Carlsbad and Sandy Eggo

Eating at Jimmy's Famous American Tavern on Point Loma,
Friday night shortly after arrival in Sandy Eggo.
The grin is from the Guinness. Had fish and chips, they were AMAZING...

Okay, there are still many tales to relate from the trip out to the West Coast two weeks ago. Lots of museum photos (think aircraft and ships) and stories about food. I'm pretty sure I gained a couple of pounds out there. The food was almost as good as the company I was in.

These photos kind of relate my overall impression of the trip. Upon which I had a great, great time. Sort of a collage of "what I did in Sandy Eggo."

Our hotel in Carlsbad, not too shabby I thought.

That's our room on the third floor with the triple glass door, curtain open in the middle.

Overlooking the pool, that is the Pacific across the road.

The drive from Carlsbad to Sandy Eggo is pretty nice. High surf warning that weekend. Lots of spindrift in the air from the surf.

Lunch on Saturday afternoon was here. A great little place in downtown Carlsbad, great food, great service.

The whole tribe gathered to pig out in honor of L'il Sweetie's christening. (Our waiter Johnny took this and the next photo. A real sweet guy. Did I mention that the food was unbelievable?)

The other end of the table. That's the next to youngest granddaughter, The Owl, in the foreground.

Went to Casa  Guadalajara for dinner on Sunday night. Great Mexican food, great service and I have to say, first time being entertained by a mariachi band at dinner. I loved it. Of course, I kinda liked the carne asada and shrimp. Excellent food, great prices.

This place is on India Street, just down from Shakespeare's. If you like fish, you'll love this place. It's kinda non-standard. You stand in line to place your order (which takes a while, the place is popular) and then sit down. A waitress will then bring your food to the table. Well worth the wait. I had a calamari sandwich with a buffalo twist. The fish was done to perfection, tartar sauce, buffalo sauce, blue cheese, and the bread was perfectly toasted on the grill. I want another one, right now.

Yes, there is one obligatory stop I make every time I go to Sandy Eggo. This time I was there with The Missus Herself and The Nuke. Now all three kids have accompanied the old man to this spot. One of my favorite places out there. For a number of reasons.

I had a Guinness (duh) while the ladies attacked a pot of tea. How very English of them.

View from our hotel in Sandy Eggo. Again we have a pool view.
(Two nights in Carlsbad, one night in Sandy Eggo. Life is tough, neh?)

Right now the hotel has two towers, they're laying the ground work for a third. I really dig the palm trees out there!

We were on the fifteenth floor.

Looking towards downtown.

The nearby marina.

The marina (again, okay, I like marinas). Looking past that you can see North Island and beyond you can see Point Loma.

We could see two carriers from our perch, Theodore Roosevelt (where we spent Saturday morning) to the left, Carl Vinson (Big Time's new ride) to the right.

We had an awesome time but all too soon it was back on a plane to head back east.

To this...

The Saturday after the christening. Welcome back to Little Rhody.

Sunday after the storm. At least the sun came out. Most of that snow is gone now,  scarcely a week later.

Yes, I love my four seasons. Yes, I like seeing the snow on the ground. But...

There are days I'd rather be in Sandy Eggo, quaffing Guinness and eating seafood, or Mexican food. Maybe both at the same time.

Like I said. A great trip.

More Art

Art Carney (Source)

Of course, I remember him best as...

Yup, Norton, the guy who always seemed to be tangled up in one of Ralph Kramden's schemes. Much to Alice's displeasure. (Source)

I watched that show all the time as a kid, my kids watched it in reruns. The Nuke and The WSO would go into hysterics when the announcer announced the cast. Not sure what they found so funny about that, but I start chuckling when the Blazing Saddles theme is played at the beginning of the movie.

Okay, I'm a loon, perhaps some of that rubbed off on the progeny. (Perhaps?)

Loved this guy's music. Well, him and that Simon fellow.

Art Garfunkel (Source)

Speaking of which, this was, is, and shall remain a favorite when I'm in a contemplative mood.

I read this fellow's column religiously. I wept when he passed. A brilliant humorist.

Art Buchwald (Source)

Then there was this guy and his ukulele. Yup, we watched his show as kids.

Arthur Godfrey (Source)

Mr. Godfrey was also a pilot and served in the Navy.

Godfrey learned to fly in 1929 while working in broadcast radio in the Washington, D.C., area, starting with gliders, then learning to fly airplanes. He was badly injured on his way to a flying lesson one afternoon in 1931 when an oncoming truck lost its left front wheel and hit him head on. Godfrey spent months recuperating, and the injury would keep him from flying on active duty during World War II. He served as a reserve officer in the United States Navy in a public affairs role during the war. 

