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Hey, San Diego

San Diego Bay

I have been to San Diego before, but only to visit specific destinations in the city. I drove there from Los Angeles a few years ago to visit a friend who took me to the San Diego Zoo and Coronado Island, and I went again about a week later to see a Padres game at PETCO Park. I loved San Diego, but it was during this trip that I fell in love with San Diego.

After our visit to Los Angeles and Santa Barbara, my family and I hopped back in that rented SUV and creeped south down Interstate 5. Just prior to reaching San Diego’s city limits we made a stop in La Jolla, one of my favorite small towns in the United States. A rather affluent community, La Jolla is a hilly resort town that occupies 7 miles of coastline along the Pacific Ocean. We ate lunch on the rooftop terrace of George’s At The Cove, a restaurant overlooking the town’s sandy beaches and rocky shoreline. Then, we made our way to the coast, where wild seals swim and sunbathe among the town’s friendly beach-goers.

La Jolla Coastline (Notice seals on rock to far left)

When we arrived in San Diego, I realized the downtown has a similar feel to that of Denver, Colorado, where I lived for three years. Young people swarm the streets of both cities while locals enjoy beers on sidewalk patios. San Diego’s 16.5-block Gaslamp Quarter is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and fills streets with shopping, restaurants, bars and festivals. San Diego is the eighth largest city in the United States, but the constant sunshine and laid-back attitudes make it a manageable city to visit.

San Diego offers a gorgeous oceanfront walk with an adorable Seaport Village, an opportunity to visit the famous USS Midway ship and easy access to Coronado Island either by car or boat. The progressive San Diego Zoo rests on 100 acres of parkland and holds 4,000 animals, 800 species and is one of the few zoos in the world to house the giant panda. Even the airport is downtown, which makes it exceptionally easy for travel to and from the city.

Hotel del Coronado

Those visiting Coronado may enjoy an afternoon of shopping, walking and eating ice cream along the 7.7 square-mile island. Just do not leave the island without visiting the Hotel del Coronado, a beachfront luxury hotel built in 1888 and considered one of the few surviving examples of a wooden Victorian beach resort. It has even been listed in USA Today as one of the “Top 10 Resorts in the World.”

It is not easy to say goodbye to a city like San Diego, but then, what constantly sunny, relaxed beach town isn’t? I hope to see you again sometime, Southern California.

Sweet Santa Barbara

Santa Barbara's oceanfront from Stearn's Wharf pier

Just a hop, skip and a 100-mile car ride northwest of Los Angeles, California is a city many refer to as the “American Riviera”. Most dictionaries describe a Riviera as a coastal region with a subtropical climate and vegetation, and this is exactly what one would find upon arriving in the sunny city of Santa Barbara.

A popular resort and tourist destination, Santa Barbara sits colorfully along California’s coast between the San Ynez Mountains and the Pacific Ocean. On Friday morning, my family hopped in our rented SUV and made the two-hour trek along the Pacific Coast Highway to this vibrant city on the water. This would be my second trip to Santa Barbara, and both times I found myself content to aimlessly wander the palm tree-lined streets and leisurely take in the sights. There is much to see, but not much to rush to, and this combination only adds to the city’s charm.

We enjoyed an outdoor lunch at a restaurant along the historic Stearn’s Wharf, the center of activity along Santa Barbara’s waterfront. The city’s harbor accommodates more than 1,000 boats, so after lunch we made our way back up the pier and walked among the massive yachts lined perfectly along their wooden landings. The people of Santa Barbara appear both laid back about life and energetic about living in it. Some sip their afternoon cocktails, and others eagerly walk their dogs and boat shoes down the gated docks for a weekend at sea.

Away from the boats and beautiful beaches, one might meander down State Street, a road that runs from the ocean into Santa Barbara’s radiant downtown. Spanish Colonial Revival-style buildings fill the city’s blocks and house an array of different shops, restaurants and galleries. The mostly white buildings with red tile roofs create a stunning backdrop behind the tall green palm trees and against the bright blue sky.

