act the part. So much for that. All that history was part of another life, and although I can look back fondly and remember the fun and challenging times I had when I was "that guy", I'm not "that guy" anymore. So it'll be interesting to see friends from that time, see how they've changed (or not). I have zero expectations and quite a few non-school chums to link up with.
While we're gone, the contractors should be hanging drywall. The garden window is in and the floors & doors have been chosen. There's electrical wire, coaxial cable and CAT5 network cable running everywhere. I hope to come back to solid walls.
I'll keep blogging from CA, if I can. Peace out, my homies.