Tra and Glenn Make Ten.

I want him in my family

akoptiontrader — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 06:42:03 +0000

Okay, judging by the emails, comments, notes, blog hits and responses, the people who read this blog are a bunch of sick freaks that enjoy others misfortunes. So I guess I am in good company. I must humbly admit that I too am ailed by that affliction. Perhaps it is because subliminally, deep inside, we are so stinking happy that it wasn’t us busting a move and then busting our face. Perhaps that chuckle or chortle, in some cases (such as my wife), is a nervous release of energy, a laugh of relief if you will. Or maybe it is just blasted funny seeing people fall. Either way, it was a popular post so I am obligated to do something similar once again. So if you don’t like it, don’t blame me as it is your fault, I’m conservative, supply and demand you know.

This one was discovered by my wife, and if you recall, kids are not immune. This is not our kid, but it is a kid, and although she is not in physical pain, she is in deep emotional pain. You will get the gist of the video in the first minute, but it is worthwhile to watch until the end. I see some very challenging teen years in her future. I also predict that sometime during the video Niki will say “awww”.

It’s a safety dance

akoptiontrader — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 06:16:22 +0000

This post is in honor of my wife, as it is almost her birthday. To me, she is as perfect as a woman could be. She does, however, have one flaw that I am going to share with God and our blog followers. This flaw is not that big of deal, most of the time, but it can make me angry sometimes, and embarrass me other times. I don’t think she will ever get over it, and I love her in spite of it. It rears its ugly head at the most inopportune times, and yet I think it is pretty much uncontrollable. Have you guessed? Her flaw is that she loves to laugh at other peoples pain. Now I am not talking about kidney stone, root canal type pain. I am talking about people trying to be cool, or just minding their own business and falling, or getting hurt unexpectedly type of pain. When she sees it, she bursts out in laughter.

I get angry when it is me she is laughing at. I get embarrassed when it is others she is laughing at in my presence. Kids are not immune, in fact if they are our kids, it is somehow even just a little bit funnier. The best thing about this flaw, she uses it on herself. Now I won’t say that she is clumsy, but she gets to laugh at herself a lot. So these two videos, oldies but goodies, are for my giggling gal and I hope that any time she needs a laugh she can log on and look. Then maybe she won’t be following me around when I have a hammer in my hand.

So if you are a compassionate, kind, caring person, you may not want to watch the following videos. And if that is true, then you have probably been reading the wrong blog. For the rest of you, those of you that maybe chuckle just a little when someone experiences just a teensy weensy bit O’ pain, then click on, and just remember, we are all fair game.

The Godfrey Goonies

akoptiontrader — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 15:04:20 +0000

With a family our size, there have often been references to the Brady Bunch or Partridge Family. For those of you too young to recall, these were 70’s TV show icons. The Brady Bunch was cool, and they had some talent, especially in choreography:

But the one that I have often dreamed we were like was the Partridge Family. Here was a family that was a full band. They traveled the world, their misadventures shared through the magic of television. They had kids that sang ( David Cassidy), a kid that played the piano, a kid that played guitar, a seven-year old drummer, a five-year old tambourine player, and a mom that played the keyboard and tambourine. They would make the most wholesome teeny bopper pop music. See for yourself, if you dare.

Why I am writing about the Partridge family? Well, I thought maybe our family could be the next Partridge family. We only have one hurdle, and it’s a very small one; There are only 3 of us with any musical talent at all. Obviously we have other skills, like my surfing. But musically, Tracy & Ben can sing, and Livy can play the piano. Dont’ get me wrong, I sing a lot, and I sing loudly, just not well. Dorian hasn’t sung a note since he was three, Alli, well Alli tries hard, and she is an excellent dancer. Jeremy is learning to play the guitar, with a heavy emphasis on learning. Kassie, she is a very good smiler and gymnast, but I don’t know how much that would help us. Jake and Jo, well they actually sing a lot, but only when they think no one is watching, usually while going potty. So performing live could be an issue.

The reason I bring this up today is because, like they often do, my children surprised me with a performance. Now when they perform, they don’t sing or really do anything, they just dress up come find us, and do their best to look cool. This is the outcome:

The Godfrey Goonies, from left to right: Jammin Jerms, Krooning Kass, Bopping Benny, Lovely Liv, and their security guard, Jive Jake.

