The Difference Between Sitting and Standing.

We went south on December 27th.  Our Southern California agenda included a brief visit with my relatives, viewing a high school basketball game, and a trip to the Magic Kingdom.  We planned to return on Wednesday the 29th.  Here's how it all went down:

Sitting
Packed quite lightly, we set off for Claremont around 8:45 a.m.  The drive down Interstate 5 was largely uneventful.  The winter weather gave pause to an abundance of tule fog and splotchy clouds.  Most of the central state offered green, rolling hills, along with sardonic political signs blaming Congress for water shortages.  The Grapevine offered glimpses of snow and sunshine, and upon our descent into the definitive south, we were met with traffic.  I handled the wheel, while my wife intermittently slept in the passenger seat.

The traffic continued on the 210 East.  Our driving window missed the morning traffic, but apparently coincided with afternoon gridlock.  Stephanie and I saw the best of Pasadena, crawling along the freeway and discussing the merits of gift cards and shuffling through appropriately themed music (Death Cab for Cutie's "Why You'd Want to Live Here," The Decemberist's "Los Angeles, I'm Yours," and anything Gwen Stefani).  I complained about the discomfort of sitting and driving, and wondered aloud how we made it to South Africa on an airplane.

Standing
Claremont, if you are unfamiliar, is a quaint community east of Pasadena.  My uncle and aunt live there; both walk the quiet streets to their jobs at different Claremont colleges.  My uncle works at Harvey Mudd, where he's a professor of literature.  His wife works at Claremont Graduate University as a professor of religion.  Despite the fact that it mirrored their daily routine during the semester, they accommodated our seated travel with a brisk walk through parts of the campuses.  We settled at The Back Abbey, an awesome British pub with an intimidating burger menu and a stellar beer selection.  Between the rich conversation on Greece, fries cooked in duck fat, and a mean seasonal stout, we settled into a fine mood and warmed ourselves for a walk to the car and a quick jaunt to Orange.

With directions punched into the GPS, we navigated the highways towards Anaheim.  The lodging for the Jesuit High School basketball team was, we surmised, in Orange, the location of the tournament.  After walking into the wrong Hilton Suites and knocking on a few doors, we continued to Anaheim and settled at a Hilton near Disneyland.  Ben and the coaching staff hadn't yet eaten, so we made our way to a P.F. Chang's, where Steph and I enjoyed another beverage and chatted about the on-court happenings of the day.  We then made our way to Bar Louie in Anaheim Garden Walk for more of the same.

After some snoring, a groggy purchase of some park-hopper passes, and a breakfast buffet, we set off down South Harbor Boulevard in the brisk December sunshine.  We were warned of Monday's ticket sellout and admission cap for both theme parks, but we felt confident that if we arrived in the 8 o'clock hour we'd survive the rush.  We did, and got our first taste of fun on the Buzz Lightyear ride, where we slaughtered a number of aliens hellbent on eating batteries (I think that's the storyline, anyway).

As the people piled in, we made our way to Pirates of the Caribbean, where the 40-minute wait felt like a breeze.  We failed to procure any fast pass tickets because of our plans to see Jesuit play in the middle of the afternoon.  From Pirate's, we hit Splash Mountain.  I won the competition for first-to-see-someone-you-know, and we all got drenched before heading to Big Thunder Mountain for 75 minutes of zig-zaggin and a 2.5 minute roller coaster.

After the train ride, Ben split to meet up with the team, while Stephanie and I entered California Adventure for a quick walk and some lunch.  After another 75-minute ordeal (for food, believe it or not), we walked (and ate) our way back toward the Hilton to prepare for the game.

Sitting
The tournament, held at Chapman University, included teams from across the state (and one from a town in Washington named Squalicum).  Tired but excited, Stephanie and I enjoyed some top-notch hoops as the Marauders drowned the Squalicum Storm in flurry of three pointers and quick, cutting layups.  We were impressed not only by the stamina of the high school kids enduring a holiday road trip, but also by Ben's poise, and the ability of the Chapman University snack bar to out-coffee the Hilton.

Standing
After the game, Ben, Stephanie, and I made our way toward a Subway sandwich shop and eventually a reentry into Disneyland.  We hadn't yet learned of our good fortune that day, but we certainly knew the park was a popular spot.  We pushed our way to the Indian Jones Adventure, waiting 80 minutes to drive the SUV through the temple.  We passed the time with a number of cell phone checks, app downloads, and memories of our shared time in South Africa.

The ride ended just in time for us to catch the fireworks spectacular.  Amid the throng of oohing, ahhing fans, we managed to find a nice spot beneath an obstructive tree and coo along with the masses.

Our plan was to beat the crowd back to Big Thunder Mountain, but our plan was thwarted.  First, the Disney traffic directors made it impossible to get from Main Street to Adventure Land.  Then once we finally herded ourselves toward the ride, we found it closed.  The Matterhorn offered nothing better, so we swallowed our evening and prepared for Space Mountain's 120-minute wait.

As 8:50 became 9:45, and 10:00 became 10:30, we passed the time by playing variations of the I'm-thinking-of-a-person game, a game that if correctly played, most definitely helps to pass the long, cold minutes of waiting.  This game was first played by us at SFO waiting for a flight to JFK (and then to Johannesburg).  We've gotten pretty good at passing the time together.  By 10:40, we'd made it indoors.  We wound our way through the interior walkway, desperately seeking a place to sit.  We were not disappointed.

Out of leg strength and out of time, we called it a day and headed back to the Hilton for some sack time.

Sitting
After another Hilton breakfast, we took the Prius back toward the highway for a long stretch of traveling.  We stopped in Buttonwillow, where it became clear that Denny's is a place for travelers, not just old people.  I grazed a tumbleweed or two on I5, never surpassed 75 mph, and returned safely to the cat that evening.