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| Blogs > Fallic40 > Seeing Red ....... |
Like George, I Am Curious
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Like George, I Am Curious Once again, I have entered the big, shiney metal bird and headed south for the spring. Of course it is in much better circumstances this year than it was when I came down here a year ago for the wake of my father. And the intervening year has passed in a blur: albeit a blur that is infused with the persistent interruption of memories of my father. No, this trip is one for me to check up on how my mum is doing as I do not think that she is doing as well as she lets on. I have a family room to paint, a front door to strip, prime and paint and various and sundry holes to dig for her new plants to go in since she lost so many established plants this winter. (The fact that there is a “winter” in the Palm Springs area comes as somewhat of a surprise to me.) And we all know how much I looooooooooooooooooove to fly. The act of flying itself does not worry me at all: I completely understand the mathematics of aerodynamics and totally agree with them. I just do not enjoy the truculence of the airline staff, combined with long lines of waiting people, combined with miniscule packets of (doggy) treats and tiny cups of coffee. I think that I am better suited to the “Clipper of the skies” days when air travel was luxurious and only the Hindenburg had better service. But this trip did make for some amazing people watching. There was an elderly couple on my flight who I christened Mr. and Mrs. Thurston Howell IV. They had on matching “his ‘n’ hers” captain’s blazers and he even had a captain’s cap on his head. Muffy was sporting more gold than Cleopatra and I think that her necklace was worth two or three times what my truck is worth. I also had some bloke on my flight who, I swear, was Jimmy Bullard; the former Fulham and England national team midfielder who was sold to Hull this winter and who promptly tore up his knee. I know that he has been getting rehab in the Portland area after getting knee reconstruction in Denver ‒ so you never know. And the guy was a cockney, and having a really difficult time using his English to communicate with the Americans in the airport so it may have been really him …… oooooooh, I feel a girly moment coming on. Of course, I could have gone over and translated since I am really good at speaking both English and American: but it is just so damn entertaining to watch two people try and communicate in a common language that leaves both totally incomprehensible to the other. But the real gem of the trip was the dude with the biggest fucking cowboy hat on that I have ever seen. I mean this sucker was a lot more than ten gallons. I could have flipped it upside down and used it for a bath tub. Hell, _Saf and I could use it for a hot tub. I mean this hat was huge. The last time I saw a cowboy hat as big as the state of Texas, Benny Hill was wearing it (along with a bitchin’ set of sheepskin chaps) or it might have been Harold Lloyd in a silent film (doodle doodle dum, doodle doodle dum, dum dum dum dum dum). About the only thing missing were a couple of arrows sticking out of the hat. (And it was a white cowboy hat, too.) It was round like the Smokey Bear hats that the Oregon State Police wear. But this chapeau had done some serious steroids. There are East German swimmers and MLB first baseman that dream of being this pumped up. It was so big that the “man with the big yellow hat” was green with envy. And like Curious George, I am curious as to where one purchases such an amazing piece of head ornamentation. And does one have to pay extra to transport a hat such as this? Can one even carry it onto the plane? Conversely, if the plane does go down, it would be better than using one’s seat as a floatation device: rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub. Of course, this would require one going down over water; which wouldn’t have done too much good unless we came down in Lake Shasta. However, he was on a different flight so my curiosity had to stretch in other directions such as how did Jesus feed the multitudes with five loaves and five fishes: easy, he went through flight attendant training for Horizon. He probably would have had a couple of fish left over. Anyhow, anyway, anyhoo, I am going to have lots of time to write this week; that is when I am not digging holes in my mum’s garden, working on her car, walking her dogs, sanding / priming / painting the front door, fixing the sprinkler system, and painting her family room. I am already dreaming of a nice quiet week working next week. (And, oh by the way, technically I am laid off this week rather than on vacation.)  |
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May we have bubbles in our hot tub? And I can show you a couple of places to purchase those big-uns.  / *hugs* /  This is my blog - [blog _Safira]. There are many like it, but this one is mine. RECOMMENDED READING: A F F The Only Site For Me
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5/5/2009 5:40 pm |
Hope you have a wonderful visit with your mum!  Dontcha love people watching at the airport? Best place ever for that...  "All you'll get from strangers is surface pleasantry or indifference. Only someone who loves you will criticize you." - Judith Crist, crack film critic
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Hi Tiz, I will. L
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May we have bubbles in our hot tub? And I can show you a couple of places to purchase those big-uns. / *hugs* / If by bubbles, you mean champagne, why yes? And I think I have found a place at the beach with a hottub too. And of course you know a place with giant cowboy hats (besides a certain stadium in Irvine) since you are from Texas and everything is big in Texas. L
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Hi Shaye, It went over 100 degrees several days last week and it is only early May. but my mum loves the heat. The chores were no big deal as that was a big part of why I went down there: to take care of a bunch of jobs that my mum and aunt cannot do for themselves. L
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Hope you have a wonderful visit with your mum! Dontcha love people watching at the airport? Best place ever for that... People watching is a blast anywhere. Downtown Portland is as good of a place as any. And I discovered that my mum is a closet people watcher too ... Rather than have my mum cook a Sunday dinner and perpetrate some heinous acts on a perfectly innocent piece of meat and equally innocent veggies, I took her to dinner at Applebees. She was busy watching the party of rather senior ladies in the booth behind us get liquored up in a big way (I stopped counting after 4 martinis each) and listening one of them regale the others with a story about nude cyclists in San Francisco the other week .... L
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_Saf, If by bubbles, you mean champagne, why yes? And I think I have found a place at the beach with a hottub too. And of course you know a place with giant cowboy hats (besides a certain stadium in Irvine) since you are from Texas and everything is big in Texas. L GO CAPS -- ROCK THE RED!!!!!  / / This is my blog - [blog _Safira]. There are many like it, but this one is mine. RECOMMENDED READING: A F F The Only Site For Me
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