When I first saw the subject for this in-class writing assignment I was thinking, “Oh great I never do anything fun,” but as I reminisced I realized I actually have a ton of exciting photos from my brief travel experiences.  I have one photo framed in my room of my mom, my sister and myself at Lake Tahoe.  It was taken my first year of college and it was the first time anyone from my family had come to visit me.  Seeing as though it was my first year away from home I had been getting homesick but having them come to visit me and taking a trip to the most beautiful lake in Nevada really meant alot to me.  I was proud to show off my new “home” to the people who mean the most to me.

I also really enjoy the picture of my whole family in L.A. at Hollywood Boulevard.  It was cold and rainy my new sister-in-law and cousin were very pregnant, it was late at night and everyone looks cranky.  It was not the best part of our vacation (you can certainly tell by the looks on our faces) but it always makes me smile at a trip that so many of us went on together.

But the photo that I still get really excited about is actually kind of odd.  It is a picture of me with a statue of Franklin Delano Roosevelt at the FDR Memorial in Washington, D.C.  I don’t really know why I like it so much.  I guess it just has to do with the fact that it was taken on a senior trip in high school when I had an amazing time with friends.  I also enjoy history, monuments and imagining myself living in a time that I will never get to experience; those types of places always get my mind wonerding.  The memorial was absolutely beautiful with large waterfalls and walls depicting the many accomplishments of his presidency.  I believe the picture is so memorable because FDR is my favorite president and the people I was with makes it worth thinking and smiling about.  It was a trip I would go back for in a heartbeat.  

 “Let’s go buy some binoculars to spy on the neighbors.”  The first words that came out of my mom’s mouth as I entered the house for my first visit home in six months hit me with great surprise.  Expecting her to suggest something more a long the lines of buying candy and watching a girl movie together, I was speechless.  “Come on, I think they might be swingers.”  A term I did not think my innocent mom would know the definition to.  I finally managed to utter, “What are you talking about?”

My mom went on to explain to me that the large house across the bare desert from ours had begun to stick out like a sore thumb in our quiet, dark neighborhood.  She took me into her bedroom only to point out that the big flood lights that had been placed in the neighbors’ backyard have been keeping her up at night; I think she was up all night more from curiosity than the lights actually shining too bright, but still, it definitely peaked my interest. 

My grandmother and aunt had arrived in Las Vegas only a few days before me and they were more than willing to catch me up on the many theories that they had already ruthlessly been coming up with regarding the happenings of the house.  Angie blurted out, “There is no doubt they are swingers, I saw the shadows” (I knew my mom didn’t come up with that idea on her own).  “But look there are cameras on the wires too, why would they have cameras just for swinger parties?”  Good point Nana.  “We would probably be surprised at the type of thing swingers do.  Those type of people live in a whole other world,” Angie obviously thought she knew what she was talking about.

All this swinger talk had gotten everyone off track.  We decided we would take more time to investigate the urgent situation at another time.  That time came randomly when we were driving home from a day of shopping at Las Vegas’ new Town Center.  When we were almost home my mom made a detour and we knew what the goal she had in mind was, to find the root to her sleepless nights.  We drove down the “swinger” house street and, to our disappointment, found nothing out of the ordinary; the house sits quietly in the corner while the next-door neighbors went about their regular duties taking out the garbage and walking their dogs.  We did notice two irregular tidbits about the house, for one, the large window in the front of the house was painted various colors as if to keep what’s going on inside a secret (perhaps Angie’s swinger theory may have some backing) but there is also a security guard wearing a Sacramento Kings t-shirt guarding the side entrance of the house.  I knew families didn’t live with security guards at their side gates even in the poshest of neighborhoods and my neighborhood is not one of those. 

We could not fathom how the neighbors could live on the same street as that exciting house and live perfectly normal lives at the same time.  So, we decided to ask a sweet, old man who was walking his pug what was going on in the house of interest.  He gave us a keen smile and said, “I wish I could tell you, come back in a few months.”  Seriously?  What a disappointment!  He was too nice, so we didn’t want to badger him any further than that.  As we exit the cul-de-sac to turn onto our street we caught a glimpse of the catering the service they used: At Your Service Catering.  That’s interesting.  We discovered one more piece of evidence before the day of stalking had come to a conclusion, we could see a cameraman and a person holding a microphone following a group of about five men around on the patio as they barbequed their catered dinner.  It is then that I came to realize the swinger theory had gone out the window and the “swinger” house has now turned into the “Hollywood” house. 

We had a new theory: a TV show is being filmed there, most likely some sort of reality show.  I hate to admit it but from that point on I was really hoping that was the site for some sort of celebrity rehab/ intervention fiasco and Britney Spears was going to pull out an umbrella and begin wailing on everyone within a mile radius because then, that would include me.  I began staying up at night fantasizing about the Hollywood that had popped up in my own backyard, and I had no excuse for my sleepless nights, I couldn’t even see the flood lights from my room.     

