flipped a coin, and ended up in anaheim saturday morning. arrived before the club again, and vendors, even. was almost convinced there was no show, as there was zero activity, no roping off the lot, nothing on the marquee, and no one except a random guy pedaling around on a bike. was already warm, and the sun had barely come up. at least there was a small breeze.

then i saw this one drive by, and soon another. and another. good good.

got my gear out and got to work. the day was going to be hot, and i knew i wouldn’t stay long. and i hadn’t had breakfast yet. saw raynbow, who always welcomes me.

the viejitos cars park along this fence, at the entrance. they were hanging up framed t-shirts from past years’ shows and events. as a designer, i found that interesting.

i don’t recall seeing this dodge anywhere. almost as if it had rolled off the line brand new, save for some chipped paint here and there..

past years, the lot would have been packed by eight. i do not understand the machinations of where the cars go, but i do know when several big shows are on the same day, you take your chances.

no matter, plenty for me to shoot before the sun got me.

when it looked like the incoming cars had slowed, and my skin was starting to turn pink in spite of the suntan lotion, i packed it in, and headed to breakfast.

was my dad's birthday yesterday. he's as old as this car, but hasn't aged as well.

for whatever reason, he had his mind made up to go have dinner at red lobster. fine. but he would only go to the one in brea, though there are a couple that are closer to home.

he claims that the chef and service at that one is the best. at his age, it is hard to argue any other opinion except for his on anything.

well, like hell i ever let him drive us anywhere when i'm there, but he knows that. if i hadn't gone to their house, he would have driven my mom out to dinner. i don't even want to think of that white knuckle ride...he drives his soccer mom van like it's his old porsche.

anyway, i wasn't looking forward to more driving. i'd hoped it would be just simple dinner, cake, then sleep early...i'm so tired. after his insistence on going to brea, at near the end of rush hour, i knew it would be stop and go traffic. i was going to take the canyon, just as long, but at least i'd be moving, but he said no, he wanted to go the freeway.

so an hour and a half later, we made it to the restaurant. he orders a dozen raw oysters, followed by some shrimp dish and salad, and something else i don't remember. my mom orders shrimp linguini. i get some dungeness crab legs and a cup of clam chowder. was late, i was tired, not hungry anymore.

they were happy with their food. mine was sort of not hot, for the crab, that didn't matter so much, but the soup was only lukewarm. meh.

after the journey out there because the chef is the 'best,' my dad says the best part of the meal was the oysters. the raw, uncooked oysters. so much for the chef. shucks.

and just before they bring the check, my mom mentions that it was his birthday. that is followed by a small crew of wait staff singing the song, and a plate with a ball of ice cream for him. nice, but since they were basically trying to close and get us to leave, it was a pretty weak display. i'm sure they have to do that all day, every day, so i don't blame them for it.

back to their house, hoping the angels game hasn't let out, which it hadn't, so thank the stars for not getting stuck in that post game traffic. so tired when we got home. i guess he was happy, and who knows how many he has left, so i was glad i went, in spite of all my inner mental bitching.

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