Godfrey used his pervasive fame to advocate a strong anti-Communist stance and to pitch for enhanced strategic air power in the Cold War atmosphere. In addition to his advocacy for civil rights, he became a strong promoter of his middle-class fans vacationing in Hawaii and Miami Beach, Florida, formerly enclaves for the wealthy. He made a television movie in 1953, taking the controls of an Eastern Airlines Lockheed Constellation airliner and flying to Miami, thus showing how safe airline travel had become. As a reserve officer, he used his public position to cajole the Navy into qualifying him as a Naval Aviator, and played that against the United States Air Force, who later successfully recruited him into the Air Force Reserve. At one time during the 1950s, Godfrey had flown every active aircraft in the military inventory.

His continued unpaid promotion of Eastern Airlines earned him the undying gratitude of good friend Eddie Rickenbacker, the World War I flying ace who was the president of the airline. He was such a good friend of the airline that Rickenbacker took a retiring Douglas DC-3, fitted it out with an executive interior and DC-4 engines, and presented it to Godfrey, who then used it to commute to the studios in New York City from his huge Leesburg, Virginia, farm every Sunday night. W

Another show I watched as a kid was hosted by this fellow...

Art Linkletter (Source)

Here's a clip from the show -

The first kid in the video, little Stevie. You know damn well the kid was a fighter pilot later in life. Six girlfriends at the age of six!?!

Bob Ross (Source)

Okay, his name wasn't art. But he painted art...

Okay, as for this whole "Art" thing...

I blame Suldog. Perhaps "inspired by" is a better turn of phrase. (His comment referring to Art Linkletter in yesterday's post set me off, I mean, "inspired me.")

Anyway, real art follows. I do so enjoy Monet.

Mouth of the Seine at Honfleur, 1865 - Claude Monet (Source)

The Magpie, 1868–1869 - Claude Monet (Source)

Good stuff.

Art

Le Serment des Horaces, Jacques-Louis David (Source)

Art? Really Sarge? Am I going all cultural with my loyal readers?

Well, yes and no.

Oath of the Horatii (French: Le Serment des Horaces), is a large painting by the French artist Jacques-Louis David painted in 1784 and now on display in the Louvre in Paris. The painting immediately became a huge success with critics and the public, and remains one of the best known paintings in the Neoclassical style.

It depicts a scene from a Roman legend about a dispute between two warring cities, Rome and Alba Longa, and stresses the importance of patriotism and masculine self-sacrifice for one's country. Instead of the two cities sending their armies to war, they agree to choose three men from each city; the victor in that fight will be the victorious city. From Rome, three brothers from a Roman family, the Horatii, agree to end the war by fighting three brothers from a family of Alba Longa, the Curiatii. The three brothers, all of whom appear willing to sacrifice their lives for the good of Rome, are shown saluting their father who holds their swords out for them. Of the three Horatii brothers, only one shall survive the confrontation. However, it is the surviving brother who is able to kill the other three fighters from Alba Longa: he chases the three fighters, causing them to separate from each other, and then, in turn, kills each Curiatii brother. Aside from the three brothers depicted, David also represents, in the bottom right corner, a woman crying whilst sitting down. She is Camilla, a sister of the Horatii brothers, who is also betrothed to one of the Curiatii fighters, and thus she weeps in the realisation that, in any case, she will lose someone she loves.

The principal sources for the story behind David's Oath are the first book of Livy (sections 24-6) which was elaborated by Dionysius in book 3 of his Roman Antiquities. However, the moment depicted in David's painting is his own invention.

It grew to be considered a paragon of neoclassical art. The painting increased David's fame, allowing him to take on his own students. W

In the aftermath of the crud I came down with on Tuesday evening last (and suffered through most of Wednesday instant), I found myself rather unmotivated and just a wee bit tired and out of sorts yesterday. I am entertaining the theory that my Muse, horrified by my recent bout of intestinal whatever, fled the scene, thinking perhaps that whatever it was that afflicted me might well be contagious.

I am waiting to see if The Missus Herself shows any symptoms before I can prove or disprove that theory, yes, I know, one sparrow doth not a spring make. One point of data won't prove or disprove anything, it simply indicates...

Let's just say SCIENCE! And leave it at that.

So, in an effort to entertain the readership the thought occurred to me that as I like art, so must the readership. Maybe. Perhaps. And we shall see.

