“And maybe I didn’t hold you, all those lonely, lonely times, I guess I never told you I am so happy that you’re mine. Little things I should have said and done, I just never took the time. You were always on my mind.”
You Were Always on My Mind – Willy Nelson
Welcome to Drivel Over Coffee. You are an esteemed member of the only group who proudly dribble our French Roast down our shirt while Driveling about our fate in life. Sometimes our view of life becomes slightly skewed while looking through dog licked glasses.
Full Circle I-
I’ve been to Las Vegas and back since we met last. Left on Thursday and came back on Sunday. Flying by the trusty old Allegiant Airlines. Trusty in that we got there and back. We made the full circle right on schedule. Let me tell you that the airport in Las Vegas is something else. Our flight home departed at 7:35 am. Our rental car was returned at 5:00 am. You would think the place would be deserted. Far from it. Check-in to our gate we stood in one line after another. Check-in had hundreds of people snaking back and forth through serpentine lines. It was so packed that they opened an overflow area out on the sidewalk which is the line we opted for.
Next we hustled to security. It was, in my aged state, about 4 miles away. In reality, maybe a few hundred yards or so and up a floor. Bingo, another line. First, was the one where they make sure you are breathing and paperwork looks good. Next we enter the serpentine gauntlet leading up to the stern looking TSA Agents. Why is it everyone wants to be the first to go through only to have to wait to board? Being a wide body helps here. I would place myself strategically; creating a blocking move for the rest of the family to get through. Worked great.
It has been a number of years since my last flight. Apparently, seating accommodations have become snugger. I don’t think it has anything to do with the excess carry-on baggage around my stomach and waist though. I was worried at one point that I would have to pay extra for my “carry-on’. Shoot they charge for everything else. During my flight home, I had a need to use the facilities. I was in row 16. A restroom was in front, ahead of row 1. I had a need but someone would beat me to it. The seat belt light was lit for most of the flight. I was informed by a nerdy steward that standing in the aisle to wait for the rest room was not permitted while the seat belt light was on. I was instructed to return to my seat. A few more times I was exiting my seat only to see someone in front of me make a dash to the restroom so I sat back down. Things were becoming increasingly urgent for me, bordering on leaving an involuntary wet trail on the carpet leading to the restroom. People in rows 1 through 15 became aware that I REALLY needed to go. They sat on their own urges to let me relieve mine. Whew, very nice.
Once inside the restroom, I immediately understood why it would be good to be a ballerina. You only have room for your feet in one spot. To turn, you have to pirouette on your toes to turn around. Ideally, a person should open the door and back in. That way you are oriented properly for sitting. I finished my business having taken a bit longer than normal due to the amount of my backed “urgency”. I noticed while seated a button that would flush the toilet. Dang button was really sensitive. I ran my finger over it to see if it had braille on it and it flushed. Now I don’t know if it was the near perfect seal between my undersides and the toilet or what but good lord, I thought I would be sucked down through this thing. It scared me as you can imagine. I jumped up and without thinking stooped over grabbing for my pants and banged my forehead on the coat hook on the door. I must have made quite a noise either from thudding into the door or the blood curdling scream that I let out because Mister Nerdy Steward tapped the door and asked if I was okay. I was VERY tempted to fling the door open letting a picture convey the answer. A 70-year-old fat man, standing with his pants around his ankles, flabby belly overhanging, a knot on the forehead from the coat hanger and water dripping from flushing backsplash. Would that answer his question? Instead, I growled and cleaned up the mess. Never again.
Full Circle II –
What’s that? Oh, what was I doing in Las Vegas in the first place? Technically, it wasn’t Las Vegas, it was Henderson, Nevada, a suburb. My NFD got married. Oh, NFD stands for New Found Daughter. This is a long story but we got together after 52 years. We have come full circle it would seem. So many memories were created. The wedding was wonderful. Jenny, the elder; Debby, the younger elder, my current wife and I were welcomed into the circle of family and friends with open arms. Congrats to my NFD and our NFIL (New Found In-Law). I met my grandkids, Five O and Johnny W, Boone, his wife, Kit and great grandson, LG (Little Guy). I interrogated all of them for quite some time. My conclusion; they are keepers. LG and didn’t talk much just looked at each other. He is only about 5 months old. We packed a lot into a few shorts days that is for sure. It was tiring but wonderful also. My NFD & NFIL certainly went above and beyond for sure.
Full Circle III –
While there, I saw a little old lady walking down the street dragging two large plastic garbage bags behind her. One of the bags was ripped and every once in a while, a $20 fell out onto the sidewalk. Naturally, I began to follow collecting $20’s along the way. Noticing this, a policeman stopped her, and said, “Ma’am, there are $20 bills falling out of that bag.” “Oh, really? Darn it!” said the little old lady. “I’d better go back and see if I can find them. Thanks for telling me officer.” Hearing this, I stepped beside a big bush.
Well, now, not so fast,” said the cop. Where did you get all that money? You didn’t steal it, did you?” “Oh, no, no”, said the old lady. “You see; my back yard is right next to a Golf course. A lot of Golfers come and pee through a knot hole in my fence, right into my flower garden. It used to really send me off. Kills the flowers, you know. Then I thought, ‘why not make the best of it? So, now, I stand behind the fence by the knot hole, real quiet, with my hedge clippers. Every time some guy sticks his thing through my fence, I surprise him, grab hold of it and say, ‘O.K., buddy! Give me $20, or off it comes.’
“Well, that seems only fair,” said the cop, laughing. “OK. Good luck! Oh, by the way, what’s in the other bag?” “Not everybody pays.”
“It’s not that I can and others can’t, it’s I did and others didn’t.” Remember your Vietnam Veterans – All gave some, some gave all!! If I can make at least one-person smile, or laugh till they leak, then my day was not wasted.