Songs tonight and my problem with the Rangers' #4

1) Goodbye Time-Conway Twitty
2) I Never Go Around Mirrors-Keith Whitley
3) Shadow of a Doubt-Earl Thomas Conley
4) You Didn't Have a Good Time-Randy Travis
5) Mr. Natural-Bee Gees
6) Bed of Roses-Merle Haggard
7) She's Got a Single Thing In Mind-Conway Twitty
8) Play Born to Lose Again-Ronnie Milsap
9) The Wrestler-Bruce Springsteen
10) Ain't No Grave-Johnny Cash

I don't hate Michael Del Zotto. I hate this idea that he's a great offensive defenseman. Because he just isn't. That idea that gets shoved down our throats is just a bunch of propaganda being spewed about by female Ranger fans (and that one guy Vince, so who knows what problem he has) for no other reason than he's supposedly a good looking guy. It just bothers me when people get a free pass like that for that one sole reason.

Frequently when Del Zotto plays, his teammates on the ice are Marian Gaborik, Brad Richards, Rick Nash, and Marc Staal. Now Staal is one of the finest defensive defensemen in the game. And for years, this franchise has done a horrible job drafting offensive-minded defensemen. Whatever success Del Zotto has is by nothing other than association. I think it is almost to this point and I can't believe I'm going to write this. If I knew the Rangers were going to win a Stanley Cup this year and Del Zotto was going to score the Cup-winning goal, if it was up to me, I'd actually consider throwing the championship back.

Obviously, I couldn't watch tonight thanks to NHL Network. But the Rangers rally to score four goals in the third period and win 5-2. Yet, I still struggle to enjoy it. It's not supposed to be like this. It's not. Something needs to change.

Frauds and other tidbits

1) If you're a diehard fan of a team, you can only have one favorite team per sport. There is no way around it. There is nothing wrong with respecting another team, nothing wrong with hoping another team performs well if yours doesn't. But if you have an emotional, dyed-in-the-wool attachment to a logo, to a uniform, to that team name, that type of devotion, that type of passion can only go one way. CI needs to learn about that.

2) I don't want to dislike the Blackhawks. I respect the franchise. But there are certain fans who are making liking the team harder and harder...

3) Great win by the Knicks in Boston, their first since 2006. 89-86 the final score, Carmelo Anthony drops 28 points, while J.R. Smith drills a late 3 to clinch it after a woeful shooting night. Now, if they can just beat Chicago...

4) I've applied for 12 jobs. No responses yet. Although at least four different insurance companies want to hire me as a sales rep or sales manager. Pass. I'd rather drive that bakery truck my mom's chiropractor recommended to me for the rest of my life than sell insurance. I do have a meeting at Willow Creek on Sunday morning about a possible position. I'm not expecting my dream offer. I don't even know if I'm getting  an offer with a paid position. But they want to meet with me, so we'll see.

5) There are few things in life as the combination of a good strength workout, a protein shake, and a hot shower that make me feel so good and tough.

Sunday night

Yeah I think this one's gonna be pretty sports-based.

Well congrats to the 49ers on winning the NFC. Very impressive the way they rallied from 17-0 down to defeat Atlanta in the Georgia Dome. I think it's pretty short-sighted the way so many "experts" call Atlanta chokers just because they lost. Is a loss always the same as a choke? They blew the lead, so maybe they did. They had home field, that's even worse evidence. But everyone I knew picked San Francisco to win this game. They said SF was a more well-rounded team, a more complete team.So if Atlanta did lose to the better team, how is it a choke? Didn't the game end up the way it was supposed to end up?

And the Taliban of sports is about to host the AFC title game again and I'm sure they'll thrash Baltimore. Only question is will it be by 10 points, 30 points, or somewhere in the middle. No Mom, I don't care if you grew up in New England. I'm tempted to deny ever going to college in that region just because of the stench that comes from Foxboro.

And it's the Rangers home opener as I type. I am not expecting this team to have the best record in the Eastern Conference like so many people are. They turned over almost half their forwards and with no exhibition games and almost no training camp, that favors teams who rosters stayed similar. Pittsburgh, Boston, etc. And for the second straight game, the Rangers take a penalty 30 seconds into the game! And James Neal scores a power play goal, something the Rangers know nothing about doing by the way...Two minutes after I type that, they score on a 5-on-3 lol! 1-1. I think this team will take time to find their way, but not for one second do I think they're winning the Eastern Conference, let alone the greatest trophy in all of sports.

Let's talk about something good. Six things I'm thankful for in pro wrestling.

1) Damien Sandow
2) Antonio Cesaro
3) Daniel Bryan
4) Ring of Honor
5) SCUM theme song
6) JBL doing commentary on TV

Five things in pro wrestling that need to go

1) Bully Ray as a main eventer
2) The idea that Brooke Hogan would ever want to marry Bully Ray
3) AJ's character being changed on a monthly basis
4) The Shield not wrestling on television
5) The Miz as a babyface

3-1 Pittsburgh after the first period. 10-3 in favor of the dirtbags from New England. I'm not surprised at all.

Recovery

So I've been out of the office for 10 days now already. Feels like weeks. And on top of that, I've been sick basically all week and I'm just starting to get past it. Last night, I couldn't even control my temperature. I was so cold, I actually showered twice.