Anyhoo... (and we all know what that means*)

I did a search for classic art. One of the many images provided by Monsieur Google was that one above. That painting was done by one of my favorite painters Jacques-Louis David, a favorite of the Emperor Napoléon hisself. Probably due to efforts such as...

Serment de l'armée fait à l'Empereur après la distribution des aigles, 5 décembre 1804, Jacques-Louis David (Source)

At any rate, it inspired me to do this post on art. I like art, especially that done in the classical or neo-classical style. So...

HA! Take that Muse, I am not completely useless on my own! (Which means of course, that I am semi-useless on my own. I guess.)

Pollice Verso, Jean-Leon Gérôme (Source)

So what say you? Thumbs up or thumbs down as to your feelings about art?

Hey, culture...

For we don't wish to be regarded as некультурный as the Russians might say, do we?

Heavens no. 





* Classic OAFS indication of a digression coming to a conclusion. 

Les Misérables

Sick Husband, 1881 - Vassily Maximov (Source)

If you plug the title of today's post into Google Translate, it will yield a single word, "Wretched."

That is exactly how I felt Tuesday evening. I had just completed Wednesday's post when I felt, something.

A low rumbling from the nether regions, a rumbling of evil portent.

I passed it off (pun not intended) as a bit of gas. Didn't think much of it.

Until all Hell broke loose.

It was a wretched evening, filled with bizarre dreams and a great deal of discomfort. Had I been placed lying on my back on a frictionless surface, I would have been violently propelled backwards. Once I had slid to a halt, I would then have been propelled violently in the opposite direction.

Newton's Third Law in action. I'm postulating that there was a bit of bad beef in my intake yesterday. A bit of bad something, that's for sure.

The less said about Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning the better. I stayed home from work and spent the day laid up in my rack, bemoaning my fate.

That old meme about men turning into complete babies when they get sick?

Absolutely true.

As A Little Child...

And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them: and his disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. Mark 10:13-16 (King James Version)

Earlier this month, as you all know, I traveled to Sandy Eggo. I've posted some pictures of some the places we visited but have yet to reveal exactly why we went there.

It all has to do with that young lady in the opening photo, she is Your Humble Scribe's youngest granddaughter, the newest member of our extended famiglia.

We traveled from Michigan, from Little Rhody, from Virginia, and from parts further north in California. On a warm Saturday morn, in the waters of San Diego Bay, we boarded the mighty aircraft carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt. (It was the first time we'd seen the kids, their spouses, and all four grandkids in one spot. Only The Sealawyer missed the trip, for he had classes to attend and a sick pooch to babysit.)

The TR, as she is known in the Navy, CVN-71.

She's tied up to have some work done on her, her crew was mostly ashore on that fine Saturday. We had her pretty much all to ourselves...

The Flight Deck

Father Bill, the former chaplain of the USS Ronald Reagan, and who also provided spiritual support and comfort to the men and women of the USS George Washington on her recent trip around South America, had agreed with my son-in-law to perform a baptism of Big Time and The WSO's youngest. The wee lass I like to call L'il Sweetie.

So on that morning, we gathered in TR's chapel, to celebrate the christening of this gift from God.

Godmother and Babe

Big Time read a passage from the Gospels.

Father Bill instructed the parents and godparents.

And the family of Christ received the babe into its loving arms.

While in some traditions the baby is christened either under the ship's bell or using the ship's bell as a font, here a simple brass font was used. My granddaughter's name will be inscribed upon the ship's bell and she will be a part of TR for all it's days.

Note the names inscribed on USS Normandy's bell.
Boatswains Mate Seaman Recruit Marcel Cochran shines the ship's bell aboard USS Normandy (CG 60). (U.S. Navy photo by Midshipman 1st Class Seth Chung/Released)

It was a day to remember. Yesterday was a day to sing of those who went before, today is a day to sing of this young child, may her future ever be bright. As bright as the ship's bell, as bright as that lovely day in San Diego Bay.

The proud grandparents.

The proud parents, godparents, and big sister.

Posing with Father Bill, who performed an excellent service. Even the kids didn't fidget.
Much...

The godparents with their godchildren.

And again...

The smiles were many that day, though Little Bit seems ready to go ashore.

The proud godmother with her goddaughters.

Big sister and the cousins contemplate the events of the morning.

Sandy Eggo skyline.

USS Midway in the sun.

Proud grandpa strikes a pose, trying to look all salty.

Hey Big Time! What do staff officers do on cruise?

It was a lovely day, nearly perfect in every way.