An Alternative 4th of July

We celebrated July 4th a little differently this year.

G, Marc, Johanna and I continued the recent circus theme and headed to Cirque Berzerk. (Tickets available at deeply discounted rates on Goldstar.)

(No photos were allowed inside the show, but check out this clip for a peak.)

If Tim Burton were to put on a circus, it might look something like this. It’s also descriptive that Cirque Berzerk debuted at Burning Man in 2005. The concept of the current show, Beneath, takes you on journey to a circus in the land of the dead. The audience follows a young woman from her suicide and through the portal to other side – literally dropping through her coffin and landing in the underworld "beneath." The thread is thin, but continues throughout as the “dead” acrobats, aerialists, burlesque dancers, and goth clowns perform their acts for the audience.

Certainly, some acts are better than others. The dance numbers in the first act left something to be desired. They are kind of lackluster and our heroine’s performance is somewhat uninspired at this crucial point when this is all meant to be drawing us into a fantastical world. Similarly, the finale lacked the explosive climax I would have like to see in a show from the underworld.

However, there is plenty in between to delight and enthrall. A dance of beautiful black and white masked puppet beings redeem the choreography in the second act. A trampoline act performed by bouncing dead brothers is delightful. A beautiful aerial act seduces the audience as a male pair soars through the air. My particular favorite, however, was the gorgeously sexy acrobatic dance of two drowned lovers. Ultimately, the show was dark, sexy and fun and I was definitely left wanting more.

The Cirque Berzerk experience does not begin or end with the show, however. The audience is encouraged to come early and picnic in the surrounding Los Angeles State Historic Park. To tell the truth, this park is in a very industrial area of downtown LA, just outside Chinatown. I’ve passed it a million times and never noticed that it was a park – but there it is – grassy, with walking and biking trails -- and definitely an appropriate setting for this gothic circus.

We brought sandwiches, but food stands were available. As might be expected from such a surreal circus, alcohol is also available.

When it’s time for the show to start a giant, shrieking flame thrower signals it’s time to make your way into the Big Top.


After the show, we took advantage of the bar and jazzy, bluesy music of the band -- Vaud & The Villains. I would definitely recommend sticking around for this. The music was really good and the drinks weren’t unreasonable, although they are cheaper before the show than after.


The shows players come out to mingle, but we had a great time just chatting, dancing, and taking in the scene, which was definitely conducive to goofing off.

Being a total ham and extremely fond of costumes, I dressed up for the occasion. The music provided the little encouragement I needed to put on a vaudeville-style dance all own my own in our little corner of the park.

Johanna occasionally danced with me. Greg and Marc ignored me. The carnival atmosphere lead them to goof around in other ways, however – there were spontaneous photo shoots and soap-bubble blowing sessions. I felt this really completed the experience.

If there were any regrets as to missing the fireworks, shows in downtown were visible from the park . . . and the occasional eruption of the shrieking flame whistle definitely appeased my inner pyromaniac.

Surf Report: Lesson # 3

I managed to stand up yesterday! Three times, actually . . . for about 5 seconds each time, but I stood up.

I went for lesson number 3 yesterday. The ocean was freezing. Like ice. Even my instructor, Nick, said he’d rarely experienced it so cold. I’d had high expectations because the weather has been a lot nicer, and yet the ocean has continued to conspire against me and my hatred of the cold water. However, I would not be deterred!

There weren’t many waves either. The day began with a lot of cloud cover, but it cleared to reveal a gorgeous start to the 4th of July weekend. It would have been perfect for a relaxing day at the beach. Waves, however, were few and far between. Still, I managed a little progress despite this.

I’ve come to another sad realization. I think the coffee that lures me out of bed in the morning is to be blamed for continually cutting my surf practices short. After the lessons are over, you can stick around and practice for as long as you want. Each time so far, however, I’ve been sabotaged by my bladder. And once I’m out of the water, managed to wrestle out of my wet suit in the restroom, and then used to the air on land again, it’s just too hard to get myself back into the icy water. I know many people would say to just go in the ocean . . . no one would know. Yeah, I just can’t. Plus, I think it’s bad karma. (It doesn’t escape me that others probably have gone in the borrowed wetsuits before me.)

So I think, we’ll just have to forgo the coffee next time, and see if I can buy myself some more time in the water.

G vs. the Mountain Lion

G defended me against a mountain lion.

We went for hike on our camping trip last weekend, and we came upon a sign that warned that we were “in mountain lion country” and listed all the ways one should act should one encounter a mountain lion.

We continued along our way, chatting and taking photos of the scenery. We decided to take a path that rounds the lake. It was a very open and easy route, clearly meant for the most leisurely of hikers. However, we came up to a turn in the road where the brush came grew tall along one side, obstructing the view of what was beyond the side of the path. As we rounded this bend, we suddenly heard a loud, rumbling GRRRRROOOWWWLL.

