Some like (to eat gelato when) it hot, starring Jack Lemongrass: Part One of the Trolley Tour

The girls and I took the trolley tour around San Diego where one can learn lots of interesting and relevant details about your host city. Like there are 109 varieties of palm trees planted in this, the 8th largest city in the United States. "I had no idea you were this into horticulture," Sydney whispered over my shoulder as I took note of the fascinating Naked Coral tree that we passed. "You'd think she'd be more into helping Dad garden," she said to her sister. Savannah shrugged.

We started out at the Seaport Village for a dockside perusal of The Midway. Savannah refused to let us tour the historic vessel. "Remember the Intrepid?" she frowned. Wow. Make fun of Savannah for two straight hours as she meticulously studies the piping system of a legendary aircraft carrier and get punished for eternity. Some people just can't let stuff go.

We paused to watch two ducks playing until we realized that they weren't playing. All set to a street performers haunting rendition of Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb. "I wish my life had a sound-track," I complained when the song (and everything else) was finished. We clapped and moved on.

In the spirit of NOT giving one's mother everything she wants and more, Sydney then refused to walk down to see the infamous Kissing Statue commemorating the end of World War II. "It's the principle of the thing," Sydney declared as we instead had our picture taken in front of the ship used in Pirates of the Caribbean as well as Master and Commander. "First of all...she wasn't a nurse, she was a dental hygienist..." I interrupted indignantly, "You weren't raised to discriminate, young lady...some of our best friends are dental hygienists (Hi Michelle!)" "That's not the point, Mom. That iconic photo, and now the statue, perpetuates a lie. Plus, our hometown hero," she grimaced in disgust, "our drunk returning warrior kissed a woman he didn't even know while his future wife stood twenty feet away. It's exploitative." I sighed. Moral indignation is exhausting.

We traversed the Coronado Bridge where I was delighted to learn that the same-named luxury hotel was the backdrop to the movie Some Like It Hot. I had my reservations (Ha! See what I did there?!?), waiting for a stern lecture from my daughters about the film's insensitively capitalizing on society's perceived concept of sexual norms for the sake of comedy. "Not at all," Sydney said, "Some Like It Hot is notable for challenging gender assumptions and Jack Lemmon is just plain funny." Savannah just looked confused as Syd and I skipped happily through the lobby. "I've never seen it," Savannah admitted while everyone in the building stopped in shock and stared at her.

She ushered us past the dessert shop, their display windows filled with the fluorescent colors of gelato. I'm not ashamed to say I begged. "I want to be able to tell everyone that I ate gelato on the veranda of the Hotel Coronado," I pleaded as she dragged me away. "We're going to Little Italy next," she said sternly, "It'll be just as good AND cheaper."

She distracted me with a meridian filled with fake grass. I'm a big fan. Built over a desert, San Diego carpets their city with fake grass. It fools no one. It's like a bad toupee. If I could market it, I would call it Turf Toupee. When I spotted some real grass, sickly-colored and limp, pushing its way pathetically to the surface along the edge of the turf toupee, I was overwhelmed with a sense of symbolism, irony, and hope. Interesting to think that that real grass would soon be plucked like a weed so as not to distract from the uniformity of the fake grass. We made Savannah take our picture on the fake grass but the angle emphasized my ten chins (That would be my name in Iroquois). With no turtleneck handy, I adjusted my sweatshirt but then we got to laughing so hard that Savannah couldn't get a good shot.
Plus my bangs shifted to the right, exposing ample advertising space on my forehead. End point: Just look at the fake grass and forget that I refused to wear my retainer as a kid.