Happy Birthday to Lara, today. 40 must hit hard.

Also, before I forget, we need a 24 soon … Brek available this weekend any day? Let me know.
Poker next Wednesday, regardless of the number of players. It’s happening folks, don’t you disbelieve it.

Now, the LA component of the adventure: we arrived and checked in to the Airport Radisson, where dad and I had such a pleasant stay last time. Correctly figuring that hiring a car would be prerable to taxi rides in LA, we hired a Camry with GPS and set off - the mission, was to find a) lunch and b) Warner Bros Studio Tour for Woo (I went with Dad 2 years ago). Mission one was accomplished with Taco Bell near the studio, and eventually we found the tour location of mission two for Woo to get on the 4pm tour. I went to Bank of America and was generally screwed around by bureaucracy before hitting a laundromat with a Domino’s pizza emporium next door. Fate?

6pm I headed back to the tour locale, where Woo had just finished the tour and had a good time. The trip home took a couple more hours, and we had In-N-Out burgers on the way home for tea. I went to bed, Woo went to the bar upstairs for general merriment.

Next day - Saturday - was our final day in LA, and indeed, the US. Woo was meeting friends, who were going out for food with him, but I had nothing particular planned, so I checked out LA Airport’s reknowned strip clubs, where the special of the day was $1 Steak and Chips. Hooray! The $5 cover charge, and the $6 cokes mitigated that success somewhat, but it was still a good way to kill a few hours. Ultimately, though, I got bored, and by about 4pm, I caught a cab back to the Radisson to sit in their upstairs bar and read my book with a few Sam Adam’s.

The flight back sucked, always sucks more than you remember it sucking. This flight didn’t even have Video on Demand, so I tried to sleep, which is usually a fruitless endeavour, but I had some limited success on this occasion. Catching an international flight from LAX is an example of how stupid people can be - you have to line up in no less than 3 lines throughout the check-in process. And again, I repeat my constant decree: I’ll never fly economy again.

Well … until next year./sigh

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