So for any of you talent agents out there, you can clearly see we have almost all the bases covered, a large family, a diverse family, awesome attitudes, fraught with misadventures, willing to travel, and THE LOOK! If Milli Vanilli could do it, why can’t we? I, as the manager of this up and coming band, or shall I say musical dynasty, can be contacted via the comments section. We look forward to performing, uhhh standing in front of you.

Happy Valentine’s & The Don’t Song.

akoptiontrader — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 00:06:35 +0000

I just received this video from my beloved brother-in-law. They have nothing better to do in North Pole than to surf youtube looking for good videos. Anyway, I thought it was extremely appropriate for Valentine’s Day and I thought I should share it with all of you. It contains sage advice, advice that should be heeded and cherished. They put the advice to music so that you will be able to sing along and remember it, much like the alphabet, which every DUI I ever dealt with had to sing to complete. So for you entertainment, education, and enjoyment I present to you The Don’t Song.

Back to life, back to reality

akoptiontrader — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 07:03:17 +0000

What is a vacation? Can you have a true vacation while still at home? I think not. I think vacations are getting away from all the daily things in your life; work , meetings, appointments, clubs, practices, and work. The problem with vacations is that they end. It is impossible to have a never ending vacation, because at some point it becomes your “reality” or your “life”.

Now we will admit, we missed our kids and we missed our friends, but if we could’ve found a way to bring them all back to us, we would have. You could’ve all lived in our vacation for a while, and much like a tootise pop, we would see how long it takes a vacation to turn into life. My guess, when the money runs out.

To close out our trip, I thought I would just post some of our favorite shots of our trip. People seem to like the pics ( or really resent them Scott L.!) and I will work on getting another video together. Shoot, last time it only took me a year, and then it will be time for another vacation.

Well I went ahead and did a quick photo video, it was easier. I apologize for the quality, but it was a quick video just so for your enjoyment. The second video, well that is for all the doubters; those that doubt a 41 year, stocky Alaskan can surf. You can hear the cheers from the hot female in the background.

Like a troubled bridge over waters

akoptiontrader — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 14:31:57 +0000

We had planned well, up early, sit by the pool for an hour or two, eat a little breakfast, say our goodbyes, then on the road to San Jose no later than 11 am. Plans are made to be altered.
Everything was on schedule, and as we were on phase three, heading out to breakfast, we heard a frantic knock at the door. It was Jane bearing news. The road to San Jose was closed, the only road to San Jose was closed. Yesterday two tankers had collided and exploded and blew up the road making it impassible to all traffic. The only other route was an additional 3 hours, for which we had not budgeted. So now we had a vital decision, eat breakfast or start looking for alternate plans, of course we chose breakfast, the most important meal of the day. During breakfast I was able to confirm that indeed the road was likely to be closed all day today. Not good. We ate quickly, not the way I prefer to enjoy my last Costa Rican meal. Then hurried to say goodbye to the Daniels.
As soon as we got back to the Casita , I frantically began skyping and typing to figure out another route or another flight. All avenues lead to a dead end, there were no other options or alternatives. During all this Tra was stuffing our bags full of all loose items strewn about the Casita. I noticed that I was drenched in sweat, even though we were sitting comfy in our AC casita.
Finally, we decided we would take the plunge and just pray it was not the portion of road we needed to cross. We quickly loaded up the gold Vitara, and pounded on the main door hoping to say our goodbyes. Alas, the only one home was Ara, no Josh nor Jane or Mia. But we could not wait, we were already behind schedule and now if there was any delay it could prove to be the fatal blow to our departure. We gave Ara all our love and remorsefully, we departed.Now I won’t say I was speeding or driving recklessly, but let’s just say even the locals were impressed with my ability to find the small openings in traffic and take advantage of them. Tracy, not so much. We figured our only hope was the new toll road that had just opened connecting Caldera to Escazu. After 37 years that road opened the Wed. prior to our depature, and it was reported to be much faster.

The first three hours went better than planned, I was in the zone, finding the passing lanes and becoming one with the road. The weather was perfect, like always, and the whole route was paved. Even the GPS seemed to be working a little more efficiently.
Knowing the wreck was on a bridge, but not which bridge Tracy pulled out the map and started counting possible bridges. One by one we passed bridge after bridge, and with each one our hopes rose. And then it happened, we started seeing a slowing of traffic and a slew of semis, seemingly stopped in the road, and they were.

