It is day 2 of my vacation. The plan is to leisurely bum around the I-drive area, then to meet Mom at the airport around 4. At the airport we’ll pick up a rental car and head for Tampa to visit an old friend.
10:00 AM – I arise and head to the coffee shop for a yogurt and some coffee.
11:00 AM – I check out, store my bags in the business area, arrange for a shuttle to pick me up at 3 and take me to the airport.
11:30 AM – I decide I’ll head to the other end of I-drive, find some lunch, do a little shopping. I’ll pick up a trolley pass.
11:45 – While waiting for the trolley I realize I haven’t turned on my phone yet. I’ll turn it on and see if anyone has called.
11:46 – 3 voice mails and 1 text message. Hmmmm….what is going on?
Now, before I continue, let me paint you a picture of my Mom. She is paradoxically one of the most intelligent and one of the most ditzy people you’ll ever meet. Great intelligence and extreme ditziness make for an interesting companion, because only a ditzy person can get you into the situations she gets you in, and only an intelligent person can make those situations even worse.
Imagine if you will: a tall strong, blonde woman who is the only math teacher in town who is clever enough to control the “bad kids” class, smart enough to figure out how to teach them math, and ditzy enough to somehow work string art sailboats on velvet backgrounds into the math curriculum. Imagine someone who is capable of raising a child, and obtaining her Master’s Degree at a university 60 miles away from home, while working full-time, who drives home with her bumper in her trunk. Imagine a person who is smart enough to retire early on a single person’s salary, after putting her kid through a private college, and gets grandma mired in a sand-pit, in 90 degree (F) weather by the drug-store while taking Grandma for a “test run” in her Little Rascal scooter. (Grandma’s comment about that day is “Well, I thought, ‘at least we’ll die laughing’.)
Back to the present: The three phone calls are from Mom. Each increasingly panicked.
Call 1 – She has missed her flight and can’t get another one for 2 more days. Call her.
Call 2 – Where are you? Call her!
Call 3 – I don’t know what you are doing, but you’ve been fired this week and now I’ve ruined your vacation!! Call me.
The text message is from Hubby – straight to the point “Call your Mom. She’s done something nutty again.”
I call Mom and here is what happened. She scheduled the flight online. She filled out the form saying they should contact her by email and not by phone. She is contacted by email about a flight time change. She thinks the email is an ad and doesn’t read it. She misses her flight.
I tell her all is cool. It doesn’t affect my plans any. I’ll pick up the rental car. I’ll visit my friend. I’ll pick her up on Monday. “No,” I tell her, “This hasn’t ruined my life.” In fact, all I can think is “This is the perfect uninspirational event for today’s blog.”
**Sidenotes: a few other things about my day
1) I did a side-by-side taste test of rock shrimp vs. boat shrimp. The boat shrimp are the regular shrimp you see around. Pink and long and kinda skinny. The rock shrimp have really hard shells and are more lobster-like in flavor. According to this guy I met, who is apparaently crazy about shrimp (or, perhaps, just crazy), I was very lucky to have the chance to try the rock shrimp as many cooks have not figured out how to cut them well enough through the hard shell to broil them in this fine preparation I was enjoying. Also, apparently, it may well be the last day that I’d be able to enjoy these shrimp, as they were running out of them at the shop. He then proceeded to order 3 dozen rock shrimp and gobble them down, only stopping to mumble things like “such a treat” and “what a fine day.” I agree with him, the rock shrimp win hands down over the pink shrimp.
2) I visited the Vans Skate Park. This is an indoor, pretty big and nice skate park. The coolest thing was most of the skaters there were 7-10 year old girls. Hey, little girls!! You rock! Ooooo…ouch…well, I guess she didn’t need that arm anyway.
3) I visited the hugest surf store I’ve ever seen. There was a guy there playing steel drums and Dr. Zogs Sex Wax everywhere. I’m a surfer lurker. As a landlocked little girl, I grew up listening to surf punk music, wearing surf punk clothes, and watching my brother shred himself (literally) on his skate-board which is as close as one can get to surfing in Nevada. Now I listen to hawaiian slack key guitar, wear surfer shorts, and watch my brother shred himself (literally) wind-surfing. However, due to an extreme fear of sharks (more on that later) I will never ever surf. BUT, I will frequent surf shops as often as possible. Being a surfer lurker is very uninspiring, but in a cool kind of way.
4) I met a guy from Iowa and he couldn’t believe my Mom missed her flight. He was selling fixtures at the local home and garden show.
5) I met some folks from Toronto. They told me that people in Ottowa skate to work in their business clothes holding their briefcases. Oh…and they couldn’t believe my Mom missed her flight.
6) I managed to rent the car and head to Tampa. The woman at the Hertz counter couldn’t believe Mom missed her flight!