Vegas Vacation 3: Volleyball Gods − 10 May, 1999
All through breakfast at the Village Inn, my wife kept bringing up how I had once called it the "Village Inn Pancake House." Two points here: One, she's the only one that thought it was even remotely funny. Two, THAT'S WHAT IT SAID ON THE FUCKING SIGN!
It seemed like a long drive to Phoenix. The few radio stations we could get, sucked, and there was little conversation -- everyone but the driver (me) dozed on and off. We weren't half-way through the trip and we all had just about had our fill of driving.
Finally arriving in Phoenix, we met all the other family members at a Mexican restaurant for lunch. Let's see, there was the four of us, my wife's grandparents, great aunt, aunt, uncle, and three cousins. Oh, and her mom flew down from Colorado for Mother's Day.
We were an intimidating group.
The food was pretty good (wish I could remember the name of the place), but we didn't linger -- the road warriors wanted to park it for the day, and there was a pool at grandma and grandpa's.
At the trailer park, much more family chatting and catching up ensued. My brother-in-law's wife pulled out some clippers and trimmed his hair. For some reason, packing hair clippers on a road trip instead of just cutting your fucking hair before the trip didn't strike me as being odd at all. In fact, I jumped in the queue and got a trim myself.
Freshly shorn, we now needed something to do. I discovered my wife was in the trailer with grandma, surrounded by old photos scattered everywhere.
Fuck. She's going to be there a loooong time.
The rest of us grabbed our swimsuits and headed for the pool.
Much to our delight, they had a volleyball net strung up at one end of the pool and a small group of seniors were looking for another team to play. The few other seniors around the pool were content to just soak their feet or float at the far end.
The volleyball-playing seniors spotted us and called out for us to play a game. Restless from many long hours on the road, we took up the challenge -- we were even gracious enough to let them play us 5 to 3.
We then proceeded to beat the crap out of them. We took on anyone and everyone and we pummeled them. There's nothing like the feeling you get when you win an athletic contest against people 50-60 years older than you.
Sweet, sweet victory.
I'd like to think it was our youthful vigor and incredible skill that made us unbeatable. However, in hindsight, I believe we owed our success to the glare of the sun off my pasty white skin blinding our competitors. Because, honestly, I'm just not that good at volleyball.
Delivering a beat-down to your elders works up an appetite, and we ate well at my wife's aunt and uncle's place that night. Grilled steaks with all the fixings, ice-cold beer... oh, man!
Surprisingly, no one was too interested in staying up into the wee hours drinking, so we all settled in for the night. My brother-in-law and his wife stayed in grandma and grandpa's trailer.
I was a bit miffed about that. My wife and I went to stay in great aunt Ceedy's trailer down the street for the night.
When we got to Ceedy's trailer, I was no longer miffed. It was a bigger, newer trailer, and we had a mattress to sleep on. Oh, I'm rubbing that in my brother-in-law's face in the morning...
Since retirement, Ceedy became quite the world traveler, and we stayed up for a while looking at her travel photos and talking about the places she had been.
Before drifting off to sleep, my wife and I shared a look: we weren't going to wait until retirement to travel.
That look also relayed the sentiment that "traveling" did not necessarily mean another road trip to Vegas.
It seemed like a long drive to Phoenix. The few radio stations we could get, sucked, and there was little conversation -- everyone but the driver (me) dozed on and off. We weren't half-way through the trip and we all had just about had our fill of driving.
Finally arriving in Phoenix, we met all the other family members at a Mexican restaurant for lunch. Let's see, there was the four of us, my wife's grandparents, great aunt, aunt, uncle, and three cousins. Oh, and her mom flew down from Colorado for Mother's Day.
We were an intimidating group.
The food was pretty good (wish I could remember the name of the place), but we didn't linger -- the road warriors wanted to park it for the day, and there was a pool at grandma and grandpa's.
At the trailer park, much more family chatting and catching up ensued. My brother-in-law's wife pulled out some clippers and trimmed his hair. For some reason, packing hair clippers on a road trip instead of just cutting your fucking hair before the trip didn't strike me as being odd at all. In fact, I jumped in the queue and got a trim myself.
Freshly shorn, we now needed something to do. I discovered my wife was in the trailer with grandma, surrounded by old photos scattered everywhere.
Fuck. She's going to be there a loooong time.
The rest of us grabbed our swimsuits and headed for the pool.
Much to our delight, they had a volleyball net strung up at one end of the pool and a small group of seniors were looking for another team to play. The few other seniors around the pool were content to just soak their feet or float at the far end.
The volleyball-playing seniors spotted us and called out for us to play a game. Restless from many long hours on the road, we took up the challenge -- we were even gracious enough to let them play us 5 to 3.
We then proceeded to beat the crap out of them. We took on anyone and everyone and we pummeled them. There's nothing like the feeling you get when you win an athletic contest against people 50-60 years older than you.
Sweet, sweet victory.
I'd like to think it was our youthful vigor and incredible skill that made us unbeatable. However, in hindsight, I believe we owed our success to the glare of the sun off my pasty white skin blinding our competitors. Because, honestly, I'm just not that good at volleyball.
Delivering a beat-down to your elders works up an appetite, and we ate well at my wife's aunt and uncle's place that night. Grilled steaks with all the fixings, ice-cold beer... oh, man!
Surprisingly, no one was too interested in staying up into the wee hours drinking, so we all settled in for the night. My brother-in-law and his wife stayed in grandma and grandpa's trailer.
I was a bit miffed about that. My wife and I went to stay in great aunt Ceedy's trailer down the street for the night.
When we got to Ceedy's trailer, I was no longer miffed. It was a bigger, newer trailer, and we had a mattress to sleep on. Oh, I'm rubbing that in my brother-in-law's face in the morning...
Since retirement, Ceedy became quite the world traveler, and we stayed up for a while looking at her travel photos and talking about the places she had been.
Before drifting off to sleep, my wife and I shared a look: we weren't going to wait until retirement to travel.
That look also relayed the sentiment that "traveling" did not necessarily mean another road trip to Vegas.
roadwarriors in phoenix
