I just watched N.C. State go toe to toe with Florida State in double-overtime, only to lose 50 to 44. It was a tough loss, but a great game nonetheless. I’m happy to see all the great compliments that Noles fans are posting about Philip Rivers and N.C. State on their message boards.

Guess it was time for FSU to win. After all, rivalries are no fun if they’re one-sided, eh?

I slipped out of my hotel room early this morning to visit the beach. It felt like the first time all week that I’d been able to do things on my own. I dodged traffic in front of the hotel to make it to a state park across the street. The chilly morning air cut through my shirt and sweater, leaving me hurrying to get there, hands jammed in my pockets.

After a 10 minute walk, I was standing on the beach. The Pacific stood before me, serene behind the gentle surf in front of me. Hundreds of fat seagulls eyed me warily as I strode up to the water’s edge. I stopped and snapped a picture of the dawn. Putting my camera down to take it all in, I decided one shot wouldn’t do, so I took a panoramic shot of the immense ocean in front of me.

As I turned back to the east, I saw the sun begin to peek over the low cliffs. What an awesome sight.

I stooped to wave my hand in an approaching wave. “Hello, ocean,” I said to myself, reuniting with a friend I knew so well for three years.

My mission was accomplished. Walking back to the hotel, I was struck by the simple beauty that is the ocean. So calm and serene on the surface. So teeming with life just below.

As I crossed the street, I was almost struck by something else. A cyclist was cruising down the hill toward me. Seeing I was about to step into the bike lane (does ANYONE in California actually use these things, I thought), I stepped back onto the curb just in time. The cyclist whizzed by me, taking a moment to study me through amber goggles as he pedaled by.

Good morning, Lance.

It’s going to be a great day.

Last night it occured to me the outrageous amount I’m spending (well, the COMPANY is spending) for me to have a car. Meanwhile, back in Raleigh, I’m spending a somewhat less outrageous amount to store my car in the lot until I get back.

That made me think that there must be some way to cut out the middleman, in this case the car rental places. What if there was a service where a member could borrow the car of another member who was traveling from the airport you were going to? There is probably a lot of cars at the John Wayne airport where I’m heading, and the owners are paying for those cars to just sit there. What if the car owner (or member) could get paid to let others borrow their car?

The rates could be below the rental rates, but still be enough to make things worthwhile. Maybe we could have a third party at the lot who could meet the “renter” and make sure the car was in good shape when it came back.

Its a goofy idea, but with the right controls in place, it might work. It all hinges on the comfort level of the car owner. Gotta figure that part out.

I can really think up some dumb thoughts when there is nothing else to do, eh?

Well, my night wasn’t as bad as I expected. I met up with our partners to grab dinner. One of them was familiar with the area, so we were able to find a restaurant without a wait. Over margaritas, we traded stories about natural disasters, the West Coasters bragging about earthquakes and me bragging about hurricanes. Each side shook its head over why the other would put up with such chaos. 🙂

I am dying to go “say hello to the ocean” as my scuba diving instructor used to say. It’s a ritual where I go splash around in the water. Used to do it before every dive to get things off on the right foot. As I drove past La Jolla yesterday I thought of my diving days, since that was the place I did my very first open-water dive. Kelly tells me again and again how she’d like to learn to dive, but things got sidetracked when The Kid came along. Maybe we can get back in the water someday soon.

Lunch yesterday was at the food court of the Newport Beach “Fashion Island” mall. The guys here told me later that that Newport is one of the wealthiest places around. That explains the Beemers, Mercedes, and Lexuses (Lexi?) I saw parked around my big orange Mustang. The meeting with the customer went well, too, if it ran a bit too long for my taste. I’m still fighting a “midafternoon zone-out” every day, the only jet lag issue I’ve had so far.

One of the guys here is a big cycling buff, and told me Lance Armstrong is in town for a charity event. My friend was threatening to call in sick today to go meet him. Can’t say I blame him, since I’m a cycling fan, too. While I may not get a chance to break away from the presentation today, I did find out that Lance has to catch a flight around the same time I do, so there is a possiblity I could see him at the airport. That would be pretty cool.