It was 1:15 pm, our flight left at 6:20,we were told by the airlines that you must check in 2 hrs. prior to international flights. The problem was, we did not know how far ahead the broken bridge was, we did not know if it was open, we did not know how long the new route would take. We tried to remain calm, as we sat watching the minutes tick away. We spoke encouraging words to each other, or perhaps to ourselves , but inside we were panicked.

One very long hour later we sensed movement and slowly began creeping forward. The bridge, it turned out was only about 1 mile from us, and it was a mess. There was one lane open, the skeleton of the two tankers sat on trailers across the bridge. there were ambulances, policia and construction workers all over the place. The right side of the bridge was burned, bent, and mangled, yet semi after semi crossed, as did we.

It was now nearly three and we still did not know how far we had to go. I knew passing was futile , but I passed anyway, it made me feel better. Now if we could only find that new road.
Blindly we drove toward Caldera, expecting signs, perhaps even fireworks marking such a significant event. There were none. Yet we drove on trusting that our GPS. The problem with that, new roads don’t show up on the GPS. Even worse, when you put in a destination and your GPS thinks you are driving over meadows, pastures and mountains it gets really mad at you. By God’s grace we found our brand new toll road. As advertised, it was much faster. One small issue, where do we get off? Tra, using her instincts and an old-fashioned map made an educated guess which we took. After winding our way down a mountain and through several small towns we emerged in the midst of San Jose rush hour. By now we were really sweating the clock, and I still had to find a gas station. Finally, after several near misses on left turns, and the kindness of a couple of fellow Tico drivers, we pulled into the rental station, time; 4:45.

After an amazing ride put on by our shuttle driver, we pulled into the airport at 5:05, no way they would let us on the plane. But they did, shoot we even had time to get a couple pieces of Church’s Chicken, and a minute for the sweat to dry and my heart to calm down. We made it safely to Miami but you’ll have to wait to read about our misadventures there.
Written on my iPhone while driving to San Jose, so forgive the typos. Just kidding it’s from an airport somewhere.

Where the heck is Junquillal ( hoonk-a-lawl)?

akoptiontrader — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 06:51:18 +0000

As much as I love having the GPS, it is definitely not infallible. For instance, last week we wanted to check out a place called Junquillal. Junquillal is a nice little beach town south of Playa Flamingo. So we punch it in the GPS and off we go on another adventure. Little did we know the true adventure it would be. You see our GPS always looks for the “shortest” route, as that is the way I have programmed it. What the GPS does not take into consideration is the condition of the road. In this case, the shortest route was along the beach on a series of “roads” that appeared as a series of dashes on our old-fashioned map.

shells as far as the eye can see

shells, shells and more shells

a casa on the beach

It turns out these “roads” would be a challenge for an ATV, much less our Suzuki SUV. There were rivers and dips, and ruts, and trees and iguanas, and occasionally a dirt bike. Our top speeds were in the 25 kilometer range, and my patience was running very short. Every once in a while there was a small “road” that turned off from our “road” and towards the beach, and through the dust and jarred teeth, I was often tempted to turn down one to take a break and change the shocks out. After about 45 minutes, our GPS told me to turn right, and since I had blindly been following it for over and hour I listened.

Tra in beachcombers heaven

There we were, parked in a tiny little dirt circle, 4 small wooden beat down shacks, 5 or 6 old skiffs strewn around the area, some upside down and sun bleached, others upright, well used, but appearing sea worthy. There were also a couple of Ticos. It reminded me of an old abandoned fishing site, except people still lived there. This was not Junquillal. So I sat in the car, pulled out the old-fashioned map, cranked up the air conditioning, and in sheer frustration tried to figure out where the heck we were, and where was Junquillal? Tracy, every so cheery decided to walk out to the beach, perhaps to get away from me. After several minutes I determined that we were just above Junquillal, and had to do some backtracking to get there. I looked up to see Tra waving me out of the car, so I decided to stretch my legs.

