And Everything Nice...

No contest. None at all. 

Best banana in town? Sugar 'N Spice.

Tonight I tried the frozen banana at Dad's (topping: cinnamon crunch, minus any crunch at all). The topping was lackluster, and with every bite a dusting of spice drifted into my cleavage.  While this could have, in other circumstances, led to all sorts of fun, it did not.

P.S. In the next couple of days, I'll be posting some essays from last spring's writing class.  I hope you'll find them thought provoking.

UPDATE 7/21: I tried the Balboa Bars, and as much as I wanted to switch my allegiance from fruit to ice cream I simply could not. If I'm going to have ice cream, I want it be the full fat, artery clogging stuff, not the ghostly white plain thin vanilla of the stuff on a stick.  So I'm declaring myself a "large banana, double chocolate dip, no topping, please" girl. Like an Audrey Hepburn/Jackie-O dress, it's never a bad choice.

Battle of the Bananas

Anyone who has visited Balboa island has fond memories of many things, but right up there at the top of the list have to be Frozen Bananas and Balboa Bars. I sampled my first frozen banana in the eighties, after hearing The Man wax rhapsodic about them when he recounted his childhood summers.

Small child had her first one last night, and pronounced it fine indeed.

The controversy continues, however, over which venue can truly claim to offer the "original" Balboa bar,  a just-off-square chunk of ice cream dipped in chocolate and rolled in your choice of toppings (as in "give me a Bal Bar with everything"). 

Last night, we purchased our creamy, frozen magic from Sugar 'N Spice, which has far and away the best sign, not to mention the ever jaunty 'N.  Sugar 'N Spice has been on Marine Ave. since 1945, and claims to offer "the original frozen banana" as well as Bal Bars. When I found this photo on Google Image, I couldn't resist; what is more patriotic than a parallel display of Our Nation's Symbol and a half-peeled phallic fruit?

Just down the street, however, is another local favorite, Dad's Donuts. While Dad's has only been flogging carbs since the sixties, it claims to  sell the Original Balboa Bar and the "World's Best" frozen banana. Apparently, the competition is fierce. According to one source, Dad's once sent a hot teenage boy to pry the secret recipe for a favored topping from the girls behind the window.

While I may never solve this decades old mystery (Marcia, if you happen to read this perhaps you can offer a native's perspective), I feel obligated to evaluate the relative quality of each. A sacrifice, I know, but someone has to do it. Tomorrow, I plan to try the frozen banana at Dad's and see how it measures up to the one at Sugar 'N Spice.

Thursday, I'll buck up and move on to Balboa Bars. 

It's about a 3-mile walk around the perimeters of the Big and Little Islands. I'll need several laps to draw my conclusions and repair the damage.

P.S. to those who know the area. Word on the street from the old guys who drink coffee near Dad's in the morning is that the Fun Zone is being torn down. Good thing we made it here this year.

Spoiled

My name is Blue and I am a car service addict.  Nothing beats having someone pick you up at your house and schlepp your bags for you.  nothing beats getting off the plane, seeing your name on a placard and having someone schlepp your bags for you and deal with Sunday afternoon OC beach traffic. I know, it's that total faux celebrity thing.  But given the price of gas and parking it all evens out. That's what I'm telling myself.

We made it to Balboa safe and sound.

How long did it take Small Child to submerge herself in the bay? One hour.

We're expecting the onslaught of cousins shortly, so stay tuned.

Collated and Stapled

From the instant I opened my eyes this morning, it's been a train wreck kind of day. Wait. Let's change perspective. I'm supposed to believe in the power of language, right?

Revision: Today has been a delightful comedy of errors.

Hmmmm....not quite sure that worked, but it was worth a try.

You know those enormously powerful staple guns that builders use?  I found one of the staples in my (flat) left rear van tire this morning as I was leaving to take Large Dog to the boarding kennel. We shall make the Deflating Staple the emblem of the day.

A gnat cloud of errands later, I spent most of the afternoon packing Small Child's delightful,varied, colorful summer wardrobe. Were children's clothes that cute during the Cold War? No.