It feels like God is really trying to wear me down and that's not necessarily a bad thing. I feel pretty bare at this point and he's teaching me to remember him more. My health, my income. Those are two pretty tough blows.

The goal for this weekend is to customize my cover letter. Then on Monday, even though it's MLK Day, I will apply, apply, apply.

NHL Predictions

Well we will have a hockey season in 2013, as I found out Sunday morning right when I woke up at 4 am. Here are my picks for the 48-game sprint which begins January 19.

Eastern Conference
Atlantic Division
x1-Pittsburgh
x5-NY Rangers
x8-New Jersey
Philadelphia
NY Islanders

Northeast Division
x2-Boston
x6-Buffalo
x7-Ottawa
Montreal
Toronto

Southeast Division
x3-Washington
x4-Carolina
Tampa Bay
Winnipeg
Florida

Western Conference
Central Division
1x-St. Louis
4x-Chicago
6x-Nashville
8x-Detroit
Columbus

Northwest Division
3x-Vancouver
7x-Minnesota
Edmonton
Colorado
Calgary

Pacific Division
2x-Los Angeles
5x-San Jose
Phoenix
Anaheim
Dallas

Hart Trophy: Evgeni Malkin
Vezina: Henrik Lundqvist

ECF: Pittsburgh over Boston
WCF: San Jose over St. Louis
SCF: Pittsburgh over San Jose

Christmas: Chapter 8-Home bound

So we woke up at 6 am and got to the airport by 7:30. Customs took very little time to get through this time around. Going through the security was particularly bizarre. There was almost no line, maybe two people ahead of us. I just had to place the carry on bag and my backpack on the belt and take my phone out of my pocket and place it in a tray.Everything else: my wallet, loose change, chapstick, and handkerchief stayed in my pants. My shoes stayed on my feet. My belt remained buckled around my waist.

Then we checked out the duty-free shop, which mom told me usually offers much better merchandise than the duty-free shops in the States. They had tons of fragrances and a copious amount of cigarettes and alcohol. I was surprised that they were selling Argentine beef roasts there. Granted, they all cost between $60 and $110, so I wasn't about to purchase one. I did buy some Havanna milk chocolate that I gave to Catherine.

We got to sit in first class again, but I only slept about an hour. I just didn't feel tired anymore. We quickly got served lunch, but the service was embarrassing. They kept filling our wine glasses, but never asked us about re-filling our water glasses, even after we woke up from our naps. And between the two of us, they continually gave us wrong items. Mom got a dessert she didn't want. She asked for the Grand Marnier fruit salad, she got a plate of cheeses, crackers, and grapes. For my appetizer, I wound up having ceviche  instead of the cold cuts platter. Also, they gave me the cucumber mint dressing on my salad and told me they had run out of olive oil and vinegar. And there were three main courses listed: a chicken, a beef, and a fish. Well, they explained immediately that fish wasn't available. So I went with the chicken. After we had finished eating, through the curtain, Mom could see one of the attendants eating fish. Unbelievable.

I watched three movies; The Campaign, People Like Us, and The Words. I liked all of them, I think I liked The Words the most though. I admit looking at Olivia Wilde in that movie was a pleasure. An excellent pleasure. The video screen also includes a variety of video games. I played the miniature golf game and I was done after 12 holes. I think I took a 12 on three or four holes!

We landed and got through customs. For whatever reason, they detained me, but not mom. It may have been because I was carrying two bags. It may have been because I said it was my first time visiting Argentina. I don't know. But I walked into this little corridor where it was just me and three staff guys. I remained as courteous as I could, I just wanted to know why I was asked to come over and nobody else was. But it wasn't too bad. I just had to throw my luggage through more security and I was done. All in all, it delayed me by about ten minutes.

And then, after claiming and re-checking our luggage to Chicago, we had to go through security all over again. I can only imagine if I had bought alcohol or some cologne, some kind of liquid. It could very well have been confiscated by TSA! But we got through and grabbed a slice of pizza each, not very good pizza either. I should have just gotten a Naked juice and called it a night. We got bumped off of one flight to Chicago, the only time wet got bumped in five flights flying standby, which is really good around Christmas and New Year's. We finally got the 9:30 plane home and landed around 11:45 Saturday night. We walked through our door around 1 in the morning and Mom went straight to bed. I don't know why or how, but I stayed awake for the next hour unpacking, uploading photos, and preparing laundry. And I'd like to say it felt good to sleep in my own bed again. But as cold as that bedroom was, I can't say I would have minded one more night in Florida or Argentina.

Christmas: Chapter 7-Final full day in Argentina

We did sleep late, finally rising around 9:45 in the morning. With some time to kill before the lunch places opened at noon, we decided to check out some spots on San Martin, a road bordering the hotel that we had not really explored yet. We quickly found a soccer shop and I soon noticed a dark marine Argentina soccer jersey that I really preferred to the traditional one with its vertical white and powder blue stripes. This one was navy, with powder blue and white stripes going down the shoulders and sleeves. For $30, I got it. It was an extra large and the chest is still kind of tight on me; I'm convinced I bought a youth jersey. But hey, it fit me better than any of the adult jerseys! Maybe if they had an adult large, I would have gone for that, but all they had was small and medium for adults. It all worked out for the best though.

