Chargers to Powerless

My parents flew out to San Diego to watch their Baltimore Ravens challenge the San Diego Chargers. As is custom when they visit my aunt and uncle down south and can't make it up to LA, Liz and I drove down to see everyone. As also is often custom, we ended up drinking a lot of wine.

As a hangover headache ripped through my skull on Sunday morning, I was reminded that at some point several glasses into wine the night before, I challenged my father to an underwater breath-holding contest in the waterfall hot tub.

It was a sorry, painful loss, as I--a non-smoker my entire life--gasped for air while the chain-smoking old fella stayed under.  Such was the shock of losing, that I went ahead and challenged two more times--losing again and again.  I've never much liked to be in the water anyway.  I can probably count the number of times I've been fully submerged in a pool during the last decade on a single hand.  But that's no excuse. It was a terrible embarrassing loss.

So at 7AM, with that biting headache, I'm reminded that I agreed we would join everyone at their tailgate party in the parking lot of Qualcomm Stadium where we would share in some revelry and I would declare to the crowd how awesome dad is.  Less than two-and-a-half hours later, there we were...drinking mimosas...under the sun.  The very, very bright and hot sun.

It was admittedly nice to see everyone for a bit longer. (Including my cousin--briefly at home from Army training all summer before shipping off to Kansas in a few days)  And the headache eventually went away.   By 1PM, the football fans made a run for the gates and Liz and I made a drive for the exit--navigating an ocean of lightning bolts along the way.

Unfortunately, after nearly four hours in the sun with little shade we weren't feeling all that well and it's quite possible Liz had sun poisoning.  The temps read about 85 when we left--but that sun felt as hot as the desert sun on a coachella afternoon.  (Of course this is a complaint coming from the guy who couldn't stay underwater a few seconds longer than his father.)

We stop for lunch (BJs sucks, btw) and got back to the house quicker than our traffic-slowed trek to San Diego 24-hours earlier.  Turn down the street and this workman in a orange vest is setting up a "road closed ahead" sign.  Strange. Never seen them start construction on a Sunday before.  Pull up to the garage and hit the button on the rearview.  Nothing.. Doesn't open.   OK...   I get out and turn the key at door.  Nothing.  Hmmm.  Power must be out.

Head inside and suspicions are proven correct.  No power.  With a little investigation, we track down details...by the time we got home at 4, it had already been off about eight hours and restoration wasn't expected until some time early Monday morning.  Liz passed out in the bed almost immediately--still exhausted from the night before and sun drenched morning.

I'm too tired to go visit friends and too sun drained to hit the beach. So I grab my laptop and collapse into a chair. Maybe I can do some writing.  Open it and...the battery is dead.  OK...this is going to suck.  More to come...