Summertime, Spartans and bagpipes oh my

I have to admit as open and freewheeling as I like to think I am, the truth is I'm probably much more a creature of habit.

For example, there are two staples of my summer every year. The first is a four-and-a-half day trip to San Diego for Comic Con with my son. The second is our family tradition, now in its twelfth year, of a few days in late summer at the Hotel Del Coronado. I look forward to each of them equally, but for obviously different reasons.

I mean, you almost never see women scantily dressed as Spartans from the movie 300 at the Hotel Del. And try as you might, it's just impossible to find a four-piece shrimp cocktail for forty-five dollars at Comic Con (I've taken the liberty of not including a picture - you're welcome).

Each place is unique in its own way.

This year however, in a fit of wanderlust and gypsy channeling, the wife brought up the idea of going someplace different. When I heard her say that, two thoughts went careening through my head: first, by different I hope she means in addition to, because there's no way I'm giving up my two summer traditions (cue Tradition from Fiddler on the Roof).

And second, how much is this going to cost me? Especially at this late date.

Still, I like the idea of adding a third leg to the summer routine.

In summers past, before Comic Con and the Del, we’ve gone up north and spent a few days in San Francisco. One particular time, we enjoyed a week in the Hapsburg Suite at the Fairmont that we'd won in a charity auction. I like to file it under worse things could happen.

But I'm afraid the wife is thinking of a somewhat larger, more distant trip - more along the lines of Scotland.

Now don't get me wrong. I've been told more than once that I have legs that were meant for a kilt. And once I get past the idea that bagpipes sound like a bag of cats screaming to get out, I actually enjoy them.

The problem with a trip like that, as with so many things in life, is timing. We’re already late in the game as far as booking air fare and hotels at any kind of reasonable price. Plus – and this is a good problem to have – I seem to be getting fairly booked up work wise, so I don’t know how I’d clear the days. With freelance, no worky no money.

Still, because I've been known to occasionally act on a whim, pour gas on the credit cards and ask forgiveness later, I’m going to brush up on my brogue and see if I can acquire a taste for porridge and kippers just in case.

If it does turn out to be Scotland, the only thing I know for sure is I’m not playing golf when we get there.

Quick warning: clip has language not be suitable for the youngsters.