So, we finally found a reason to go places.

The eldest Daughter, Interrupted picked up sticks and moved to Silicon Valley this summer, and I realized I had a choice: I could throw myself to the ground and whine, or I could see this as a reason to visit northern California (a place I have always favored) more often.

Wisely, I chose the latter.

Vacation time was requested, opportunities to mix business with pleasure were identified, and we purchased TSA Precheck for Dad, Interrupted so that he could avoid getting patted down in front of hundreds of people every trip. Daughter, Interrupted just outdid herself in planning several days of fun in the south bay, complete with itinerary.


Day 1.

For someone who’s obsessive about not being late to the airport, I am shockingly lax in checking FlightAware so I neglect to note that our flight is going to be half an hour late departing. Which makes my obsessive ‘gotta be at TSA two hours before departure’ even more annoying, but at least we are going to be annoyed at the gate, and not annoyed running down a concourse at Sky Harbor, with our luggage flailing and our knickers in a twist.

TSA Precheck pays for itself first time through, as Dad, Interrupted can find no fault with his experience through the scanner. The hardest part of the whole experience is that he doesn’t believe he can leave his shoes, belt buckle, and watch on and just walk through a metal detector.

The flight, late as it is, is uneventful and we landed at Norman Y. Mineta San Jose International Airport with nary a hitch.

Now, this trip is meant, not just to be an excursion to gaze lovingly at Daughter, Interrupted and her family, but to try out some the interesting innovations that have developed lately in travel. We’re not going to rent a car; we’re not going to get a hotel room. No, on this visit to the Technological Center of The Universe, we’re fittingly going to try some tech.

Baby’s First Uber Ride is pronounced a success. Dung, our driver, is prompt. The car is immaculate. The trip is quick. No money changes hands, just a quick reference to an app so we can leave a tip.

Dad, Interrupted is pleased.

Our first AirBnb locale is beautiful, so I am pleased. The unit is beautiful, secluded, comfortable, and spotless.

It just gets better from here, and so I must warn you: if you’re waiting for some hilarious story where I wind up trading Dad, Interrupted for two dollars and a used VW bug, I’m afraid I must disappoint. The whole thing was awesome and I’m just writing it down so you can remind me of this when I’m complaining that my life sucks.

The family picks us up and takes us to dinner.

Dinner is at Gochi Japanese Fusion Tapas with Daughter and Boyfriend, Interrupted, where no shirt is presumably still a problem, but no shoes is a requirement. Mercifully and miraculously, I am wearing socks. We sit at low tables and I am astounded to find that I can get to my feet again without having to resort to crawling out of the dining area. I’m not sure I’ll be able to pull this off, though, so while I’m snarfing down agedashi tofu, I resolve to take up yoga when I get back to Phoenix so that I won’t have to worry about this in the future.

There’s a kitchen in that gorgeous Airbnb, so we stop at a Safeway on the way back to pick up various breakfast items. We’re in northern California, though, so we find bulk Mochi.

This many flavors of mochi requires documentation. When WordPress gets its act together, I’ll put it in there. Ah…there it is.


Dad, Interrupted, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.

Tomorrow: I go on a lunch, and then we go on a tour. Uber and Lyft get a workout.