I promptly screamed and jumped 3 feet to the side before reason kicked in and reminded me that this is exactly what you’re NOT suppose to do. Yes, you’re supposed to make a lot of sound, but rather than scamper and run, you’re supposed to make yourself tall and hold your ground while being loud. You want to show the lion that you are a threat. So once again, we have learned that I have not achieved Bad Ass outdoor woman status.

When I look up to see G though, my darling hubs has acted exactly as he should have. He had taken a couple of steps to the side, putting himself between me and the sound, stood himself up very tall, and was yelling loudly in a controlled methodical way, as opposed shrieks of terror I adopted.

About 30 seconds and a good amount of stomping and yelling later, G came to the realization that we were protecting ourselves from a motor boat in the lake below whose motor was having trouble starting. So it turned out that this was a case of fighting with windmills; however, there is also a moment of truth in here.

G is not a super macho guy. He is much more the intellectual and far more inclined to employ reason rather than brawn in any situation. However, clearly he is also no weakling. For those 30 seconds, we really thought there was a lion crouched in the brush ready to pounce on us, and in this moment G’s reason did not fail him. As far as I’m concerned, G defended me from a mountain lion.

Plus, we had the pleasure of laughing at ourselves and at how ridiculous we must have looked screaming and stomping at a boat, while walking safely back to our campsite. You know . . . as opposed to being mauled to a bloody, gruesome death by a large hungry cat.

Roughing it

I begged G for years to take me camping. This year he finally gave in and now we’ve been twice. Up until this year, I had not been camping since I was a 10 year-old Girl Scout. Somehow in my mind, despite having had any real exposure or training since then other than the occasional leisurely hike, I’m well on my way to becoming a badass outdoors woman.

That’s what I like to think. However -- reality check -- so far my camping experiences have better served as training in Epicureanism. Pretty much, it has just been living the good life, but outside and sans showers.

G and I headed on our first camping trip back in March, along with Amy and Marc. (I alluded to it in an earlier post.) We headed all the way out into the wilds of Malibu. I admit it, saying you’re going camping in Malibu automatically strips away any notions of roughing it. To further strip away this myth, we preceded the setting up of tents and such with a trip to nearby Malibu Family Wines. We picnicked with a bottle of wine, a baguette, lots of cheese and charcuterie, and sundry other goodies. Once we did arrive at our campsite, we set things up pretty quickly. We then went off on a “hike.” We didn’t get very far. We wound up eating chocolates while enjoying the bank of a friendly creek.

All kidding aside, Malibu State Park is really spectacular and I do recommend going here. This park was verdant (at least on this occasion) with lots of trees and hills. The scenery was rated 9 out of 10 in a camping book we consulted. It’s absolutely accessible for day use as well. It’s so close to civilization and yet it feels so far away. I felt like we might as well have been somewhere over the rainbow.

(I thought the view of this hill looked like King Kong, but no on else saw it but me)

And give us some credit -- On this occasion we did actually sleep outside in a tent and did some improvisational cooking on the grill and the stove we brought with us.

(My ill-fated attempt at pancakes.)

And while Marc and Amy headed home in the morning, G and I did finally did go on that hike.

We capped this very arduous camping experience with a drive down the PCH ending at Venice Beach with a Po Boy and a beer. It may have not been roughing-it exactly – or at all – but we certainly took advantage of the best that LA has to offer.

Camping round 2 occurred this past weekend. Carolyn, my mother-in-law, rented an RV and invited us along for a short camping getaway. This time our destination was Lake Jennings, which is just outside San Diego.


Once again, not exactly far from civilization – homes are visible not too far away. The lake was bright blue, and while we just hiked around it, boat rentals are available for paddling around in or fishing. I kind of wish that we’d brought our bikes because the many trails around the lake and the hills looked perfect for mountain biking. The scenery here has a more rustic beauty – the hills are stony and the vegetation is mostly chaparral.

Now Carolyn is a wonderful woman, however, roughing-it and trying to make do with as few supplies as possible isn’t exactly her thing. She’s more of the be-prepared-for-anything mentality. Meals on this camping trip were anything but paltry. We took turns cooking so that each of us was head chef for one meal per day, and each meal in its way was a feast. Of course at night there were also the requisite s’mores and hot chocolate.

For two days I had a very rigorous schedule that went something like this: eat, read, nap, light hike, repeat. Sometimes Carolyn would insert a knitting lesson here and there, and of course there was lots of conversation, but that was pretty much the schedule. It was hot out, so I really can’t be blamed for getting drowsy often. Yeah, it was rough. I pretty much took on the life of a cat.

At some point I’ll get around to learning how to be the bad-ass outdoors woman. For now, roughing it like this ain’t too shabby.