Remembering the good times makes me laugh, yeah yeah

So there are two versions to this blog, the short and the long. I will start with the short, and if that is all you want, then stop reading.

SHORT STORY:
We are going to Palm Springs for the weekend to celebrate my birthday.

LONG STORY:
The first time I lived in CA (not the first time with Ken, but the first time ever) I was about Michael's age. We lived in Huntington Beach. My dad, who is quite a bit like Ken, liked us to "experience" the places we lived, so he took us for day trips here and there. He took us to a taping of a TV show, he took us the World Series, we went to Disneyland a bunch of times. He's a good guy. Anyway, for some reason or another he decided (business I think) that we needed to go to Palm Springs. It was just Dad, Mom and me. I was a typical teenager and was sure it would be boring. We met some people at a resort (probably the same one Ken and I are staying at, since it is advertised as one of the oldest resorts in the area.) I was in my cute little bikini enjoying the pool (yes, I could wear a bikini back then and not make people want to throw up.) I did notice that the age bracket for guests at this particular resort was a little on the "old" side. My mom and dad even looked young compared with these people. Now, to really get the feel for this story, you will need to go all the way back, back to the late 70's. All of the water toys & equipment we are familiar with were not even a glimmer in the inventors eye. Back when flip flops were thongs and I looked OK in a bikini. So we are sitting at a pool side table enjoying a riveting (boring) conversation and I was people (old people) watching. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something odd. A gentleman was walking around the pool deck in his bedroom slippers. OK, so maybe the concrete was hot. But then, he just walked right into the pool, slippers and all! I tried to get someone's attention. I knew my mom would think this was as hysterical as I did. End of story, I finally interrupted the "adult" conversation and blurted out, loud enough for everyone (even the old man now in the pool with slippers on,) "Look at that crazy old man wearing slippers in the pool!" Now, this is probably the inventor of water socks, and he has left his children and grandchildren millions in inheritance, but, at the time, I thought he was just a crazy old man.

END OF LONG STORY:
Ken and I are going to Palm Springs for the weekend to celebrate my birthday. Hope Ken doesn't wear his slippers into the pool.