Santa Barbara Harbor

Whether one has time for fine dining and a taste of the nightlife or a quick drive along Santa Barbara’s cultural town center, the city is well worth a visit. While an afternoon is all we had time for this trip, the city is one I would eagerly return to – even if just for a day of shopping, ice cream cones and walks along the harbor. Besides, I have not yet seen Santa Barbara’s wine country yet, and I can already hear it calling my name for some tastings in the future.

Walk Me Round Santa Monica

Santa Monica Pier

There is no better way to take the edge off a chilly Midwest spring than to hop a plane out west for a long weekend in the California sunshine. Though the palm trees and warm breeze give off a calming vibe when walking out of LAX, a visit to Los Angeles is not a trip everyone would describe as relaxing. Even at 10:00pm on a Wednesday, my brother, Dan, weaved his car through the crowded freeway traffic, passionately flipping the bird to overeager L.A. drivers as they sped past us. This is, of course, quite an average ride to a local like my brother, so I just sat back and laughed my way to his studio apartment in the neighborhood of Los Feliz.

In the one hour it took us to drive 30 miles to Santa Monica Thursday morning, I learned that Los Feliz is pronounced like “Los fee-liss” instead of how one might sing “Feliz Navidad” and that “Wilshire Drive” is actually “Will-sure” instead of “Will-Shire”. Now educated and prepared to attack the day, Dan dropped me off along the Third Street Promenade where I found a breakfast sandwich and café street patio with my name on it. Those who live in Santa Monica make it quite clear that they do indeed live in Santa Monica and not in L.A., as this west side of town is much different than a visit to Hollywood. While downtown Santa Monica is still crowded, the people are generally more laid-back and the energy is calmer than the glitz, glamor, hustle and bustle of L.A.’s entertainment district. This is the life, I thought as I soaked my face in the morning sun while slurping up the final drops of my freshly squeezed orange-pineapple juice.

Palm trees along the oceanfront

The Promenade encompasses several blocks of downtown Santa Monica and is lined with shops, restaurants and movie theaters. It is considered a premier shopping and dining district on the Westside of Los Angeles and makes for a popular tourist destination due to its close proximity to the Pacific Ocean. Performers fill the streets while families enjoy lunch, and friends laugh loudly over margaritas at an outdoor cantina.

As in most cities, one might even find an unexpected show like the one I witnessed on my afternoon stroll. I rounded a street corner just in time to see two grown men yelling and chasing each other in the street. As I tried to make sense of the situation, one of the men came barreling past me holding a Victoria’s Secret shopping bag while the other flagged down a policewoman passing on her bicycle. After the second man passionately argued that his Victoria’s Secret bag had been stolen, the officer hit the petals and chased down the thief. She even kept her bike helmet on during the embezzlement to be safe. In the end, she did find the thief and returned the bag and its contents to its rightful owner.

Not far from the Promenade, pigeons fill the lawns around Santa Monica’s oceanfront while homeless men and women curl up next to them in the grass or on park benches. Tourists walk this same oceanfront and along Santa Monica Pier while eating churros, snapping photos and breathing in the Pacific Ocean air. Dogs walk in and out of shops with their owners while rollerbladers skate their way through the paved beachfront paths.

Third Street Promenade, before the people showed up

The sun shines, people are somewhere between down-to-earth and crazy and, in my opinion, that is just the right place to be. I take in this West Coast way of life, but cannot help but think about the homeless lying by the beach. If I end up without a roof over my head someday, I thought, I may stay away from the Victoria’s Secret fighters along the Third Street Promenade, but Santa Monica’s oceanfront will definitely be on my list of places to sleep.

An Ode to Girlfriends

I have developed an increased understanding in recent years as to why women join book clubs. When I was younger, I thought women got married, lost all their friends and realized later they should not have spent so much time with their husbands and needed to find new friends. Instead, it has come to my attention that no matter the status of a woman’s career, relationships or lifestyle, she needs women in her life for the simple, yet critical reason of maintaining sanity on earth.