We spent a few minutes inside a huge church that we could actually see from our room, called Basilica de Santisimo Sacramento, or the Blessed Sacrament. I had stepped inside so many churches on this trip I lost count. But the intricate interior of this one really stood out. It featured a very Gothic design and took eight years to complete, opening in 1916. It truly is a luxurious, sacred place to worship. I'm not Catholic, but I couldn't help but be in awe of this structure.

At noon, we headed up the block to Filo, which I heard was a great pizza place. I found it interesting that they served my Coke served in a wine glass. They gave a sampling of great bruschetta and a basket of thinly sliced Italian bread. One thing was weird to me about this place, as well as every restaurant I had been to in Argentina. There was salt on the table, but no pepper. I finally had to ask and they brought out a big pepper mill for me. We studied the menu which was in Spanish and Italian. It's kind of sad I knew the Spanish better than the Italian, but what can you do. We got a mixed salad of lettuce, hearts of palm, corn, provolone, tomatoes, and sprouts, a healthy, fresh way to start the meal. Then we ordered a large pizza with proscuitto (it turned out to just be regular ham), artichoke hearts, and mushrooms. It was a very light pie, a very nice combination of flavors, especially with some extra parmesan and oregano.

Then began the hour-long walk in the 85 degree heat northwest to Recoleta. We passed the Bartolome Mitre Plaza, the Eva Peron Plaza, and a statue of Louis Braille. I checked, there's wasn't any Braille on the latter state.  Mom was getting tired, but I got us to the Evita museum. It's not enormous, it's like a decent sized two-story house with a lot of small rooms. I was glad there were a lot of English translations for the biographies and descriptions on the walls. Unfortunately, there were headphones available for guided audio tours, but the girl at the front desk didn't tell us about them. Maybe they were only in Spanish. But I took many photos, no flash. My impression was always that Evita was a very incredibly compassionate and charitable woman. Indeed she was. But as I listened to her speeches and heard her voice for the first time, she also struck me as very forceful and tough as well. This woman was no pushover.

After spending over an hour there, we walked around India Republic Street and around the zoo (I did get a look at a couple of flamingoes, and up Sarmiento Avenue toward Plaza Italia. We decided to take the D line of the subway or subte. It only cost us $1.10 per ride and most of the stations we passed appeared to be kept pretty clean. I was a little surprised by what I saw when the train came. The cars were covered in graffiti, but it looked like well designed graffiti, it didn't look like gangs had left their mark or anything like that. But I can't imagine a train in America having that kind of work done on it. And the interior of the cars was made of plywood. And as soon as we got on, our only hope was to be able to keep our balance. Forget any chance of finding a seat, there was barely any room to stand. A completely packed train with no air conditioning. If it was 80 degrees outside, it had to be 95 in that train. Anyway, we took the D line nine stops to the C line. We transferred and went three stops north to the San Martin stop, about two blocks from the Marriott.

Feeling thirsty, I treated Mom to Arnold Palmers at Starbucks. She wanted to stay and shop, but I was ready to head back and chill out. So I headed to the pool to get a little bit of tanning in. As luxurious as this hotel is, I was amazed how small the pool was. It was no larger than the pool at the Country Inn and Suites in St. Augustine, maybe even a little bit smaller. The wind was blowing pretty hard too, but I was determined to spend as much time relaxing outside as I could.

I headed back to the room and for the first time in three days, I checked Facebook. Then, we headed to Puerto Madero for dinner. We walked by maybe 15 restaurants, before settling on Cabaña Las Lilas, probably the most crowded steakhouse we saw. We got an outdoor table and through their computer kiosk, ordered a 2010 Malbec reserve for $30. I'm no connoisseur of wine, but I loved how well rounded and flavorful this wine tasted. It was created with love and attention to detail. This was one of those wines we had to drink really slowly to appreciate.

They brought out an appetizer platter that they give to all the customers. It was a white round plate with little sections for eggplant and black olives, roasted tomatoes, grilled salmon, buccatini, or tiny balls of fresh mozzarella, and roasted red peppers. Everything tasted fresh and delicious. We both ordered the strip steak.
The beef does all the talking. It's barely seasoned, but it doesn't really need to be. The meat is so lean and flavorful and juicy by itself. It wasn't as large as I had hoped, but it was enough. Actually it was probably enough because I wound up eating half of Mom's steak too. We also ordered mashed potatoes and sauteed vegetables, both of which were served to us on the plate by the waitstaff. Very courteous, very knowledgeable.

And we thought we were done. Just as we paid the check, the waiters came to our table again. They gave us more limoncello and tequila along with chilled shot glasses. After my third mixed shot, we called it a night and  found our way back to the hotel. I wanted to have a beer in the bar but she convinced me to head back to the room. One more game of Scrabble that I was too tired to pay attention to. Nothing was on TV, so I decided to crash, which wasn't exactly hard to do.

Christmas: Chapter 6-Second day in Argentina

I woke up at 7:45, and my heart sank. There had been no phone call, which all but clued me in that my luggage still hadn't arrived. I changed out of my AA pajamas and had to put on the same clothes I'd had on for 36 hours. Black and brown boots, black slacks, black ROH t-shirt, blue, button down, short-sleeve, silk shirt. I really tried not to be upset, but I was getting more apprehensive, and I guess I wasn't the best time for someone to be around me. I guess I annoyed my mother since I wasn't speaking much. But I walked over to McDonald's on Florida St, about a block, for mom's coffee. Cost 7.50 pesos, or about $1.50 American.

