Picture a 31 foot motor home…err…”coach” with an attached 21 foot boat on a trailer a few feet longer. Luckily, I don’t have to drive the thing. But it means that any day-to-day activity, say, going to eat, becomes a bit of an ordeal. That and there are five people to satisfy.

Anyway, we end up at this restaurant that we had gone to on our previous sojurn to Lake Havasu City, and we get this nice waitress who has a day job of teaching fourth graders and spends nights waiting tables. And on the television, which I’ve decided I have to start calling the “telly,” there is this karate match. Two people, a kid and an adult man, swing little sickles around and do all kinds of cool flips. They finish and leave me in awe, then a girl and a boy come up to do another routine with staffs. Which leads to an exchange that slightly demonstrates my wit and that I shall therefore record in perpetuity here on my shrine of narcissism.

Danny: “What a nice story. Boy meets girl, boy attacks girl with stick, girl beats up boy, everyone is happy.”
Stu: “It looks like Iron Chef.”
Danny: “Yeah. Iron Chef Kung Fu versus Iron Chef Jujitsu…your mystery ingredient – a wooden stick. Begin!”
Jessica: “That’s not very funny.”
Danny: “Sure it is. I think I’ll put it on my blog.”
etc.