some quick finds

shells bigger than our hands

As I walked down to this tiny black sandy beach, I could see it was surronded by rocky reefs, with waves crashing all around. Not a good swimming beach, I thought to my self. I saw Tra smiling and taking pictures as fast as she could push the button, pretty much normal operating procedure for her. So I looked down at the beach and saw why she was excited, the beach was littered with shells. Not your normal clam size shells, but large pieces of giant shells, shells like I have never seen. They were everywhere, impressive in their color design and stature, and she was picking them up as fast as her hands could move. Her ideal beach.

we found a happy place

so we brought some friends

cool shot

As we were collecting, a young Tico boy was out on one of the reefs bent over the water in his ragged jeans and orange t-shirt. He then stood up and walked towards us, and we could see he was holding three shells, three perfect unbroken shells, that he had just washed off. All three different styles and colors, all three ranging from 8-12 inches long. He told us his dad had just found these three on this beach, and of course, they were for sale. Although we were not buyers of the shells, we were buyers of the beach. I promptly saved the location in my GPS, knowing that we would return, and it was saved by the GPS as “4X4 High Clearance Only”. And after about 1/2 hour , we were off to Junquillal. It was nice, but is was no big shell beach

Jace with a new friend, just before he attacked my camera

local fisherman often come out right at sunset

uh oh, another sunset

reflection

We did return and this time we brought the Daniels with us. The drive was not near as adventurous as we were able to find an alternate route, but this time the tide was high and the shells buried by the Pacific Ocean. Still we managed to do some free diving to gather some shells and enjoyed watching the locals fish and swimming in the bath water ocean. It was an adventure we will always remember and goes to show that the road , trail, path less traveled, although more time consuming and rougher, is often the most rewarding.

A bad day of fishing in Costa Rica, beats a lot of things.

akoptiontrader — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 04:05:25 +0000

Well apparently some things are not so much different here in Costa Rica than back home. Say for instance the fishing. We took a small charter out this morning to do a little fishing for, well for pretty much anything. Although the methods were slightly different, the weather was way different, the results were vaguely familiar; we caught nothing. I saw more variety of fish than I have ever seen outside an aquarium. They were jumping, diving, swimming and schooling all over the place, they just wouldn’t bite. Maybe it was too hot for them to eat.

our chariot awaiting us

our trusty skipper William

Jason ready to reel

first mate

The trip was not a total loss, as I said before I saw more variety of fish than I have ever seen. My favorite was the giant Manta Ray. As I have detailed in this blog in the past, we have caught many skates over the years, and I thought Manta Rays were similar. I was way off. They look similar, but it is like comparing a Piper Super Cub to a Boeing 747. The giant manta rays were amazing to watch, gliding through the water, barley moving their wings. Eventually each tip of each wing breaking the surface of the water, as two shark fins moving in unison. Then slowly gliding back down like a hand glider returning to earth. A couple off them were several feet wider than our boat, and one looked to be as big as our 21 foot fishing boat. I can only imagine the giant shadow they must cast on the bottom of the ocean.

Jrew checking the lines

pre-fishing pose

father and son

We also saw some turtles, jumping skates, and about a dozen fish of which I was told the name of, but could not understand what William the skipper called them through his thick spanglish accent. I just nodded my head and smiled, that seemed to do the trick. Finally we saw some sea snakes and some of the beautiful deserted beaches. Shoot, I even managed to get a little snooze in. It was a nice boat ride without any nasty, dirty fish to clean. Back home we would say ” all I caught was a cold”, here “all I caught was a burn, sunburn”.

like father, like son

fishing, boat riding fools

Ex-Pats Partying

akoptiontrader — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 06:42:21 +0000

Socializing together is very important for ex-pats in Costa Rica, as has become apparent to us this trip. In one week we have gone to two well attended fund-raisers. The first was here in Flamingo for a local private school. There we met many people from the community, people from the church, from the school, and just the area in general.

Dinner night at Angelina's

our transportation to many social events, Jane is a crazy driver though.

The night scene at the Haiti benefit

Tonight we went to another fund-raiser in Tamarindo, this time it was for Haiti. Again, all aspects of the community showed up for the concert, buffalo wings and company. The best thing about these get togethers is that they have great turnouts, they are cheap, and they are outside. It is a great way to meet people and feel part of the area. There is a tight-knit community here, and they take advantage of outings such as these.