We took a city tour on a bus with about 15 other people. They were from all over: Brazil, San Francisco, even a couple from Flossmoor, IL, about 45 minutes east of St. Charles. We started the tour in Puerto Madero, which is one of the newest areas to be developed in the city. It's also the most expensive neighborhood in Buenos Aires to live. Then we went to the Plaza de Mayo, right in the heart of downtown. We saw the Government House, the National Cathedral, the Cabildo (the only building influenced by Spanish architecture still standing in the city), the National Bank, and several diagonal streets, which is a French influence.

From there, we went south to San Telmo, which used to be the rich area, then became the place for immigrants, and is now a spot for tango, cafes, and art exhibitions. Then we traveled to La Boca, which is kind of the artsy barrio in Buenos Aires. There's a lot of poverty in this area. But there is also the soccer stadium for Boca Juniors, a very popular and successful club team. We stepped out of the van and explored Caminito, a very colorful neighborhood with cobblestone streets. We watched a couple doing the tango in the front of a tavern, it was pretty cool.

Then we went back north, to Palermo and Recoleta. We saw United Nations Park, home of the enormous Steel Flower, and we passed by Luna Park, where many concerts and recreation events take place. The highlight was visiting the Recoleta Cemetery, the most visited tourist attraction in the city. We saw the mausoleum of the Duarte family, the final resting place for Eva Peron. The place reminded very much of a New Orleans cemetery, with so many mausoleums and so little room. Some of them are much better maintained than others, it just depends on what families are willing to spend the money to keep their sites looking good.

By now it was noon, 85 degrees, and I was feeling disgusting. They started dropping us off at the hotels, and we were first. My bag still had not arrived. Mom and I began walking down Santa Fe, which is a major shopping street in Recoleta and Palermo. Somehow, we got into another fight and we just separated for the afternoon. I went into a pizza parlor that the business man had told me about. It was called El Cuartito. But with the crazy lines, lack of order, and Spanish-only menus, I didn't feel comfortable ordering, so I took off.

After an hour or so of walking and window-shopping, I found a parrilla, or steakhouse, with a lunch special. A choice of ten main dishes, choice of five side, and a drink for 95 pesos, or $19. I went with a chargrilled kabob of steak, chicken, and bacon with a side of mashed potatoes, and mineral water to drink. I admit wine would have been nice at that point, but I guess I wanted to stay hydrated more than I wanted to get a buzz. So I was eating alone, the owner didn't speak great English, but he did his best.

I ate a couple of rolls and I liked that i got served three different sauces. There was some kind of spread with tomato and onion, a sweet pepper relish, and a chimichurri, one of my favorites. I knew the latter was going on my steak. Form my seat, I could see the chef grilling the meats over charcoal, always a good sign. Just a great aroma. The meal was really great and with the $3 tip (10 percent is standard in Argentina), it was a great lunch deal for a nice restaurant.

I then spent a lot of time hunting for souvenirs. But there just wan't really a shirt or picture or belt or figurine that really jumped out to me. I was hoping for a belt, since Argentina is known for their leather goods. But alas, it wasn't meant to be. I even checked out the major mall, about two blocks away from the Marriott, Galerios Pacifico. But all I bought in the three-level shopping center was a bottled Tazo Giant Peach iced tea in Starbucks. I gave them an American $20 bill and got back my first Argentine pesos. It tasted just perfect, my first taste of tea in maybe four days. Even though it had only been two days, I really needed a break from Coke, water, and red wine.I was really proud of myself as I walked out onto the street. I was able to have a meal in a foreign restaurant and overcame the language issue.

Around 4:15, I headed back to the room, where I found Mom sleeping. But I found something else. My bag finally arrived, apparently just minutes before I walked through the door. I had spent maybe 60 hours in my those clothes and it felt so liberating to throw on my workout clothes and sneakers. But with the very present tension filling the air, I said nothing and made as little noise as possible as I walked out.

The gym was of pretty good quality, certainly better than the Comfort Inn, which had nothing but three cardio machines and a TV. This one had 15 cardio machines, towels, dumbbells, nautilis equipment, and several benches. I only did maybe five or six exercises, but I did make one major error in judgement. I had been lifting dumbbells for most of the workout. Then I decided to use the bench press. What I didn't know was the weights were in kilograms, not pounds. So I put the 40's on each side, with the weight of the bar, that would mean I'd be lifting 130 pounds or so. Well I laid down, lifted the bar, and immediately knew I had no chance to lift it. I could feel my right elbow really straining. Thankfully, the trainer picked it up and I was ok. I looked at the convert chart on the side of the bench press and I just froze in terror. what I thought was 130 pounds turned out to be 130 kilograms or 286 pounds! It's pretty funny now, but I know I could have been seriously injured.

