Terrible Analogies

This past weekend saw us playing host to Karin’s brother and his girlfriend Liz, who we took to the San Diego Wild Animal Park (or as they’d rather now be called “San Diego Zoo Safari Park”) on Saturday.  We were lucky enough to get to the Lion exhibit at noon when they open the cage door to feed the lions by hand.  If you get there on time you can position yourself roughly five feet from the wire-lattice doors and feel the vibrations from the lions as they purr while chowing down on raw meat.

On Monday we met my sister and her husband at the park, then showed them Queen Califia’s Magical Circle.  This hidden treasure of Escondido is tucked away at the back of Kit Carson Park behind the duck pond, and is well worth the quick walk to visit.  Tyler and his cousin Rowan had a great time exploring:

Welcome to the 143rd Running Of The Bryant Park Stakes:

Working a bit of overtime a couple of weeks ago, I was trapped inside on a beautiful Saturday afternoon staring at a computer screen, working on my fluorescent tan in cubicle hell, asking myself who I could have possibly offended in a previous lifetime to have earned this dubious position in life. Finally, after many hours of carefully treading that fine line between numbing boredom and maniacal rage, I let out a muffled, desperate huff, threw my hands above my head, stood up and stomped my way out of the office to grab a breath of fresh air.

Spying an inviting bench on the far side of the lawn, I thought I’d sit for a spell and take in a few minutes of scenery that this carefully position piece of cement future must offer.  I mean, why else was it placed there if not to offer a key vantage point to a vast expanse that showcases the meshing of man and his environment?

Taking a seat, I let out a slight sigh of relief from the pressures of my daily duties.  Anxious to unwind I looked up, expecting to be awed and humbled by a scenic vista spreading out before me, but instead I was greeted with this sad sight:

Hmmm, not exactly what I was hoping for.  Standing up and moving three feet to my left revealed the panorama I had been expecting to see:

I swear, next weekend I’m bringing my own hedge trimmers…

Whelp, tonight wraps up our grand tour of Wisconsin.  The wife has successfully caught up with friends and family, and as we head back to sunny San Diego we’re left with the feeling that we’ll be missing all of the kind, honest people we’ve seen this past week.  The suitcases are packed up, the alarm is set for 4am, and the plane tickets are at the ready.  

And so, with a fond “farewell”, we bid adieu to Widmer’s Cheese factory (awesome cheese!),

Dr. Myerson’s teeth,

the John Deere factory,

the never ending fields of corn and soy beans,

Amish literature,

and last, but not least, this orange moose:

That, in a nutshell my friends, is Wisconsin.

Today we traversed the wilds of Wisconsin, barreling through the invisible border into Minnesota at 85 per, eventually skidding to a stop in the parking lot of the jewel of the midwest…the Mall Of America.

Anxious to see what this side of the country considers their Disneyland, their Taj Majal, their very Mecca itself, we braced ourselves for close contact with NASCAR aficionados, recent Favre converts, and rugged ranch hand farmers.  Oddly enough, contrary to our misguided preconceived big-city notions, we had a great time.

I’ve heard a lot about the Mall Of America, and wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to travel a scant five hours via car to take bask in its capitalistic glory.

Upon first entering this uniquely American mosque, we found ourselves swimming in a sea of rabid scrap bookers queued up by the hundreds, each hoping to secure a spot in a seminar being hosted by the Home Shopping Channel.  While the women were standing in various lines waiting to take part in either scrap booking classes or partake in scrap booking business transactions, the husbands were busy doing this:

Poor guys.  I sympathize.  Soldier on, brothers…  

But, after making our way past this madness, rounding a few corners, and valiantly avoiding the Orange Julius stand (mmmm….Orange Julius!), we were greeted with the main attraction of this particular mall (click to embiggen):

The central amusement park!  Like a overactive child fresh off his meds and flying high on a can of Coke and two bowls of Lucky Charms, I broke free and headed straight for the ride that had the most screaming:

The Rock Bottom Plunge offers a 90º free-fall drop, speeding into a tight loop, over various twists and turns, and straight into my palpitating heart.  This, the Avatar Airbender ride, and the Fairly Odd Coaster were the big “E” ticket rides, and the wait for each was mere minutes.  

The Flying Dutchman, guarding his towering wall climbing attraction.

After taking in the rides, if you’re feeling the romantic urge to get married, there’s a chapel on the grounds that provides just such a service:

And so, with the power of 20/20 hindsight, if I had to give the Mall Of America a rating of 1-10, I’d have to give it a solid ‘B’.  I feel sorry for the families who make this hive of activity their vacation destination.  But for the curious and the bored, the Mall Of America offers enough distractions to fill an afternoon.