I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I managed to find and keep eight best girlfriends from college, pick up a few more in the time I lived in Florida and Denver, and have enjoyed near-weekly ladies nights with an amazing group of girls in Chicago. The quest for any woman to find another female she “clicks” with is not an easy venture, but those fortunate enough to find these true, deep friendships should do everything in their power to hold them close.

Few men can understand the bond women share, but nearly every woman would agree it exists. Females have an instinctive code of loyalty that aims to defend, fight for and protect those they love. Many call this “girl code,” and I have become an increased believer that the female species comes into the world genetically encrypted with it. We empower our fellow women to be happy, respected and to never settle. And we will defend against any man, boss or sour enemy that gets in the way of this.

Girlfriends have a way of enhancing the already good times in life and saving one another from the bad. Whether it means pulling out the high heels for a fancy night on the town or drowning away sorrows with Sex & the City marathons, frozen pizzas and a few bottles of wine, true girlfriends support it all with a solid shoulder to lean on and a round of shots waiting as backup. Women stand by one another, sob together and always find a way to justify why a day of eating too much chocolate and not exercising is actually healthy. Somehow, there is always a reason to deserve the indulgence.

It is not enough to have friends who are girls. No matter the age, every woman needs a girlfriend, a confidant she can call during a 2:00am panic attack, last-minute closet raid or emergency vent session. I am not new to understanding the importance of these friendships, but the older I get and the more I travel, the more I appreciate the role they play in life. True girlfriends not only provide happiness and love, but also bring forth a sense of peace and balance to this ever-spinning world. I would be a different person if I did not have friends like this, and I am a better person today because I do.

A Run Along Michigan

Chicago's Lakefront

It should only involve someone taking a walk along Chicago’s lakefront on a warm summer day to understand why people fall in love with the city. Chicago is the third largest city in the United States and, while overwhelming to some, there are places one might escape to feel comfortable and at peace. The Lakefront Trail is one of them.

After work today, I grabbed my iPod and walked out my back door into the flourishing green of Lincoln Park. Those who know me well will testify to my near-hatred of running, but today I wanted nothing more than to be among the sunshine and energy of Chicago’s emerging summer. I made my way down the paths of the city’s largest public park, running among the seasonal flag football and softball leagues, under bridges and toward the beaches of Lake Michigan.

Across Lakeshore Drive, I picked up Chicago’s Lakefront Trail, a 12-mile treasure for runners, bikers and rollerbladers. The trail was crowded today, as it is most other pleasant Chicago days, but somehow the elderly joggers, strolling walkers and overly competitive skaters fall into a successful rhythm of openly sharing the path – and the experience – together.

Engraved checkerboards top cement barriers along one side of the trail, while cuddling couples watch the crashing waves of Lake Michigan along the other. Just off the path, children take in the final afternoon minutes by throwing rocks in the water and begging parents for more time to build sand castles. Bar and grills sit among the sand offering beachside burgers and ice-cold drinks to enjoy on either a sunny rooftop or at a walk-up refreshment stand.

It seems there is no stronger reminder of Chicago’s magnificence than feeling the light breeze off the water, while standing small against the towering buildings that line this Great Lake. Chicago’s skyline engulfs its beaches in a way that seems to hug the lakefront. When standing just far enough from the city to see the skyline and close enough to the lake to realize the water’s strength, the vastness of the world becomes clearer.

I paused my run in an area where the land juts out in a such a way to see this entire picture and take in this exact vastness. With a good tune on my iPod, the sun still strong and my heavy breaths slowing to a more steady rhythm it all became clear. This is why I live here, I thought. This is why we all live here…for moments just like this.

To experience instances of absolute peace in life is, in my opinion, nothing short of a true blessing. I wanted to somehow freeze this moment on the lakefront – the musty springtime lake smell and the light breeze that rolled off the water, the sun still peeking bright through the high rises of the Gold Coast and the stillness I felt among all the activity around me. But instead I stood, watched, breathed and embraced how small I am in this big world we call life.

