At an incredibly early hour, the Goof clan got up, drove to the airport, stumbled through security, entered an airplane,watched Thor (not bad for a stupid movie watched on an airplane in the wee small hours), and got off the airplane in Los Angeles, California.
Los abuelos live in LA and we come out here all the time. As soon as my biorhythms sync to West Coast time I'll be blogging and tweeting (follow @fathergoof) about our adventures. But in the meantime, enjoy some missives from our past junkets in the Southland.
Severely directionally challenged I bought a GPS to get around this endless sprawling city, but every solution creates its own problems.
Like a Russian oligarch, MamaGoof loves savings the money, so much so that on one of our trips we used an off-brand car rental, although MamaGoof turned down the opportunity to cruise the freeways in a refrigerated truck.
We often spend Christmas in LA, but being Jewish we go to the movies, but first I made the little Goofs climb Mount Hollywood.
We had to take the little Goofs to LA's La Brea Tarpits, although my jokes about tossing them in took some of the wonder out of the occasion.
When traveling, MamaGoof and I have to split up and share beds with the kids, sleepy little people occupy astounding amounts of space, fortunately we found a solution.
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