We don't need a thinker. We need a doer.: The "No Broads" man-cation with dad

My dad lives in Southern California with his wife Sun, my half-brother Matt (until recently), Sun's sister Sister (nobody knows her real name), and their mom (I don't know her name because she doesn't speak English. She doesn't have a problem yelling at me in Korean though if I'm using her bathroom when she needs to go).

Dad's Koren embassy home

Sun's mom is like 200 years old and was recently moved into an assisted living facility. Matt left SoCal for Virginia because..... I have no idea why he left California for Virginia other than to get away from our old man. And probably his grandma. So that left Dad, Sun, and Sister alone in the house. Apparently Sun's not down with threesomes so she packed up Sister and moved her to their homeland - South Korea. Nobody knows why Sun wanted Sister out of the house but there was no way Dad was intervening. She gone and now Dad has to pick up after himself and learn to use the coffee maker.

That left the perfect opportunity for me to go visit dad and take a little man-cation to my favorite place in the world - the Central Coast. I dubbed this trip the "No Broads Tour." Sun was escorting Sister back to Korea and my wife was home in Michigan. Even though my sister Karyn happened to be visiting California at the same time, under no circumstances was she permitted to join us on the man-cation. First of all, she's not a man. And second, it's the "No Broads tour". Rules are rules. Bye Felicia.

I've made the drive from LA to Monterrey a handful of times and every time, I find it more mesmerizing than the last. I've always loved the ocean. I grew up in Southern California until my parents got divorced and I moved to Michigan at age 13. My wife and I moved back to Seal Beach after we married, but a year later we were back in the Great Lakes State. It's been 25 years since we've moved back and I still wonder wtf I was thinking.

If you haven't made the drive up the coast, I recommend doing it. Start in Santa Monica and make your way north on California Highway 1 - THE Pacific Coast Highway. Be warned though: if you're afraid of heights or get panicky on a roller coaster, you should think twice about this drive. It's not for the faint of heart or poor drivers. It's a white-knuckle ride your first time but worth every mile.

I like going through Malibu and seeing the homes on the oceanfront and wondering, "who lives there?" I think I remember reading that David Letterman had a house there and that Tom Hanks liked to surf Malibu. I didn't see them or I would have snapped a pic. Here's the next best thing:

Who would send their kids to Malibu High?

After passing through Malibu, the vast farmlands of Oxnard, and Ventura - the last suburb of LA - you enter the perpetual traffic of Santa Barbara. Never in all my life have I traveled past SB without a backup on the highway. It's like they've been working on the 101 for 50 years. I've never stopped in Santa Barbara because I'm always just trying to get through the traffic. I hear it's nice but I only know if for its stupid traffic.

Now begins the real trip. Once you're past Santa Barbara and Lompoc you enter into a different world. Stereotypical Southern California is behind you and the rolling hills with their lush meadows, vineyards, and rugged coast lie ahead.

My dad always has to stop in Solvang, a small inland town in the Santa Ynez Valley known for the Madonna Inn and its Danish culture. There's a windmill in town, waitresses who dress like the St. Pauli girl, and lots of shops and restaurants. We wanted to eat at the Hitching Post, which was featured in the movie Sideways but it wasn't open yet. We ended up in the theater district and ate at the Actor's Corner Cafe.

Michigan basketball shorts and fur lined slippers. Always.

It's a quaint little place across from the theater and run by a Polish woman and her Italian husband. She could not have been any kinder, and her husband certainly knows how to cook, but your choices are limited while your budget better not be.

After lunch we took the highway to our first overnight stop, Pismo Beach. We stayed at a hotel right on the shore that looked over the cliffs. They wisely named it Shore Cliffs Inn. Smart people, them Pismonians. What a view.

The story continues in my next post: drinks at Spy Glass while watching the Masters, Dad's first Uber ride, dinner at McLintock's, and a morning walk on the beach.

Meanwhile, here are some more pictures from the trip.