My father is a retired math teacher.
Every year, during the first week of school, he would show his students a video. The only film to be viewed in his class all year. Why? “It’s the only movie that matters.” he would tell me.
The movie?
Check it out... Square Roots!
It’s a wonderful 27 minute animation, following Donald Duck’s learning of the magic of geometry from a voice in the woods. Since my dad only showed it in his class once a year, the video stayed in our video cabinet for the other 364 days of the year. As short as the film was, and with as much time as I had in my day, I would watch this film often as a child.
My favorite part of this one is when Donald Duck first realizes that he is lost. First, he notices that all the birds have right triangles for beaks. Then he sees that the trees look kind of strange. He walks right up to one of them, and says in his ducky voice, “Well, whatdayaknow? Square Roots!”
I thought that line was hilarious. You can only imagine how stoked I was when I got to actually learn about square roots in school. “Square roots!” I would shout in my math class while working on problems.
“You’re weird!” random pretty girls would say back to me.
Sorry.
I’m getting off topic.
I’ve been thinking a lot about ROOTS lately…
The Roots
"Roots! Bloody roots!" - Sepultura
"Don't forget your roots!" - H2O
A friend of ours just visited us from Japan. She moved out there with her boyfriend a year ago.
She mentioned to us that in the time she’s been back in the USA, she’s started to feel homesick. That’s a funny kind of thing. A girl born and raised in Sunnyvale missing her home… Her home of one year. Japan!
It’s funny.
It’s funny how our sense of home can change.
It’s funny how I can relate.
You know that I grew up in the Santa Cruz Mountains. Ben Lomond, California, to be specific. To those who I figure don’t know, or don’t care to know, about Ben Lomond… I just tell them I’m from Santa Cruz. Not entirely true, but close enough.
Though I never lived in the city of Santa Cruz, I guess I could consider it my “home town”. From the time I was old enough to ride the bus on my own, Santa Cruz was my play ground. Once I learned how to drive, it was on.
Walking Pacific Avenue just to see what I could see.
Hitting up the Boardwalk to seek a thrill.
Working at the Boardwalk… and Juice World… and Streetlight Records… to get some scratch.
Going to punk rock shows.
Playing punk rock shows.
Cruising in the 1985 Honda Accord hatchback with my buddies from West Cliff to East Cliff and back.
Bonfires on the beach.
Bar hopping.
Santa Cruz is where I grew up.
Ben Lomond, however, is my home…
Well…
Ben Lomond was my home.
In 2002, while I was getting my credential at San Jose State, my folks sold the house in Ben Lomond and moved to Reno, Nevada. Good for them. The house is really nice. Good for me. When I go to Reno, I don’t have to pay for a hotel room.
But…
In a way…
Bad for me.
Bad for me because now that my parents don’t live in Ben Lomond any more, I don’t have a reason to go back to my home town.
As far as Santa Cruz goes, there are plenty of reasons to go there… I just don’t. At least… not as often as I should.
It’s funny.
It’s funny that over the last 10 years San Jose has become my new home.
It’s where I went to college. It’s where I made my career. It’s where I fell in love.
It’s funny that for the last two years, I’ve lived in Morgan Hill. It’s where I bought a home. It’s where I got married. It’s where I spend all my time.
It’s where I write this blog.
But let’s get back to my roots.
This morning, Kara and I went for a run…
in Santa Cruz.
Here are some pictures that Kara took with her phone (I should get one of those)…
West Cliff
Natural Bridges
It was such a beautiful, relaxing run.
We started at Lighthouse Beach State Park, right next to the Surfer Boy Statue. The run took us along the West Cliff trail to Natural Bridges and back.
It was beautiful.
I saw the Monterey Bay.
I saw the birds, and mussels, and ice plants.
I saw the people.
The locals. I was one once.
The tourists. I am one now.
Dogs.
Bikes.
And I smelled it. The ocean. The briny briny sea.
It made me think of scallops.
It made me want some food.
Food!
Let’s do this!
After the run, Kara and I drove over to 99 Bottles on Walnut Ave. (between Pacific and Cedar) in downtown SC.
We sat on the patio…
99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall
Here’s what I had…
Big Daddy IPA
The 99 Burger
Pickles, onions, tomato, lettuce, and the secret mustard-mayo sauce.
The beer was great. Nice and hoppy up front, with a crisp finish. The perfect beer to go with a burger.
The burger? Meh… It was all right. The condiments were really nice, but the actual burger… It wasn’t that great. The meat was a little over-cooked. It came off as being really crumbly. I think whoever formed the burger from the ground beef squished it a little too much. It’s the type of burger that you need a good beer with… to make you forget it.
Look…
Lunch was nice, and I really enjoyed going back to my roots… back to Santa Cruz…
BUT…
I was itching to leave.
I was ready to go home.
HOME.
Morgan Hill, California.
Stay Rad,
Jeff
Stay Rad 