I headed back to the room, showered, and Mom and I played another game of Scrabble. Then we went to La Estancia for dinner, where she and David had gone maybe 15 years before. We had a really old, curmudgeon waiter who spoke no English and I think was having trouble with his eyes. Mom thought he was adorable, I just liked that he had some attitude. We split a bottle of Merlot-Malbec wine and water. He then bought us each a meat pie. It looked like an empanada. Also included was a side of hot giardiniera, just like in Chicago. I was very impressed with the pie. It had a very flaky crust and the meat was seasoned really nicely. And the relish added a nice punch of heat and extra flavor. I could have just eaten several of those and been very happy. I really wanted to order Provoleta, which I heard was a big appetizer in Argentina. I think the reason is it blends the flavors of Spain and Italy in an approachable, simple way. They take an inch-thick round disk of provolone, grill it so it starts to melt and gets crispy on the outside and really gooey on the inside. Then they season it generously with oregano and chili powder. It tasted just great, especially with some bread.

We decided to take a break from steak and ordered a half chicken and French fries. It was good, but not great, not as juicy as I expected. We wound up saving the leg and thigh that we of course forgot to take with us. On the way back, I picked up a Coke for me, a diet Coke for her, and a large bottle water for us to split.
We wound up playing more Scrabble. I still can't believe a word as simple as jeer gave her 40 points and wiped me out. There weren't a whole lot of TV channels in English, but we did watch "When Harry Met Sally" on one of them. That was a fun way to end the night. We fell asleep around 1 in the morning with every intention to sleep late.

Christmas: Chapter 5-Arriving in Argentina

So we deplaned and headed to customs. We proceeded to spend almost two hours on line. What we didn't expect was to have to pay a reciprocal fee just to enter the country, which all citizens of America, Australia, and Canada have to pay. But of course, the US citizens have today the most, a whopping $160 per person. You only have today it I've every ten years, but it totally blindsided both of us.

Then, we went to collect our luggage. I found mom's within a few minutes. But mine, the big red suitcase with the ugly lime green handle was nowhere to be found. We asked the airline staff and they told us the bag was still in Miami. Furthermore, the next flight from Miami was coming in around 11 pm. So I'd be wearing the same clothes for say least two days straight. I have to admit I was extra worried about my bag because this was international travel. I've heard stories about bags getting broken into and I dreaded something of mine would get stolen.

So we got a car service for about $45 and after a 45 minute drive to downtown Burenos Aires, the guy took us to the wrong hotel. Eventually, we wound up at the Marriott Plaza, located in the Retiro section, right across the street from the San Martin Plaza. We got room 373, which had a king sized bed and a roll away, the latter for me. We also had to get a converter/adapter since they use 220 volt electricity. And their plugs are slanted on a 45 degree angle, unlike ours, which are straight. The other unique feature was to turn the bathroom lights on or to charge an electronic device, we had to place one of our room keys in a slot right by the door. I don't know, maybe they're trying to save electricity or maybe it's some kind of security measure.

We got our stuff put away, well, she got hers put away, it took no time for me. And we headed to Sabot, a restaurant a couple of blocks away that I had read about in several Argentina travel books. It was kind of a quiet, meat-focused joint with waiters dressed in white tuxedoes. We started with a Harlequin salad, mom's recommendation, with shrimp, avocado, celery, and hearts of palm with a dressing made of ketchup and mayo, so I guess it was like a thousand island. Pretty light, but fresh starter. We split a half bottle of Syrah wine and I ordered the mixed grill skewers. I got two skewers of chargrilled steak, chicken, and ham with a side of matchstick potatoes. The potatoes didn't do anything for me. I liked the steak and chicken, and even the ham was ok, and I almost never eat ham. Mom got a shrimp and rice dish that looked pretty good. It was a nice place, we were treated very well, but the food didn't blow me away to the point that I would return if I came back.

Mom went back to the room to take a nap, while I decided to explore downtown Buenos Aires. I noticed a few things. They drive very fast downtown, red lights seem to be suggestions to some of these drivers. It's like the police say "Can we recommend slowing down?" And the vast majority of the streets are one-way. I was appalled by so many people smoking. It;s just disgusting. And very few people seemed to be smiling. It was like New York in the sense that these people had some place to go and they were on a mission to get there ASAP. And even though they speak Spanish first, most people can speak English if you start speaking it to them. And aside from language, there is far less Spanish influence in the city than I imagined. There is a lot of French and Italian in terms of architecture, food, pronunciation, etc.

So after walking throughout Microcentro and Retiro for a good two hours, I decided to sit down in San Martin Park. I wrote in my notebook and just did some people watching. All of a sudden, this guy in his 50's wearing a business suit and slightly balding, came up to me and asked where I was from. He said he was a native, but he liked working on his English with foreigners. We talked about our pasts and he gave me some ideas of places to go in town, like museums and restaurants. I made sure to not use complicated words and to talk a little bit slower than I normally would do.

After about a half hour, I excused myself, thanked him for his time, and went back across the street and took a nap in the room. I don't remember what time I fell asleep, but I know I didn't wake up till eight at night. I wasn't even hungry, but I was desperate for some cold water. But neither of us really felt like leaving the room. We gave in and opened the large bottle of Evian in the room. Sure, it cost $6.50, but we didn't care. We just played Scrabble on her I-Pad and I somehow scored 300 points for a victory. She beat me in the next two though. Finally, we fell asleep.

Christmas: Chapter 4-Transition

I got seat 2G in first class and was the first to board the plane. The first thing I noticed was the abundance of leg room. Right across from my extra wide seat was a smaller seat where someone else could sit down or where I could rest my feet. That would have sold me right there. But it got even better.

