Photographically, I focused mostly on the drive through Nevada this time, which is through an otherworldly beautiful part of the desert where there is literally nobody around for hundreds of miles. So spectacular and incredibly relaxing.

There’s also some good shots from my hike to Titus Lake with my dad. For two people whose combined age is 100 and who have two good legs between us, we did pretty damn well.

Photos are from my D50, but a bunch of fun ones from the iPhone mixed in. If the slideshow below doesn’t feel like cooperating, the set is here on Flickr.

I went fishing with my dad today, and he did really well. He caught five fish: two HUGE cutthroat trout, two good-sized rainbows, and a pretty decent-sized brook trout.

I, on the other hand…I hooked one fish myself. Well, hooked might not be the right word. I had a little rainbow that was maybe five or six inches long bite on my fly, and I yanked the hook to set it.

Except I apparently yanked a little too hard for a fish that small, because this poor fish went FLYING out of the water, at least 10 yards onto the bank, and right next to the surprised and very amused guide.

The guide was nice enough to put what I’m sure was a very confused fish back in the water. His friends will never believe the story he tells: “My god, I saw giants!”

I went horseback riding today with my camera, the pictures that were not completely blurry are now up on Flickr. Western-style riding is ideal for this, since you only need to keep one hand on the reins at all times, instead of both (as you do when you ride English-style).

However, it is not ideal when your horse randomly decides to break into a trot coming down a hill and you have to try and pull hard enough to stop him with just one hand because the other holds your very expensive camera. That was fun.

By the way, remember how I said I was going out with the Old Fart Bike Brigade 2: Electric Jewgaloo? They’re in way better shape than the Atlanta crowd. I got totally dusted by four guys over the age of seventy biking up a looooong but gentle incline.

They even managed to go up one hell of a steep hill at the end. I took one look at the hill and said, “This is No Country For Young Whippersnappers.” My dad and one other guy agreed with me, and all three of us felt really old.

Went for a little ride with the Old Fart Bike Brigade: Atlanta Edition today. And when I say “a little ride”, I mean this nice 28 mile loop. I’m a little tired now. 

While I did manage to do better than my dad (in his defense, he’s almost 72 and I’m 27), I was slightly dismayed to find that I was huffing and puffing to keep pace with a barely-breaking-a-sweat 65 year old prostate cancer patient.

I’m in better shape than I was, but I apparently still have a ways to go. We’ll see how I hold up Wednesday with Old Fart Bike Brigade 2: Electric Jewgaloo (aka the Wood River Jewish Community ride).

Vegas was a good news, bad news situation.

The bad news was that I lost $15 playing Roulette, because I never fucking remember that you have to have at least $100 to win squat at Roulette until I drop at least $10 in the frame of three minutes.

The good news was that I turned around and turned $20 into $60 off a blackjack-dealing Elvis impersonator. My mother was so proud when I told her (she, as you may or may not recall, is an insane Elvis fan).

The bad news was that I somehow managed to not notice that the ticket I’d bought to The Dark Knight was to a 35mm show, not an IMAX show, and the bulb on the projector was clearly on its last legs as well.

The good news was that The Dark Knight was still so unbelievably, jaw-droppingly fantastic that now I’m happy I have an excuse to see it again, and in even more brain-meltingly awesome IMAX.

Anyway, I meandered up here to Sun Valley on Friday, and then have been enjoying showing my dad and stepmom my new personality as an insane exercise addict.

I did 2500 meters in the pool and a six mile bike ride. Well, really, a three mile downhill cruise and a three mile lung-punishing climb, to be more accurate. Actually, both bits were pretty lung-punishing, as I’d forgotten how much thinner the air is here than in L.A.

I also have a nice little strip of sunburn right above my left eyebrow to show for my troubles, in the space between the top of the eyebrow and the bottom of my swim cap. Let me tell you, it is an attractive look.

But my level of relaxation is reaching critical mass. Tomorrow’s plan includes a four mile walk, more swimming, and a screening of Mamma Mia. The latter was my stepmom’s idea, as my feelings on that musical/film are well summed up by a quote from the movie The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert:

“NO MORE BLOODY ABBA!”

I’m unemployed and gas costs $4.60 a gallon, so what better time is there to take a road trip to Idaho to see my dad?

Actually, I’m road-tripping for three reasons:

1. Changeable plane tickets are expensive, even more so than the gas to get the 861 miles between here and Sun Valley.
2. You could not pay me to fly into the itty bitty airport in Sun Valley in an itty bitty plane that has to nose-dive between GIANT mountains to land, and the closest normal airports are Boise (2.5 hour drive) and Salt Lake City (5 hour drive).
3. Given the general hassle that flying has become over the last few years, for a trip of less than 1,000 miles, I’d really rather drive if I have the time.

So tonight, I’m stopping in Vegas and, per my Evil Plot, going to see The Dark Knight in IMAX. Then I’ll get up and drive the rest of the way to Sun Valley, and all will be well.

Tales of fishing, biking, swimming, relaxing, and possibly hiking and rafting if my foot decides to cooperate, to come.

I think I’ve figured out how to land myself a job interview next Friday.

This theory came to me as I was waiting for my Chinese food for an hour and 15 minutes. I really had to pee, but I just KNEW the guy was going to come while I was in the bathroom.

Sure enough, I said “Oh the hell with this, I’m not waiting any longer,” and the guy came while I was in the bathroom.

This always happens to me: I wait and wait for what’s supposed to happen to happen, and then when it doesn’t, I start doing something else, and THEN what was supposed to happen happens.

Working from this trend, I’ve come up with a plan to have at the very least, a job interview by the end of next week.

My job finishes this Friday, and I had been planning (barring a sudden settlement with SAG) to try and leave town next Thursday for about a week and a half to visit my dad up in Idaho. I’ll be driving, so I’ll be stopping in Vegas on the way up next Thursday if all goes to plan.

I knew Dark Knight was coming out next Friday, and I really want to see it in IMAX, since they actually shot some of it in IMAX and I hear it’s brain-meltingly awesome.

So of course, I got online to see if there are tickets to the midnight IMAX screening in Vegas (and I’d like to pause here to note that IMAX tickets in Vegas are cheaper than regular movie tickets here), and there were.

So now, my evil plot: I bought my ticket to that midnight Thursday showing in Vegas.

By purchasing that ticket, I have close to guaranteed that something will come up in L.A. and I won’t be able to leave until Friday or Saturday, maybe not even at all.

Clearly, as I’m packing my shit into the car to leave on Thursday morning, I will get a phone call from someone who wants to interview me Friday morning, maybe even for a job that starts Monday.

And if my frustrating luck does not continue to hold…Well, I’ll get to see the Dark Knight in IMAX on opening night then spend a week in Idaho with my dad. It’s pretty much a win-win.

Please enjoy these photos of my father and stepmother’s tour of the “Five ‘Stans”: Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, and Tajikistan.

Dad’s still figuring out how Flickr works, so his captions (which contain a fair bit of historical context for what you’re looking at) are actually posted as comments. Although some of the comments, like this one, are courtesy of Ray Ann.

Total elapsed time from the beginning of my first conversation with my father about getting laid off to his first mention of how I should go to Law school: Under five minutes.

Total number of times I slowly and clearly repeated to him, “I am not going to Law school” during the same conversation: At least ten.

…is trying to explain to my 70 year old father why this sign in Sun Valley cracks me up.