This evening I turned to my closet. Seeing my clothes laid glumly out in one place was, frankly, kind of funeral. I definitely need a change. My wardrobe is mostly monochromatic, drab, blend-into-the-foliage stuff. I think all those episode of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom I watched during my childhood seared the idea of the drab female into my brain. 

But those were females in their reproductive years, right? (I'm going to conveniently forget the fact that most females in the wild kingdom don't outlive their reproductive years). Now that I'm embarking on a new stage of life, perhaps it is time to set aside my black skirts and pants and plain, solid colored, deep earth toned tops. 

I think menopause should come with a month at a spa and a 5K* shopping spree. 

Hopefully I'll have time to post while I'm in California next week.  If not, see you when I return.

*Shoes, lingerie, sleepwear, workout clothes, jewelry, makeup, and other accessories not included. These items will require an additional stipend.

The Vacation To Be

Yesterday, The Man left for California to represent our small family at the Big Family Wedding. Small Child, Large Dog, and I have been rule breaking ever since. Nothing major, just things like pets on the new patio furniture, Large Dog upstairs, and thrown together meals eaten in bed.

Getting him out the door on time was a real clusterf*ck. His flight - the airport is about a two hour drive in traffic - left early this morning, and given that dawn does not elicit birdsong in his world he decided to stay at an airport hotel the night before. First, we thought we'd turn it into a family outing. You know, swimming, room service, etc. As departure grew nearer, and folks (uhm, one male in particular) grew grumpier, this plan turned into, "I think you'd have a much more relaxing trip if you had some quiet time the night before. Why don't we just run you down to the hotel?" As grumpiness degenerated into snarling, and I was faced with a drive into the city in rush hour traffic, I threw caution to the wind and called a car service, knowing full well that the likelihood of an available town car was slim. At this point, however, I'd have happily taken out a second mortgage for a super stretch limo.

The stars were in my corner. The service just happened to be making a one way run from the airport to the town just north of ours. So when The Man returned from yet another errand he'd neglected to plan for, I told him that he'd be transported in anonymous peace.

And we all heaved a huge sigh of relief.

Two hours later, a polite man with a German accent and a tie whisked him away.

And tomorrow I begin packing in earnest.

We will be spending a week and a day on Balboa Island. The Man spent portions of most childhood summers at his grandparents' house there and has many fond memories, including waving at John Wayne as he cruised the canals in a PT boat. I love this island, too, but I'm not so much looking forward to being cheek-to-jowl with my anorexic mother-in-law.

She who laughs last....

So the Geek ended up spending seven hours at our house yesterday.  My needs are more complex than most (big surprise!).  

The weak link was the old Airport Extreme base station. The new configuration, which I do not entirely understand, uses the old modem, a Time Capsule as the main router (with wireless backup as a bonus - whoo hoo), some weird plug in things that carry the signal through the house's wiring, a second router downstairs, and printers above and below. 

My favorite moment of the day?

The Man had, several months ago, purchased an expensive antivirus/spyware program that I knew, in my heart, he neither understood nor knew how to use. When our Geek tried to set his laptop up and ran into problems, he discovered that The Man Dell was infected with over 150 viruses and such. Geek (and I now was feeling even more affection for him) even implied that The  Man Dell's poor health could have been a contributing factor in The Man's inability to reach the Internet.

Snicker.

On another note, posts may be few and far between in the next few days, as I will be preparing for a trip to SoCal. My big summer getaway this year will be a family-in-law affair. While not my first choice, it should offer plenty of inspiration for the blog!

Significant Upgrade

I finally gave up trying to fix my own Internet problems. Yes, I succumbed to Geek Squad. Apparently, I'm just not enough of a geek to make our various machines work together in perfect harmony. Or maybe I'm just too much of the wrong kind of geek.

I'm away from the house right now, but when all is done I will have a groovy new Time Capsule for wireless backup, an extra router to extend wireless capability throughout the house (really, for true), and printers upstairs and downstairs. Then I can begin the process of moving my office to a room with an actual closing door.

Our Geek assures me that he can make The Man's machine play nice with my Mac, and that he will not leave until we both can connect to the net and print without any help from him.

This may be the best money I've spent in a while.