The seat included a control panel to adjust it. I had a foot rest, a swivel seat, lumbar support, reclining, and the ability to lower the while away into a flat bed. I hung my fleece on the personal coat hook and sat down. Within five minutes, the flight attendants offered me a set of Bose noise canceling headphones, a copy of either the New York Times or the USA Today, and a cup of champagne, orange juice, or water.

I also had a travel kit with blindfold, lotions, glasses cleaner, headphones, earplugs, and tan neoprene socks. I also got a pair of pinstriped American Airlines pajamas. Little did I know then how valuable the socks and pajamas would prove to be in the days ahead. I immediately took my boots and black socks off and put on the provided socks, they felt so comfortable!

My space also came equipped with two tray tables, adjustable mood lighting, a power outlet, and my own personal video screen, with which I could watch a variety of TV shows and movies at my command.
So we took off and they asked my beverage choice and I asked for a glass of Argentine Malbec, a red wine. It was a little to bold for my taste, so after I finished it, I switched to a Pinot Noir.

I had a warm pretzel roll from their bread basket, great way to start. I enjoyed my salad with tiny bottles of olive oil and vinegar. Fire Mt main course, I had a beef tenderloin with tomato chile sauce.  It tasted like braided beef, it was ok, but nothing like a a steak that comes of a grill. It came with a side of Pompano peppers and onions with some steamed broccoli, a really good accompaniment.

And how could I pass on dessert? I got the specialty sundae, which wad an apple crisp sundae with vanillas ice cream, caramel, rice crisps, and candied pecans. Absolutely great.

I tried to watch some movie with Kevin Spacey about a financial firm but I was spent. So a half hour into it,  I lowered my seat into the bed position, covered myself with two blankets and slept six or seven hours.

I woke up with an hour left in the flight. Immediately, they were serving me breakfast. I got orange juice along with fresh fruit and a bad omelet with some white cheese in it and some kind of tomato mushroom sauce on the side. Not to impressed. Within an hour, we landed in Argentina. But I admit I could have used another two hours on the plane just to enjoy it a little more...

Christmas: Chapter 3-Florida

Christmas morning. I must have sent out about 20 texts and got replies to probably 18. I ran downstairs to get mom some coffee and I snuck in two egg patties, a cranberry muffin, and an orange for myself. We started the morning by walking across the bridge of the Lions, a drawbridge which connects downtown St. Augustine to Anastasia Island.

We parked in the lot of the Anchorage Inn, a small motel, right next to the foot of the bridge on Anastasia Island. The woman working the desk ran out and told us we couldn't leave our car there, not even for 20 minutes to take a walk. Keep in mind, we were maybe the fifth car in the lot out of maybe 30 total spaces. We still had to move the tin can. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. So we took maybe 25 minutes to walk the bridge each way and then we headed over to Columbia on St. George St. This was my first time at this location, my second visit overall. I was struck by the atmosphere of Spain music, several fountains, and old Spanish and Cuban artwork. It's really a beautiful atmosphere.

We started with a pitcher of the house red sangria, which had a great blend of wine and fruit, not too sweet, but not bitter. It's a very well balanced sangria. The hot Cuban bread isn't even fair. The fact that they serve each guest a half loaf wrapped in parchment paper somehow makes it seem more special. The crust is very crunchy, but there is a dense long-lasting taste to the inside of the bread that sets it apart from other breads.

The 1905 salad prepared tableside. I know it's been written about a lot, but I'll just say this. I still have no idea how such a simple salad tastes so darn good. I'm not even a fan of ham and green olives and I love this salad! But I recommend to get it with the shrimp al ajillo, with adds an extra burst of garlic and chili pepper. It's some of the best shrimp I've ever had.

We had a tapas sampler of fried shrimp supreme, baked scallops, and meat skewers with chicken, chorizo, pork, and onions. I wasn't thrilled with the shrimp, the batter was just not crispy enough, The scallops with the lemon, butter, and bread crumbs were excellent, I would definitely order these again. The skewers came out quite well, but I especially liked how juicy and large the chunks of chicken were.

For dessert, we went with the guava turnover. I'm not the biggest guava eater, but I loved the sugar coated flaky pastry. I could have any filling with that pastry and be happy. I have to knock the service for being way too slow, even thought it was Christmas. But between the atmosphere, extensive menu, and food quality, Columbia is a must-visit for me every time I visit Florida.

So from there, we began driving north towards Jacksonville and to Amelia Isle. I didn't think the sangria affected me, but it must have, because as Christmas R&B was playing on the radio, I napped for maybe a half hour. So in about an hour, we reached Amelia Isle, a very exclusive area north of Jacksonville. We drove through the town of Fernandina Beach, a small beach town with a lot of elevated beach-style homes, apartments, and hotels, not a lot of businesses there. We got out and took a few photos of the sand, ocean, and pier. Mom carved Merry Christmas 2012 in the sand with a stick and we took a photo and I posted it to Facebook. The way I was squatting behind it, I looked like Mike Piazza. As walked back to the tin can, we saw a Santa Claus sitting on a Harley Davidson. I asked him if he upgraded from his sleigh.