Haiti benefit

They even had kids activities, including the Pinata

post sunset listening to the live music ( I can never open my eyes in a self portrait)

more scenes from the concer

Oh, and we found time to go surfing once again, without instructors. This time we hit Playa Grande, where the people are fewer the waves are bigger and the surfing is better. But, the surfing is only better for better surfers, not so much us. I am happy to report that I truly really surfed a couple waves. I mean stand up, ride the wave jump off surfing. And even though I suffered many minor injuries, I believe I will surf again, dude!

I am a monkey, and I am going to get that coconut!

look out dude!

making it happen

Tracy and her friend Arenal, the same guy from last year

the obligatory sunset with a Guancaste tree in the foreground

Things we learned:

It takes more than one day for surf wounds to heal.

12 passenger rental buses can catch air if driven at high speeds over a large speed bump.

It only costs about $2 to fix a flat tire, it only costs another $2 to fix that same flat again….

There are a lot of Americans living in Costa Rica, and they seek out other Americans.

Merry surfing to me

akoptiontrader — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 04:04:32 +0000

I am a legendary body surfer and well known boogie boarder, at least in my family. However, I cannot say that it has always been my dream to be a surfer. This past Christmas, knowing we would be in Costa Rica together, Jason bought me surf lessons. In his words, so he would not look foolish alone.

Glenn trying to hang ten

two grown men fighting for the same wave

Now I have watched hundreds upon hundreds of people surf, big waves, small waves, big boards, small boards, and for the most part it looks pretty easy. Catch a wave, jump up, balance and ride to the shore. Sure I knew it would likely take 2 or 3 times before I got the knack of it, but I am old and that is expected.

Jason getting ready to make some magic

just like the pros

ending his ride in style

It was a gusty day on Tamarindo beach, blowing along the shore line perpendicular to the surf. The sun was hot, the spray was pelting and the flying sand stung those stuck on shore. Tracy stood by on the beach guarding our things and armed with a multitude of cameras. There were several schools of surf, all identified by their color of surfing shirt and their very close proximity to the shore, like me, Jason, Jrew and Jace, in our awesome surfer blue shirts. Further out, in the big surf breaking out 100 feet past us were the pros, with their wooden short boards, wild hairdos, dark skin, long shorts, taking turns catching the big waves. I knew soon, very soon we would be out there with them.

Jason getting ready to make it happen

Jrew showing all of us how it is done

After our repetitive on shore session learning how to jump up onto the board, we were ready to hit the waves. Our teacher, Cairo, a thin tall dark Tico lead us out into the beginner surf and was soon holding our boards and shoving us one by one into the onslaught of waves. Now some of us were much quicker to grasp the concept of balance and foot position, unfortunately I was not one of them. Eventually though, I was able to stand up, and I think I actually surfed. Most of the time, by the time I was standing the ride was already over, but it still looked good in a quick photo.

ready to catch the big kahuana

almost there

Jace really seemed to get the hang of it, riding several waves all the way into the shore. Jrew also caught some great waves, and he even did a couple tricks, unintentionally, but they still looked cool. Jason caught a couple nice ones, but he injured his hip early on ( during the on shore session) and was suffering throughout the class. Yet he pressed on, and kept his word accompanying me in looking foolish. Me, well I can’t say that I became “one with the waves” but I can say that I became “one with the ocean bottom” several times. I never did make it out deep with the pros, but I was content to hang in the shallow surf with the other blue shirters, attempting to catch wave after wave. Will I ever surf again? Let’s just say I bought a brand new surf shirt today, but you won’t see me in Cook Inlet anytime soon.

two surf daddy's in one picture

emerging victorious

What we learned:

The reason you wear a surf shirt is not for warmth,or to look excessively cool, but to prevent rashes, of which I now have many.

Not only is surfing much harder than it looks, sitting on the board is harder than it looks, swimming on the board is harder than it looks, and getting to the surf is harder than it looks.

Balance is key, and it is not a given.

If you surf once, you will almost always surf again.

Pretty much anyone can look cool holding a surfboard on the beach.

My wife can take some awesome surf pictures.

the unicycle dude, after this he decided to run for an hour at sunset

I have conquered the surf

reflection ( not the one off my head, a deeper much more meaningful reflection)