Lakefront Trail & Beach

It is amazing how in sync the movements of the world become once our own wheels stop turning so quickly. When I finally made my way home, my music seemed to beat perfectly to the bouncing volleyballs and steps of the free-running dogs chasing balls through the park. Four geese watched me circle a pond, standing at a focused attention as I passed. It seemed everyone remembered Chicago’s greatness this day…even the singing birds who had returned home after a long winter away.

All Dogs Go to Heaven

Sneakers, June 2007

I was in first grade when I experienced the death of my first pet. Runt was a golden retriever/german shepherd mix who my mother saved from euthanasia as a puppy. My mom refused to let someone kill an animal simply for being the runt of a litter, so she snuck Runt back to her apartment in a beer box and gave him a good home for 14 healthy years. The morning my parents had Runt put down, they told my younger siblings and I he died of old age in the vet’s office waiting room. It seemed a more peaceful and understandable story to tell children.

Five years later, we finally convinced my dad (we had my mom sold right away) to get us another dog, and in July of 1996 eight-week-old Sneakers joined our family. We decided Sneakers’ name after watching her form a playful attraction to my sister’s converse high-tops on our first family meet-and-greet. Nothing seemed a more appropriate title for the big-eared beagle pup.

Sneakers became an integral part of our family from the beginning. She was a lovable puppy who tripped constantly over her ears and enjoyed cuddling under our blankets after her morning walks around the neighborhood. One of her most characteristic traits was the excited sideways run that she developed as a puppy. She loved people, and whenever anyone came to see her, Sneakers wagged her tail so uncontrollably fast that her entire backside wiggled back and forth, therefore causing her to run sideways toward her greeter. “Hello little sideways puppy!” we would say.

It is hard to believe 15 years have gone by since that floppy little pup came into our lives. My siblings and I have gone through high school and college, traveled across the world and back, and Sneakers never failed to give us an excited and welcoming greeting each time we returned home. Even this past Christmas, when her hearing was poor and her eyesight even poorer, her increased energy and brightened face showed us that she understood the whole family was together again.

Sneakers’ vet said it is time for a dog to move on when he or she stops acting like a dog. This week, we made the decision to give Sneakers back the peace she brought my family over the years. As hard as it was, we let her go in hopes that she could be somewhere better than here…where she could act like a dog again. Although part of me wished someone told me a story that Sneakers died peacefully of old age on the vet’s waiting room floor, I know she did die with people she loved, and she died in peace. It is said that multiplying a dog’s age by seven will calculate his or her age in people years. Sneakers would have been 105 years old if she were human, and I think that is a pretty good run.

Though she was weak during our visit this Christmas, Sneakers made every lasting effort to be around us as much as possible. Perhaps, she also knew it might be the last time we would all be together as a family. One night, she even attempted to climb the stairs to our bedrooms, though my brother found her halfway through the mission and carried her back to her first-floor basket. Her tired, brittle legs were in no condition for a 12-step climb.

Where do dogs go after they die? I wonder if there is a separate animal heaven where Sneakers and Runt are chasing butterflies together near a pond where my countless childhood goldfish are swimming free. Or, maybe there is one place every living creature ends up after they leave this world. Will I get to see Sneakers again someday if I make it to this place called heaven too? Today I described to my friend Megan the place I hoped Sneakers is now. “She is there,” Megan said. “Their souls are too divine not to be.” In the two days Sneakers has been gone, three beagles have crossed my path in the strangest and unexpected of places. Perhaps this is Sneakers’ way of letting us know that she is okay and not to worry about her anymore.

Sneakers, Christmas 2010

Not everyone understands the heartache that comes with losing a pet, but maybe we should find strength in knowing that our animals trust us – perhaps more than we trust ourselves sometimes – to do what is right for them. Dogs are among the most loyal of creatures. They will stand by their loved ones until the end, never questioning their place in a family. Sneakers knew we loved her, and not because we gave her treats and toys. She knew because we treated her as well as any other member of our family, and perhaps even better sometimes. So, with tears in my eyes I send a heavyhearted goodbye to my baby, our forever chunk-a-bunk, Sneakers. Keep running, little girl. Your feeble legs cannot stop you anymore.