So anyway, we waited for four hours to board the plane in one of the deadest airports I've ever seen. Here's what is terrible. American Airlines has just one gate in the terminal, that's all they would pay for. So if one flight gets delayed, the entire flight scheduled gets delayed too. We were supposed to leave at 7:30 and we left for Miami at 9 pm. Thankfully, we made it with an hour to spare. But I remember that flight being very turbulent. It was to the point I asked the flight attendant for ginger ale to calm my stomach down. And I also remember right at the end of the flight, the guy next to me sneezed on my arm. Sick. Anyway, it had been a  pretty long day and we were about to fly nine hours to Argentina. I was ready to relax. Little did I know what was in store on the next plane.

Christmas-Chapter 2: Florida

I got up at 7 on Christmas Eve and immediately headed downstairs to the fitness center and lifted dumbbells for about 20 minutes. Then I headed over to the breakfast area where I munched on a freshly made waffle, raisins, and a couple of walnuts.

We decided to make a stop by the St. Augustine Outlets. I explored Tommy Bahama, Rockport, Reebok, Ecco, Merrell, Under Armour, Adidas, Nike, but I didn't come away with anything. I give TB credit, all men's clothing was marked 50 percent off. And at Merrell, I was very intrigued by this one pair of Dark Earth walking boots. But I decided not to make a purchase.

We drove to downtown St. Aug's and decided to ride the Old Town Trolley through the city. This trolley makes 22 stops throughout the city at spots like Flagler College, several classic churches, including one that is over 425 years old and is the oldest in the United States, the oldest house in St. Augustine, Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum, and the Fountain of Youth.

I spent a lot of time by myself strolling down St. George Street, which is a major, but very narrow, pedestrian walkway filled with small shops and restaurants. I bought a Jets bottle jacket, or a bottle condom as some people call them. I also passed the oldest wooden schoolhouse in the country, which has its own gift shop. I also saw they have Kilwin's, like Sarasota did. This place makes their own chocolate and ice cream. I did get a sample of pumpkin pie ice cream, which tasted amazing, especially with the pieces of graham cracker crust in it. But I knew it was almost lunch time, so I waited for a bit.

We met up for lunch at Harry's, which is a New Orleans-style restaurant. We sat outside on their very crowded patio, which as a Chicago resident, I'm not used to doing in December. And we were surrounded by different plants, flowers, and pigeons. Dozens of pigeons. We started with the jazzy trio appetizer of fried shrimp, calamari, and crawfish tossed in a creamy aioli and green onions served over a bed of iceberg lettuce. I thought it was fine, though I would have preferred to dip the seafood in the aioli myself. Instead, it made some of the breading on the seafood a little soggier than it needed to be.

I ordered the tilapia shrimp meneiure with smashed red potatoes with sour cream and garlic. I really liked the brown butter sauce when I mixed it with the potatoes. And the shrimp really helped make a decent fish dish taste really good. Mom ordered the grilled mahi with steamed veggies. It came out seasoned simply and incredibly moist.

We gave into dessert and went with the bananas foster, sliced bananas sautéed in dark rum and banana liqueur, poured over vanilla ice cream with some cinnamon. We had to eat them pretty fast since the ice cream was melting so fast. This dessert was just invigorating. The richness of the liquer with the sweetness of the ice cream is such a good marriage. A really, really good finish. The service was pretty attentive, we didn't really notice any major waits, like some people have talked about. All in all, I enjoyed my experience, but I might switch my order if I was to return.

We finished the last nine stops of the trolley tour and headed for the Comfort Inn Suites, not quite as nice a hotel as the Fairfield Inn, but closer to downtown. We stayed in two different hotels because one was free and one would allow mom to earn more points on her Marriott card and upgrade her member status. We definitely downgraded. Fewer outlets, fewer TV channels, fewer bathroom amenities, etc. But hey, if the room is clean and has a bed and a TV, I can make it work.

At 4, we left to attend Christmas Eve service downtown at Memorial Presbyterian Church, a parish which was founded in 1889. The GPS led us to the wrong site, despite me entering the correct church name into the machine. But apparently it's a character flaw for me because I could not admit I messed up. Did I mess, up I guess it's debatable. I was just being honest, which apparently can get lead to more trouble. The lesson is when you enter places into a GPS, you should enter addresses, not place names. We found the church in plenty of time, parked about two blocks away, that's important for later, and headed to the magnificent old edifice. The shape of the building is a cross, the seating is very limited, and the pipe organ echoes throughout the building. It actually felt more like a Catholic church without all the extra rituals.

As we began to leave, Mom realized she did not have the car keys. I stayed calm, I stayed patient, or so I thought. I made sure to not raise my voice or anything, but apparently, on the way out of the building, I gave her one wrong look. And that was enough to cause a problem. I ran back to the car, tried pulling the tin can door open...nothing. I re-traced our steps down the barely lit sidewalks past all these houses. I ran back to the church, nothing. Ran back to the tin can, she was pulling out of the lot. I got inside where I got verbally lambasted for the whole 15 minute drive back to the hotel. It got to the point where she threatened to not go to Argentina, typical BS, and she just dropped me off at the hotel while she headed out. I decided to go to the business office and use the computer for a while.

Eventually she came back and asked me if I wanted to order some nachos from the Mexican restaurant across the street. Which was absurd, considering it was Christmas Eve night and nothing was open except convenient stores. She went out again for maybe an hour or more and eventually came back with some coffee and a donut from 7-11. At least we were talking a little bit by the end of the night, but I did not go to bed very happy and found myself wondering why I was even there. Why did Christmas Eve have to end in such a frustrating way? At least a new day was ahead.

