La Dolce Vita

Eyeballs really can pop out of one’s head. But I’m getting ahead of my story.

We have just returned from a six week vacation from winter. Southern California was warm and sunny for 5 of those weeks and we sopped it up. My Puritan DNA was put on hold and, as Agnes Gooch in the movie Auntie Mame declared, “We lived!”

My husband and I decided to rent a furnished apartment from one of the many Irvine Company complexes. We chose the place where hubby suffered a sun burnt tongue. Actually the tongue had a couple of years to heal because we first looked at the model apartments a while ago. How did his tongue get burned you wonder?

The address of the Rental Office was a bit vague. We turned into the Villas, parked, and headed for what we thought was the main office. Quickly we realized our mistake. This was one of the apartment complexes and we needed to go across the street. I got back into the car, expecting to see hubby follow. He wasn’t there. It seems that he was struck dumb, mouth open and tongue hanging, watching the ladies at the pool. “Just wondering where all the men were” was his lame excuse.

Eventually we made it to the correct office and gathered brochures and information. This winter those brochures became reality. We returned to the scene of the sunburn to take possession of our two bedroom fully furnished apartment.

Our Dolce Vita was about to begin. After settling in, we headed for the beach. Driving down PCH (that’s Pacific Coast Highway 1 to you), we dodged three yellow Lamborghinis*. Yellow’s such a flashy color! Actually the laid back hues on the several Jaguars* and Mercedes* were more to my taste. Our modest rental car boasted Oregon plates so those Lamborghinis could just suck it up.

We quickly began to acclimate to the California Lifestyle. Nearly everyday we walked the “Mountains to the Sea” bike/hike trail that runs along the San Diego Creek part of the way to its destinations. How we envied those spandex* clad bikers with their speed bikes and classy helmets. We could only hope to emulate the hikers, joggers, and dog walkers.

Hubby walks a bit slower than I do but usually manages to keep within 50 feet of my lead. He enjoyed our walks but knew he had made it to Nirvana on our last walk. As we neared the end of our daily route we saw a hand-holding couple on roller blades coming towards us. The grey haired, 60+ gentleman looked fit in his head to toe black spandex and helmet. His lovely companion, cum “trophy wife,” was a blond goddess in her equally tight black outfit and Lamborghini stylish head gear. Hand and hand they skated past me and then past hubby.

When a decent interval had passed, I signaled two thumbs up. I dared not turn back; no man wants his wife to see him drooling all over his Nike's*. Unfortunately hubby missed the signal. His eyeballs had popped right out of his head and they were rolling into the Creek bed. Or maybe he was a lot closer than 50 feet… La Dolce Vita indeed.

*Note: Lamborghini, Jaguar, Mercedes, spandex (aka Lycra), and Nike are all registered trademarks of the following companies--in order--Automobili Lamborghini SpA, Jaguar Land Rover North America LLC, Mercedes-Benz USA LLC, INVISTA, and Nike, Inc.