So I’m staying at the DoubleTree Hotel in Doheny Beach, CA tonight. It’s right across the street from the beach. I’ve got a suite. Looks like a nice place, right? My fellow RoadShow travelers wondered out loud earlier “I wonder why its so cheap?”

Could be that Amtrak train that roars past the hotel every hour. Or that the room I’m in is right underneath a dining room. And not just any dining room: one filled with giggling high school girls. Every one of these girls is exactly the same size and shape; that is to say, a little on the heavy side. And they are all wearing a sweatshirt with hood. It’s so surreal. Like some kind of casting call for 300 women who look exactly alike.

I was watching TV earlier when I first heard the stomping around in the floor above. I was thinking to myself “what’s up with the herd up there” even before I found out who was up there. It’s been stomp, stomp, CRASH, step, step, step, THUD. I’m hoping that they settle down or I’m going to ask for a new room, preferably one away from the railroad tracks.

I’m going out now to get some food, and maybe a beer. Only a few more hours and I’ll be home.

So I’m at the last stop of my marathon California trip. I’m clear on the other side of the country, right? I click on the TV here in my Doheny Beach hotel room and what’s on the tube?

It’s Raleigh. Home. On an episode of the trashy dating show Elimidate.

This loser Jason is looking for a date. Totally full of himself. The lucky girls were the ones he dismissed. He proceeds to march these girls around town. First I see Jillian’s. Then its some place called Mojos, which I’ve never heard of. Then he’s at Ruckus at Mission Valley, where the girls dance on the bar.

It was bizarre. Quite a shock to turn on the TV and see Raleigh. Too bad it couldn’t have been under better circumstances. I’ll take my pictures of home with a shot of cheese, I guess.

California…where to begin? I’ve got to crash now but maybe I can put in some stream-of-consciousness stuff and fill in the blanks later.

Smooth flight on Southwest, as usual. Why is it that each Southwest flight is like a shared experience between travelers? I meet more people on Southwest flights than any other airline. People just open up for some reason.

Touchdown on that familiar solitary runway at Lindberg Field.

Another ugly Mustang for a rental car. Bright yellow in Toronto, pumpkin orange here.

Why is everything so dark here? Streets are dark. The hotel’s exterior hallway is dark because the lights are out. Dark is everywhere.

The guys behind me on the plane who spent the whole time talking about vulnerability scanning. All I ever do is talk about vulnerability scanning. I was dying to talk to them and at the end of the flight, I gave them my card.

Checkin at the hotel. I managed to book myself back into the same hotel I stayed in last time I was in San Diego. That time I was here to see a former shipmate get married. At least eight years ago, in my estimation.

Memories of that trip when a taste of home came on the hotel lobby radio. It was the Connells’s hit ’74-’75. Upon hearing it, I grinned ear to ear.

Conversation this morning with a Detroit reseller whose brother lived at Mission Beach near the roller coaster. He mentioned one of my favorite dive hangounts: Moondoggies. What fun I had there.

All the friends I had here once and where they are now. I have a list of folks I hope to scare up while I’m here.

Driving by old haunts and recalling the friends I met there.

Learning my former home here in San Diego, the USS Elliot, is being decommissioned in less than a month. I hated that steel box and I loved it, too. It’s fitting it is coming to an end near my visit.

Damn you, California. I left you vowing never to look back, but you got to me anyway. I couldn’t shake you if I tried.

I’m in Detroit tonight for a sales call tomorrow morning. Then its off to the Left Coast for a marathon sales trip. Three cities in four days. Whee.

The hotel here has Wifi in the rooms. Not only Wifi, but with ROUTABLE IPs even. Good thing I run a firewall on the old laptop here. Heh.

After dinner, I’ll see how Free World Dialup likes this network by making a few test calls.

EVERY hotel should have free internet access. Those that don’t will be shunned. At least by THIS geek. 🙂