I do not tan. It is a sad but irrefutable fact. Unlike my lovely wife, whose skin simply grows deeper and richer in color from a day in the sun, I have only two skin tones: pasty white or lobstery red. This hadn't been much of an issue, though, living on the east coast. Sure, I'd get the occasional red nose from an open sunroof or trucker's arm from a sunny drive up the Taconic Parkway, but nothing major. As such, I'd forgotten just how fierce, and unforgiving, the California sun can be. Well, at least until I found myself frying to a crisp on the beach in Santa Cruz.
Our Saturday started innocently enough. We wanted to get out of the house, but didn't know where to go, so we packed a few essentials for toddler travel (stroller, diapers, change of clothes, snacks, and Valium), and made our way west to Ocean Beach and then took US 1 south. Before we knew it, the toddler was asleep. Knowing our bundle of joy will wake, without fail, as soon as the car stopped, we just kept moving. It's a good thing we got that diesel Jetta with the great gas mileage because by the time Mimi started coming round we were already in Santa Cruz.
Sumie had never been to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, so we braved the abysmal traffic and parked in a grass overflow lot right below the log ride. The temperature difference was astounding. Between the heat and humidity Santa Cruz felt like NYC in July. That's Northern California, though. Drive more than an hour and chances are you'll need a change of clothes.
Mimi was still a bit young for the majority of the Boardwalk rides (I can't wait to take her on the Giant Dipper sometime soon), but we thought we'd give the carousel a shot. Santa Cruz's carousel is famous for still having brass rings, which are fed through a chute for riders on the outer horses. Shortly after plucking a ring you can throw it at a giant clown which goes off in a satisfying, flashing wail if you manage to hit the mouth. Or, if you're feeling nostalgic, you can pocket the ring, as I did when I was a kid. Either way, the carousel is a great piece of vintage Americana that still retains some of the good old danger of historic midway rides. And Mimi, seeing all the brightly colored horses spinning to the whirly-gig music, was excited to give it a go.
Sumie perched Mimi on an inside horse; better to keep a hold of her that way. Mimi was all smiles....
...at least until the massive contraption started spinning.
Within 2 revolutions the rest of the riders were having a great time, but Mimi, our brave little toddler, was screaming her head off. That's our girl.
From the carousel we made our way to the end of the boardwalk, where we found a nice cafe with outdoor seating. My neck and nose were already starting to feel a bit "red and raw," but Sumie insisted. And then, knowing Mimi loves the water, we headed to the beach.
I took Mimi down to the waves where she frolicked happily and I looked like an unprepared and dorky tourist with my rolled-up jeans. Wading finished, we headed back to Sumie and the beach blanket. There, having already played the aimless tourist, I impersonated a beached whale with sunglasses.
Sumie, of course, looked beautiful as ever. Mimi was overjoyed to spend some quality time with her Mama, as you can see.
As we left Santa Cruz, me already unable to turn my head due to neck burn, we marveled at the traffic coming into town on 17. At least 5 miles of massive, bumper-to-bumper snarl. Once again, getting out early paid off.
The next day, Sunday, was a busy one. The Cherry Blossom (Sakura) Festival was concluding that day with a parade in Japantown and Sumie had been asked to give a speech at a brunch recognizing outstanding Japanese seniors. As such, we woke up early and suited up. Mimi woke thinking she'd go as Moses.
Sumie was representing her hospital at the senior awards breakfast, which has sponsored the event for the past 4 years. We found it a bit of an odd request - I have a feeling someone in PR noticed her name in the list of new physicians and tagged her for it - but a welcome one. This year, 15 or so Japanese American veterans were recognized for their service during and after World War II. Despite their age, each one, without exception, refused assistance when ascending to the stage to receive their rewards. After all those years the determination, the pride, and the will to be independent was still there. In short, it was inspiring.
Sumie's speech, as well as the entire brunch, went well. We would've had pictures if Mimi hadn't decided to scream anytime someone took the stage. By 11:00 the brunch was over and Sumie and I were free to explore the Cherry Blossom Festival with Mimi.
I absolutely love Japanese festivals, or "matsuris." They're something uniquely Japanese. Part county fair, part neighborhood block party, and part Oktoberfest, there's no better way of getting in some games, community spirit, beer, and great food. Apparently, the entire Iwasaki clan here on the west coast missed matsuris as well, so by 1:00 or so we'd been joined by Sumie's brother and sister, their spouses, and all the cousins.
We lined up at various vendors for food - good, but not like in Japan - and then found a comfy curb to share it with the kids. Here's Mimi with Sumie's brother's kids, Shuhei and Asuka. Kae, Sumie's sister, was still looking for parking.
Shuhei and Asuka came dressed in festival clothes. They were ready to party!
But the mood soon changed. I think Mimi told Shuhei and Asuka a really bad joke. I'm not quite sure how she did it, but that's definitely what it looks like.
Before too long Kae arrived with her husband Ed and their three kids. Ed and I stood in line for takoyaki. These are savory Japanese donut holes with a bit of octopus in the middle. Odd sounding, yes, but also delicious. You can see the line below. It took us half an hour, but we got 'em.
I'm sorry to say that these takoyaki were nothing like what I'd experienced in Japan. Everyone still seemed to love them, but they just didn't cut the mustard. I want to have my own both next year and, even though I'm a gaijin (foreigner), show them what real takoyaki tastes like.
We were able to catch the tail end of the parade. Here's a look at the last shrine going by the Peace Pagoda, complete with semi-naked Japanese men. No matsuri would be complete without them.
Mimi was intrigued. When I asked her what she saw, she replied, "Oshiri." That's the Japanese word for butt.
It was a packed, but fantastic weekend. I'd been thinking we'd just take it easy, but I'm so glad that we went out and made the most of it. The only thing I would've changed is our wardrobe for the Cherry Blossom festival. From 8:30am to 3:00pm Sumie was navigating the matsuri in heels and I in a grey Burberry suit. I stuck out so severely that a vendor tried to force me into getting my face painted just for the irony. And I would've done it, too...if I didn't like that suit so much!
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