“The thing under my bed waiting to grab my ankle isn’t real. I know that, and I also know that if I’m careful to keep my foot under the covers, it will never be able to grab my ankle.”
– Stephen King
There’s something about today I’m forgetting. Some kind of holiday….
* * *
The Department of Domestic Travel Post
Winning the TSA lottery (and irritating your spouse)
As part of my ongoing commitment to Public Service and fostering happy marital travel relationships, I must share the following: I do not advise performing any variation of the Happy Feet Dance ® when you and Your Beloved ® have printed out your boarding passes, and you detect the magical phrase TSA Precheck above your name.
Random selection, scmandom selection – this designation means that, yes, I am more trustworthy than you (and a Highly Respected Government Agency [1] knows it).
How pitifully easy we have become used to being treated like so many sheep/potential terrorists; how pathetically easy it is for us to rejoice in being the recipient of such petty “luxuries” (“I can keep my shoes on!” “I don’t have to remove my quart-sized, clear, plastic, zip-top bag of 3.4 ounces (100ml) or less per container liquid Liquids, gels, aerosols, creams and pastes!).
* * *
Department of What Must Be Done After Any Trip to Southern California
All rise for the reciting of the Pledge of Allegiance obligatory complaining about the air pollution and traffic jams.
Well, yeah. There’s that.
* * *
Department of She Meant Well…Whatever She Meant
The trip to SoCal last weekend was to attend my nephew’s wedding. K and Belle flew down from Tacoma, laden with textbooks but excited to see their cousins and extended family, if only for a whirlwind weekend. That whirlwind included an hour and 40 minute drive from the wedding/hotel area (Simi Valley) to Santa Ana, on the morning of the wedding, then the same drive back up to get ready for the 3 pm wedding…which left us a little less than an hour to visit with my mother. [2]
Mom’s poor health prevented her from attending the wedding, and at her age and with her many health concerns, you never know when will be the “last time” – if you know what I mean and I think you do – and so we’d arranged with her in-home caretaker for a time to visit. MH and I had alerted K and Belle as to what their grandma might or might not be able to do or say or remember. Her energy ebbs quickly and she might not be able to follow your conversation; even so, she’d appreciate you telling stories of college, etc. Just speak slowly and smile frequently.
It was a nice visit. Mom seemed to be in good (if sometimes oblivious) condition, but grinned nonstop. When it came time to leave and we were saying our goodbyes, MH bent down to give his MIL a hug and a kiss, and she grasped his arm and said, in all befuddled sincerity,
“Thank you for bringing your dark hair into this family.”
The dark hair MH brought into the family (although it’s typically not styled in a granny knot)
* * *
Department of Something I Was Not Supposed to See…
…and probably not photograph, but hey, being chosen as the TSA Precheck Golden Girl gives you a certain confidence. I’m just glad the flight attendants didn’t have cause to whip this one out.
* * *
Department of Nuptials
Moiself and weddings – meh. Wedding receptions, now you’re talking.
My adorable nephew and his equally adorable bride put on quite a party, complete with a custom crepe bar for dinner (yummers!). They also had a hosted bar, and music for hours of dancing…the latter no doubt facilitated by the former.
Bottoms up, y’all – Aunt Robyn wants us to do a Soul Train during the next song.
My nephew’s wedding ceremony, from my perspective – and that’s what this is blog all about, isn’t it? – wasn’t as tedious as many I have attended, and, if a Freethinker/Humanist/Skeptic/Atheist may say so, had the blessing of being mercifully, relatively brief. Sitting through the religious rite rhetoric, which can range from the presumptuous [3] to the mildly absurd to the downright abhorrent, can be a tooth-grinding, butt-frosting experience.
However, as we Happy Heathens and Awesome Apostates have discovered, religious ceremonies, particularly those which include Let us all bow our heads in prayer episodes, provide some primo people-watching opportunities. Those of us who do not bow our heads for anyone or anything pass the time by scanning the other attendees. It is interesting to speculate, via posture/body language and noting fellow open-eyed crowd scanners, as to who are our fellow dissenters. [4]
* * *
Department of Now, There’s a Scary Costume
“For Halloween you should go as the person you claim to be on Facebook.”
-Anonymous
* * *
Oh yeah, and boo to you – as in, Happy Halloween, y’all, and may the hijinks ensue.
Thanks for stopping by. Au Vendredi!
[1] There should be a link to a recording of uproarious, hyena-like laughter. Feel free to provide your own sound effects.
[2] Which is the only reason, sane or otherwise, to drive to Santa Ana.
[3] “Let us all beseech Jesus/father god to bless Bethany’s & Ichabod’s marriage…” Unless the invitations were Christian-only, y’all got other religions & non-believers in the crowd, Mr. Preacherman.
[4] Some of whom are “out,” and some…not quite yet.
