I’m in San Diego, my hometown, today. I always love returning to this city. Though northern California winters can’t possibly be described as as bad- not, at least, when places like Wisconsin and Minnesota are discussed- it’s still nice to have left the chilly winter behind. Unless you’re in Mexico, or possibly Australia, it’s always a safe bet that the weather is far nicer in San Diego. It was a shirtsleeve-comfortable 70°F today, in this, my beautiful city.

The trip didn’t start off auspiciously. My wife struggled to keep a very active two-year old in check at the airport while I made two shuttle-bus trips to the cheapskate parking lot some light-years distant from the terminal, since I’d completely forgotten to offload the kids’ car seats when I dropped them off. She then forgot that there was a small pocketknife in her purse, and I stood there goggling as she proceeded to to make several snide, cynical, and curt remarks to the courteous, patient TSA guard who waited for us to decide what to do with the offending article. Since the object in question had once belonged to my grandfather, I decided we should mail it back to our own house from the airport, and saddled her with the task. I don’t think this made her any happier, but there was no lasting fallout.

The flight itself was uneventful, unless you count turbulence rough enough to bounce the ice cubes out of my complimentary cup of apple juice. It’s always a thrill to experience, firsthand, 88,312 pounds of glass, rubber, plastic, and aluminum getting tossed around the sky like a footbag, then suddenly feel yourself momentarily in free-fall. Though I love flying, it’s still disconcerting.

Upon landing, we immediately performed our ritual of visiting what is, perhaps, the best Mexican restaurant in California (which is saying something): El Indio. It’s an institution down there, and, frankly, if you leave the place not liking it, you’re wrong. Anyplace you can watch your tortillas being made is a good one. We sated our craving for taquitos, carne asada and some of the best salsa anywhere, then headed out to our true destination, the suburban sprawl of Escondido.