The next night I informed my older brother, who was still living at home, about what was taking place in our boring neighborhood.  He had no idea such a thing was going on. Shane, Chris, his friend, and I decided we would go on a rendezvous that night, maybe even wreak some havoc in the desert separating us from the unknown zone. 

We jumped up into Chris’s truck and began our off-roading sort of adventure.  The night was clear and to our luck (but to my disappointment at seeing no sign of Britney) there was a large group of guys being filmed fighting on the balcony.  Shane and Chris practically pushed me out of the truck to get a closer look.  I got nervous and made Shane join me.  We had the perfect view, a front row seat peaking over the brick wall.  We were watching a guy with bright, red hair picking a fight and acting macho in front of the three cameras surrounding him.  It was a typical reality show scene.  We had halfway solved the mystery, but what was this “reality” show we were watching in person?

As Chris joined us they decided it would be a good time to yell profanities at the guys grouped on the balcony.  That was when I knew it was my time to leave. After all, I knew there were security guards protecting the house.  The guys on the balcony started yelling back but to Shane and Chris’s disappoint the cameras weren’t interested in them.  They realized they weren’t going to get the rise out of the crew they were hoping for so we went home—disappointed but excited. 

That seemed to be the last night of commotion that came from the “Hollywood” house.  I went back to college, my reality.  The days and weeks went by, my mom updated me as the cameras came down and flood lights no longer shone through her window.  My first visit back to Las Vegas was in November, the “Hollywood” house was up for sale and there was no sense of excitement regarding my neighbors any longer.  But while watching Spike TV one night we were able to solve the mystery.  We were watching the Ultimate Fighting Championship when the guys in the show jumped into their van and left a very familiar place.  As they drove away in the background was the multicolored window that could only belong to one house.  The “Hollywood” house had now become the UFC house to us.  Although the mystery solving and interest was over we still have one thing to look forward to as the end of the season approaches… will Shane and Chris’s profanity be heard all across the nation?  We have yet to find out as we tune in religiously hoping to see some glimpse of the curious neighbors.

If there is one thing a person can learn from this story it is that being a nosey neighbor can lead to some good fun.  Who knew such a short vacation home could turn into such an adventure.  You don’t have to travel extraordinary distances to get a behind the scenes look at a “reality” that remains a mystery to most.        

            In June, 1996, Nevada Senator Harry Reid invited President Bill Clinton to vacation in Lake Tahoe to assess its natural beauty and depleting natural resources.  President Clinton put off this long sought after visitation until July, 1997 when he and Vice President Al Gore made history; this was the first time both a president and vice president had attended a forum in Tahoe.  It was also the first time national attention was focused on Nevada’s foremost natural landmark.

            The President and Vice President decided to organize a two-day Lake Tahoe Presidential forum that took months of preparation by local, federal, state, and tribal governments.  In the two months prior to the forum, federal government leaders and agency representatives held three Cabinet workshops to prepare an organizational and environmental plan to reduce contamination and increase protection of Lake Tahoe and its surrounding regions.  At the conclusion of the workshops the staff identified the most pressing recommendations concerning: water quality; forest ecosystem restoration, recreation, tourism, and transportation.  They also focused efforts on organizing a group of agencies to implement the improvement policies.

            On July 26, 1997, the presidential forum took place after President Clinton and Vice President Gore spent a morning aboard the University of California, Davis research vessel, Le Conte, testing water clarity and quality.  The briefing took place in Incline Village and the president praised the nonpartisan effort the community was bringing forth to restore and preserve the lake.  He signed Executive Order 13057 naming the region an area of national concern.  The order created a Federal Inter-agency Partnership, and pledged an additional $26 million, bringing total contributions to $50 million, in support of ecosystem restoration.

President Clinton promised the federal government would do more to protect Tahoe’s surrounding wooded areas from forest fires, implement policies on the prevention and restoration of the lake’s declining water quality, and reduce traffic and pollution.  He also granted the Washoe Tribe 350 acres of land to protect their sacred homeland. 

Today, over one billion dollars in contributions have been made; and although the lake’s water clarity continues a slow decline, the overgrown forests have improved, reducing the risks of fire. Government and community efforts have kept the forum an annual tradition focusing the national spotlight on Lake Tahoe once every summer. 

On Friday I was in a classroom, not any old classroom but a preschool classroom filled with three year olds.  It is amazing to see the excitement and wonder in a three-year-old child’s eyes.  They are so eager to consume as much information as they can  about the world, about people, about their surroundings and even about themselves.

During nap time as the serene music was playing and the last child finally managed to wiggle himself to sleep I sat back and began to wonder what life was like as a three-year-old and began to question whether or not I had actually lived with that mindset.  As I traveled down memory lane I began to think of the many first days of school I have experienced throughout my fifteen years of schooling. 

One particular first day came to mind: the first day of  kindergarten.  What an exhilarating day!  I remember coming home the night before and finding an “expensive” plastic Lion King backpack I had been begging my mom to buy me, for what seemed like forever. After all it was my very first day of school.  I could not believe she would invest in such a treasure for me; I knew I was going to have the best backpack that day.  After a restless night, getting ready for school that morning seemed to go on and on.  As my mom was teasing my bangs I imagined all the friends I would make and the homework I would be assigned and could not wait to get started working on.

