Blastoff!

Good morning! I'm going on about seven hours of sleep total for the past three days. Jorge, too has been up for days and we are hoping to catch some decent shut-eye on the Ft. Lauderdale to Los Angeles leg of the trip.

My brother and his family came over to my parents' house for dinner last night and there was a lively discussion of wills. "Do you have one?" Uh, no. If there would be any survivors of an air disaster, which is what I presume they're concerned about, the kids get it all. "Ah, but who would get the kids?" Interesting question. I have an idea about that. I didn't share it, because I knew I'd piss someone, probably everyone, off. Like the relative who loudly joked several times, "I want the house on the island!" You are so not getting my kids. Next, prompted by that morbid exchange, my father shares the file on the family plot in San Francisco ("Still plenty of room out there!") Sure, stick me out there, whatever, it's probably the only time I'll ever get out to the Bay Area, and spending eternity on a hillside in San Francisco's high-priced real estate is not a bad way to go. Then my mother whips out her camera and tries to take a picture of me. Get that thing out of my seven-hours-of-sleep-in-three-days face. I know what was going on in the back of her mind... Just use my dental records, okay?

Give us a few days to settle in, snap a few pictures for the new blog, and when it's all prettied up, I'll be back to post the address for Road SCHOLA and catch you up with what's been going on.

See you on the other side of the world!