Christmas-Chapter 1: Florida

After attending the 7 pm Christmas service at Willow Creek, we left around 8:30. Excellent service as always, I'm glad I got to see one this year after missing out in 2011.

I remember before the service, Mom mentioned she was dying for some pizza. I guess Weight Watchers is already taking a toll. Well, ok the way home, that wasn't even a topic of conversation. Because we knew we would have to be awake in five hours to head to the airport. So we arrived home at 9:15 and I made a Greek salad for dinner.

The plan was to take a nonstop flight to Jacksonville at 8:30 and arrive around noon. Well, that flight filled up so we came up with a Plan B. We planned to board the 5:30 flight to Miami and them connect to Jacksonville. Unfortunately, we were 15 and 16 on the standby list on a flight that was booked to capacity. Not good odds.

So around 5, Mom texted me to walk two gates down and we worked at a spare computer, figuring out our plan. She checked the Miami flight and to our absolute amazement, we had already been assigned seats! Separated, of course. She wound up sitting next to a woman I had noticed in the terminal. Pretty hard not to notice her, as a matter of fact. This gal was packing a good 220 pounds. And she was wearing a pair of tan torn shorts that only missed her knees by 10 or 12 inches and a t-shirt with Mr Rogers face on it and it said "It's good in the hood." Right before we took off, Mom texted me. "I feel so little."

We landed in Miami and grabbed a couple of hot dogs at Nathans to hold us over. This was my first time in the Miami airport in maybe 15 years. All I remembered was a lot of Burger Kings, dark lighting, and a lot of announcements in Spanish. Well now, it's brighter with a lot more shopping and dining options than i remember. I definitely would say there are more international flights then domestic.

So we made the 11:50 flight and got on the American Eagle plane. We landed with no issues, but had to wait a half hour to go to the gate. Apparently, we had to wait for the next plane to leave our gate, even though there were three empty gates right next to it.

Our car is a black Nissan, but I'm calling it the tin can. Every time this car is in park, the engine sounds like a bunch of loose change being shaken around the bottom of a tin can. And I was especially disappointed it only has one charger port. So I spent half the ride charging my bell phone and the other half charging my GPS.

We drove to 95, then down 295, and took 10 east to Atlantic beach so we could drive south on the coastline road instead of on 95, which isn't exactly a scenic route. We turned off in Ponte Vedre Beach and drove by TPC at Sawgrass, where the PGA holds The Players Championship every May. But first, we stopped at the Palm Beach Fish House; we were starving.

This place is a seaside shack really, it's just one small dining room and a long bar. It took at least five minutes to get any service but our waitress was very sweet and knowledgeable. And kind of cute too. We started with an order of fried clam bellies which came with some tarter sauce. They came out crispy and tender, just a really good seafood appetizer. Mom ordered seared tuna with an Asian salad, which she easily polished off. I opted for a pan fried cod sandwich with Old Bay fries and steamed veggies. I'm not a big cod fan, but it was good. The French bread was toasted nicely, the cod tasted very fresh, and it was topped with iceberg lettuce, tomato slices, and tarter sauce. I thought the fries were fine, though I'm not a big fan of steak fries. They actually tasted better when I dunked them in the tarter sauce. But I was very impressed with the veggies. Zucchini, mushrooms, onions, green beans, and bell peppers came out tasting vibrant with a lemon pepper flavor. Very good side dish.

From there, we drove back to TPC and the guard granted us access to the club. We drove past the private residences and traveled around a winding hill, passing flags of the winners of the tournament until we reached the clubhouse.

The clubhouse at Sawgrass reminded us of a Mediterranean villa with its rustic maroon and gold shades. And there was plenty of oak and mahogany wood as well. Really a classy picturesque place, but at least it didn't feel elitist or snobbish.

The woman working at the desk showed us amazing memorabilia. Old clubs, trophies, photos and paintings of famous scenes at TPC, photos of the course construction. Then she offered to give us a tour of holes 16 17 & 18. So we headed out with two other folks in a golf cart. The guy, who is black, knew zero about golf. We had to explain to him what a green was and what terms like par meant. I had no issue within not knowing them, I was just surprised he wad visiting this course and knew nothing about the sport.

The view behind the 18th teebox to the fairway, to the green, and then the clubhouse was just magnificent. But getting to see the famous 17th hole, the island green, was so amazing for me. I never imagined getting to walk there and when I did, well, it wasn't on my bucket list, but that course means a whole lot more to me now than 18 holes I can play on a video game.

Them we headed south on A1A into downtown St. Augustine for a quick drive by. With its Spanish architecture, tight alleys, and unique shops and restaurants, it reminded me of a combination between New Orleans and a seaside town in New England. I'm excited to explore the town more tomorrow.

We ended the night with a chicken parmesan pizza at Borillo's, a tiny NY style pizzeria that has a ton of Pittsburgh Steelers gear on its walls. The pizza tasted awesome and after being awake for maybe 16 hours, we headed to the Fairfield Inn near the outlet malls. We got there around 6:30 and I must say right now, it feels very good to be out of slacks and boots and instead to be in bed, wearing mesh shorts and barefoot.