Mark’s Bloomin’ Journal

A recent WSJ article focused on the increasing frequency of children accompanying a parent on business trips. I for one, attempt to rope in one or other of my children on business trips as I really enjoy their company, it is an invaluable opportunity to have conversations otherwise never broached, it reinforces the understanding that money really does not grow on trees and at the same time as I formulate views and opinions on what I see and hear I can bank on the unvarnished insite of a party with a vested interest and refreshing point of view. All this over dinner in some far flung spot when eating alone is so obviously not what I wish or enjoy.

As one young man leaves the nest with almost a million miles of business/pleasure travel racked up with me and becomes less available for such trips I have another who just might traipse around with me for the next four years. I recently spun him around the globe using a portion of Spring Break and a few days off school with teachers blessing to visit Coastal California farms via a good old fashioned road trip from the Oregon line down to San Francisco Bay and then after a brief respite onto one of Delta Airlines arduous middle seat trips to the equator in order to view rose production and witness the creation of Flowerbud bouquets. So far so good. He has flourished, made new friends, learned a great deal and has much to take forward with him re the diversity of the planet, its populations and their particular coping strategies.

What else do you need for a road trip other than a pile of Harry Potter’s to re-read, an assortment of junk food and some truly awful music with which to drive your father around the bend? Anybody ever heard of “Modest Mouse” ? Life is good (Dorito flavored) as the first 400 miles unfold to reveal the power of Pacific swells eroding the coastline and the intricate, interlaced crowns of Redwood trees as viewed with craned neck through the sunroof, all as the sun bleeds away into the ocean. The eventual reward being a no frills hojo’s motel…with a pool I am too tired to swim in.

As always at age 14 the morning comes way too fast and the option to not learn about Tulips and Lilies and Hyacinths isn’t on the table.Neither is breakfast! The first chore being to take a very dusty inventory of pallets and pallets of boxes and vases while all others seem to stand around and talk. This is followed by an in-depth tour of growing and packing areas where electronic counters tabulate tulips by the billion and robot arms stamp barcodes onto cellophane sleeves. This is followed by way too long a visit to the coolers which in my opinion are cold, not cool! Our guide, Kiah may well be dressed for winter but I am in shorts! There is talking and more talking. Head shaking and head nodding, signs of approval and grunts of dissatisfaction. Just as I think I can see the open road again we actually sit down to discuss business and the state of the industry. I already know that the ice caps will have melted by the time we get out of here!

Freedom at last ! Hunger has overtaken any chance of my being impressed by the floral frenzy and the interminable gamesmanship of business, fortunately there is a lovely little harbor, with an equally nice restaurant where I can watch the maneuvering of a dredge as I eat and listen to plans of the route to be taken to Santa Rosa. It is begining to sound incredibly touristy, apparently for my benefit. The Eel River and the Avenue of the Giants really are impressive and very beautiful and it is fun to stop and wander aimlessly around beneath these giants trees. Why can’t I take a turn at driving? I can’t believe it when we do a U turn at Liggett and pay $5 to drive our car THROUGH a Redwood tree.

Something about childhood dreams and having seen such in National Geographic magazines as a child in far away places. My observation is they need to grow a bigger tree or we need a smaller car because this maneuver pretty much bonds car with tree. Not a bad T shirt however. The big trees give way to smaller ones and even those eventualy diminish to grapevines. Please tell me there is a pool in Santa Rosa at the end of this winding road depicted on the GPS. There is! Too bad someone didn’t care to turn the heater on in the pool or in the spa. At least the mattress and pillows are fantastic and the rooster outside in the morning is an entertaining if unwelcome detail.

Alcatraz…my thoughts revolve around Alcatraz and the boat ride and subsequent tour I will take as we head south on a cool and brilliantly sunny Marin county morning. First stop is Mill Valley for breakfast amongst milling mothers pushing luxury strollers as if they were weapons and legions of wannabe Lance Armstrongs feeding their faces in preparation for an assault on Mt Tam, the Marin headlands and Stinson Beach. Are they nuts? Alcatraz, can’t we just go to Alcatraz? Not even the Golden Gate, which I still have not glimpsed? Oh no, first off we have to do the whole nature thing and view the world from atop Mt Tam which of course involves getting out of the car and walking. I must say that the view was rather spectacular and I gained my first views of the city by the bay, the bridges and of course Alcatraz. The picnic afterwards at Stinson was pretty good also. Crossing the Golden Gate was a thrill as is walking its full length there and back, peering over the edge as sealions and container vessels vye for the channel and push against the current. It seems like the whole world is present on the bridge, not just in the numbers jostling by but in nationalities only guessed at and languages overheard. If bridges indeed join points and people together then this one reigns supreme.

I can’t hide the dissapointment as we read the sign saying Alcatraz tours are booked solid for the following three days. For a place supposedly impossible to get off, it is proving equally as difficult to get onto. That stinks! So do the bums that seem to inhabit this wharf/pier area in large numbers. My dissapointment has me just a little soured on SF at this point and will only be repaired as it turns out, by eating the most delicious and perfectly cooked pasta at the Nob Hill cafe, where just being the two of us leads to an immediate sitting. Life is looking up and once again the mattress and pillows are noteworthy as I dream of quick drive bys of all the major sports stadiums within a few miles of me.

Coit Tower gets wedged in between stadium photo ops in both San Francisco and Oakland and it becomes very apparent why China town is in fact called China town. This is early Sunday morning and the streets are teaming with people of Chinese extraction. If there is a non Chinese tourist on the street they are invisible! We eventually exit the bay area via the Golden Gate again as I can’t get enough of it and by the time we struggle to find a breakfast/lunch spot in Sausalito not requiring an hour or so’s wait it is afternoon and we have more than 600 homeward miles to tick off. Nothing that another Harry Potter, Modest Mouse and a bag or two of sour skittles can’t overcome. Occasionaly I lift my head to see the delta around Sacramento, the grandeur of Lake and Mt Shasta dotted with the bright pink puffs of the Western Redbuds. Ashland, Medford, Eugene, Salem…another snippet of conversation, another chapter of a book as the light fades. This traveling on business with your father isn’t all that bad after all and a day or two few off school might be a real bonus. To be Cont….

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 3rd, 2007 at 1:52 pm and is filed under Flowerbud, Business, Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.