"Well, you can definitely tell which ones are the tourists." I reached over and pulled our luggage from the carrousel. Another flight, another connection made without any drama. We had arrived at San Diego International via a nonstop flight from Chicago. Although the Windy City had been unseasonably warm for late December, southern California felt heads ands shoulders above the Midwest.
Ashley and I strolled toward the rental car booths. Uninhibited sunlight spilled through the airport skylights, illuminating everything in a warm glow. The mercury here registered a solid 75 degrees - slightly higher than average. The tourists clicked along in shorts and T-shirts, while the locals appeared to be chilly. Despite the balmy coastal air, they bundled themselves in jeans, hooded sweatshirts, and plush winter jackets. Even the tiny punt-worthy dogs were wearing vests.
Ashley and I had planned our trip with utmost brilliance. Although we were in San Diego for a late Christmas with family, we sprung for our own accommodations. We'd have the freedom of our own rental car, the privacy of our own hotel room, and would be located along the water, right in downtown San Diego. Thus, we'd have the ability to explore the city on our own, but also link up with the family when appropriate.
At the rental office I signed the insurance waiver and was given a set of keys. Within minutes, we were zipping toward Harbor Drive in a beige Toyota Corolla, which I actually found impressively responsive. We checked in to our hotel at about lunchtime, less than an hour after arriving in San Diego, after a four-hour flight from Chicago, following a two-hour drive originating from my dairy farm on a dead-end road in Green County, Wisconsin. What a tribute to the efficiency and organization of our society.
I engaged friendly chat with the hotel receptionist, who smiled sweetly and asked, "So are you in town for the Wienerschnitzel Parade?" My face must have registered a look of confusion, so she indulged me. This week, there would be a parade, with "More balloons than the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York City." Featured, is a float that showcases Wienerschnitzel pride. Literally, people dress up their schnitzels in outfits and costumes, and some walk them down the street wearing fake hot dog buns and condiments. I thought that it sounded a little psychotic, like the woman who pushes a baby carriage loaded with cats. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut.
I pondered for a moment, "You know, this 'schnitzel pride' sounds a little like our Cheese Days festival. Every two years, my hometown celebrates its cheese-making heritage with a three-day gala. You can try different kinds of cheeses, there's a cow milking contest, and a big parade."
Now it was the receptionist's turn to look amusedly shocked. She smiled and responded, "You know, our hotel manager is from Wisconsin. We always thought he was joking when he told us about the Cheese Days festival. Turns out, he wasn't."
I decided immediately that I liked San Diego.
Ashley and I dumped our bags and burst out into the warm, inviting air. We would meet up with the family soon enough. First, we decided on a walk along the harbor. There was bound to be a seafood restaurant close by. As we walked, we realized that we were being watched. Every so often, a face would appear in the water, and then disappear. Each time, it was closer. Also apparent was that it seemed to be mocking us. It would weave its way around the moored boats. Each time it surfaced, Ashley would rush to ready her camera. At the opportune moment, it would disappear before she could snap a picture. So it went, and she never did get a shot of the seal.
As we walked, the aircraft carrier museum USS Midway loomed impressively ahead. Just past, a footpath lined with trees advertised something called "The Greatest Generation Walking Tour." There could be no doubt that San Diego is a Navy town. Ashley and I walked along the path. This was a tastefully designed, very pleasant walk that featured memorials and art sculptures honoring those who have served, with special salute to World War II.
A particularly moving piece was titled "Homecoming." It featured a sailor and a woman in a warm embrace, with a small child wrapping arms around the leg of the father. This sculpture depicts the sacrifices made by families during deployment. Further down the path were a Battle of Leyte Gulf Memorial, and a tribute to each of America's Naval Aircraft Carriers. Despite the bustle of a big city backdrop, the Greatest Generation Walk was a somber, thought-provoking reflection.
The largest, and most recognizable sculpture along the walk was titled, "Unconditional Surrender." At the end of World War II, a photo was snapped in Times Square, New York City, when a sailor grabbed a young nurse and kissed her. "Unconditional Surrender' is a 25-foot statue of the embrace, as iconic and identifiable as any image that has ever been produced.
Most impressive of the walk was that everyone seemed to be quietly taking it all in. There were picnickers on the grass, people taking photos, and crowds milling about. Everyone was polite. With all that the walk represented, it was not difficult to feel reflective.