Traveling briefly into history for a moment I felt a sense of weariness overcome me.  Surrounded by little people eager to begin their life of learning, I realized just started what should be an exciting time in my life, another school year.  Instead I was dreading that homework that I used to yearn for.  Sometimes I wish time travel, of all the forms of traveling, was possible that way I could remember what it felt like to find true pleasure in the simplest of things. 

On a comfortable July afternoon four generations of Halls stand on a gravel mountain road with smiles ear to ear.  It is hard to believe what is happening before their eyes.  Gramps, 75, and Grandma, 70, are strapping on helmets gearing up to take their first four-wheeling adventure of their lifetimes.  Gramps jumps into the driver’s seat while Grandma, less than enthused, hesitantly asks for help onto the back of the vehicle from her litter of grandsons standing around.  After posing for a photo op, Grandma, still scared for her life, holds on tight as Gramps leaves his admiring family waving in a trail of dust.   

That kind of simple excitement is what this 4^th of July week entails for the 25 or so of us staying at a rented cabin in the small but charming mountain town of Duck Creek Village, Utah.  The locals are friendly and immediately make us feel at home.  We like to think they enjoy our company; most of the visitors don’t take the time to talk to the owners of the few boutiques and places to eat, which by the way, are all connected by one common ramp making them easily accessible to all who pass by.  But we get to know them fast, seeing as, although the family is enjoying each other’s company we all get a little stir crazy by the end of the day.  I think by the second day we had visited the corner store at least six times to buy snacks that you would think were packaged in gold by the prices we were paying; I guess it’s our fault for spending the money like our Doritos we purchased were gold.  We think the other owners of the shops liked us but we know Kathy loved us by the end of the week, let’s just say the shelves were pretty bare when we left.

The locals were happy to share many stories with us.  Our favorites included enchanting stories of the winters here that look very similar to what we are seeing now except they replace the quads zooming along the dusty roads with snowmobiles gliding along freshly fallen snow.  It’s hard for a Las Vegas family wearing jackets in the middle of a summer day to imagine a blanket of snow covering the mountainside; it truly turns into a fairy tale for us.  

These types of mountains are quite foreign to us and we feel as though we have become a part of nature, even if the cabin is equipped with a big screen TV and Hot Tub to enjoy.  For a large family from Las Vegas we are proud of our attempt at “roughing it” so far.  We even took a family tour of the local trails on horseback.  That was quite the adventure.  Aunt Shannon’s horse started galloping and startled the other horses we were riding on, which was the least of our worries considering the fact that she had no idea how to control it.  Our leader, who we liked to call Cowboy Ted, was forced to jump down from his high reigns to calm the pack that was out of control on the trail behind him.  With all the girls screaming and the children enjoying the humorous sight, Cowboy Ted attends to the horse, while what seems to be a cowboy intern, tries to keep the horses in the back at a steady pace.  After what seemed like an eternity but was only thirty seconds, we were back on trail laughing nervously about the adventure we accidentally found ourselves on.  Boy, did we have a story to tell the men back home that were probably still asleep 

While most everyone is up by 7:30 am every morning, the teenage boys are the exception, they have turned the basement into their own cave in the mountains; we think they have forgotten what season it is as they hibernate until late afternoon hours.  As we arrived home from our horseback rendezvous still embarrassed by the way we reacted to the situation we burst through the doors and yell at them to wake up.  We overwhelm them with the story while sleep is still in their eyes.  They really don’t care.  That’s fine. We have better things to do then tell them all the fun we’re having as they waste away their only vacation of the summer. 

After we give up on them we decided to entertain ourselves for the rest of the day playing Catchphrase, “the catch it, guess it, pass it game” that has been keeping us gabbing all week.  The boys also make fun of us for this because it is a game that any typical woman should love; it involves continuous talking while trying to interpret what the other is saying.  Even though they may not like to admit it, they participated and enjoyed the game more than us most of the time.  Such a simple game can produce an immense amounof laughter and gives insight into the sides of family members we may not always experience.  No one verbalized it but that game became a household favorite because of the bond it created on that trip and the reminiscent feeling we all sensed in its presence.  

That last night in the cabin Katie, my nine-year-old cousin, and I decide the best way to end our vacation would be to camp out on the porch together.  On a chilly night, I fall asleep watching the clear sky’s wonderful display of endless scattered stars and listening to the whispers and laughter of my family sitting below finishing their last game of Catchphrase for the week.  I attempt to capture the moment with my camera recording the sounds and filming the stars.  Waking up early the next morning, I take out my camera to view the memories I made throughout the week, only to realize that I already miss them.  I am slightly disappointed to see that technology will never be able to imitate the days we experienced together riding horses, playing board games and eating Hershey burgers.  The camera will never catch the true joy we felt, doing the most ordinary activities, a feeling that can only return when we look back and smile.