And, what a beautiful backdrop the USS Midway, and the San Diego city skyline made.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
Ashley and I strolled toward the rental car booths. Uninhibited sunlight spilled through the airport skylights, illuminating everything in a warm glow. The mercury here registered a solid 75 degrees - slightly higher than average. The tourists clicked along in shorts and T-shirts, while the locals appeared to be chilly. Despite the balmy coastal air, they bundled themselves in jeans, hooded sweatshirts, and plush winter jackets. Even the tiny punt-worthy dogs were wearing vests.
Ashley and I had planned our trip with utmost brilliance. Although we were in San Diego for a late Christmas with family, we sprung for our own accommodations. We'd have the freedom of our own rental car, the privacy of our own hotel room, and would be located along the water, right in downtown San Diego. Thus, we'd have the ability to explore the city on our own, but also link up with the family when appropriate.
At the rental office I signed the insurance waiver and was given a set of keys. Within minutes, we were zipping toward Harbor Drive in a beige Toyota Corolla, which I actually found impressively responsive. We checked in to our hotel at about lunchtime, less than an hour after arriving in San Diego, after a four-hour flight from Chicago, following a two-hour drive originating from my dairy farm on a dead-end road in Green County, Wisconsin. What a tribute to the efficiency and organization of our society.
I engaged friendly chat with the hotel receptionist, who smiled sweetly and asked, "So are you in town for the Wienerschnitzel Parade?" My face must have registered a look of confusion, so she indulged me. This week, there would be a parade, with "More balloons than the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York City." Featured, is a float that showcases Wienerschnitzel pride. Literally, people dress up their schnitzels in outfits and costumes, and some walk them down the street wearing fake hot dog buns and condiments. I thought that it sounded a little psychotic, like the woman who pushes a baby carriage loaded with cats. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut.
I pondered for a moment, "You know, this 'schnitzel pride' sounds a little like our Cheese Days festival. Every two years, my hometown celebrates its cheese-making heritage with a three-day gala. You can try different kinds of cheeses, there's a cow milking contest, and a big parade."
Now it was the receptionist's turn to look amusedly shocked. She smiled and responded, "You know, our hotel manager is from Wisconsin. We always thought he was joking when he told us about the Cheese Days festival. Turns out, he wasn't."
I decided immediately that I liked San Diego.
Ashley and I dumped our bags and burst out into the warm, inviting air. We would meet up with the family soon enough. First, we decided on a walk along the harbor. There was bound to be a seafood restaurant close by. As we walked, we realized that we were being watched. Every so often, a face would appear in the water, and then disappear. Each time, it was closer. Also apparent was that it seemed to be mocking us. It would weave its way around the moored boats. Each time it surfaced, Ashley would rush to ready her camera. At the opportune moment, it would disappear before she could snap a picture. So it went, and she never did get a shot of the seal.
As we walked, the aircraft carrier museum USS Midway loomed impressively ahead. Just past, a footpath lined with trees advertised something called "The Greatest Generation Walking Tour." There could be no doubt that San Diego is a Navy town. Ashley and I walked along the path. This was a tastefully designed, very pleasant walk that featured memorials and art sculptures honoring those who have served, with special salute to World War II.
A particularly moving piece was titled "Homecoming." It featured a sailor and a woman in a warm embrace, with a small child wrapping arms around the leg of the father. This sculpture depicts the sacrifices made by families during deployment. Further down the path were a Battle of Leyte Gulf Memorial, and a tribute to each of America's Naval Aircraft Carriers. Despite the bustle of a big city backdrop, the Greatest Generation Walk was a somber, thought-provoking reflection.
The largest, and most recognizable sculpture along the walk was titled, "Unconditional Surrender." At the end of World War II, a photo was snapped in Times Square, New York City, when a sailor grabbed a young nurse and kissed her. "Unconditional Surrender' is a 25-foot statue of the embrace, as iconic and identifiable as any image that has ever been produced.
Most impressive of the walk was that everyone seemed to be quietly taking it all in. There were picnickers on the grass, people taking photos, and crowds milling about. Everyone was polite. With all that the walk represented, it was not difficult to feel reflective.
And, what a beautiful backdrop the USS Midway, and the San Diego city skyline made.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
