Here's a good tidbit

I'm in Phoenix now. I decide I'm going to cook dinner for the folks, but I need some items from the store. Like rice-mom has rice, but she has it already cooked and in the freezer. I have no idea whats she planning on doing with it. No wonder dad doesn't like rice!

So, upon returning from the store, about a block away from mom and dad's condo, there's an ambulance and a sheriff's car at an apartment building.

"Slow down!" Mom screams. So I slow the car down and mom is careening her neck to the building. "Do you see anyone?!"

"No, mom."

"Wait! Here comes the stretcher.. shoot! Turn around!"

"What?"

"Turn around! I want to to see if they bring anyone out."

"Mom, do you no anyone in that building?"

"No. I'm just being curious. Make a U-turn!"

So I turn - in the middle of the street - and we see the EMTs coming out with an empty stretcher.

"I bet someone hit his wife and she refused treatment. Mark my words."

So of course I say, "Now mom, how do you know that?"

AND she says, "Well, of course that's what happened. This is that type of neighborhood. Why else would they bring an empty stretcher?"

This is where we have all learned to just nod our head and say, Oh. OK.

The Joy of Finishing Time Off

No one meant any harm, I'm sure. My family is really not intentionally malicious, I don't think. But the best kept plans....


I'm just finishing up a stay with the family. I haven't seen them in many years. My brother has been at least ten years, and probably much much more. My sister has been maybe five years, and I think the same with my folks. Ahhh, my folks.


So I arrived in Phoenix the day after I was scheduled to arrive (Delta has the collective communication abilities of a kindergarten class. The short story is that they sent me to the wrong terminal to catch my flight, and when I asked when boarding was, they basically told me to sit down and shut up and read the screen. Maybe I'll write about that at some point. It's SO not the story!) Everything's great on arrival to Phoenix. I meet up with Mom and Dad, have dinner with some family friends and call it a night. Nice.

The next day, we hop in the car for a lovely and scenic drive to Colorado. Now, my dad has cataracts in his right eye and can't see out of his left, so the driving is going to be divided between Mom and me. Me as the primary driver, of course. Oh wait! I forgot to mention we had to pack up some food for the trip (we were staying in time shares) that was going to go bad if we didn't take it with us. Like the Jell-o with carrots and celery shavings in it (I told mother that I doubt anyone would eat it. "But it's healthy!" was her response.). And the leftover pasta with marinara sauce (or 'noodles with the red topping,' as we like to call it). Of course, the travel time is a day and a half, so the ice all melted into the leftovers, and we had to pat the 'food' with papers towels to try to absorb the water out of the noodles and Jell-o. It went uneaten, even after we salvaged it (!) with paper towels. Mom really tried to martyr that one - '(sigh)I guess I'll just throw this out. Are you SURE no one wants this?' Oh, and Dad's deaf, but I'm convinced that those 'hearing aids' he's adopted are actually ear plugs.

So I drive quite a few hours. It's a long, boring drive. And lots of U-turns. "BOB! That's your turn!" was a common scream en route. My navigator was less than effective, hence the U-turns. "What!?" was also a common scream. "Goddammit, Roy!" - another favorite.

After quite a bit, Mom says, "Let me drive." I'm thinking that this is OK; I need to rest my eyes and our goal is to go only maybe a couple of hours more to Santa Fe.

To say that Mom swerves while driving is like saying whales enjoy a nibble of krill now and again. A massive understatement. At first I thought it was just the wind catching the car causing it to veer. Just a gust of wind nudging the car into oncoming traffic, and Mother thankfully corrects this near catastrophe. Not the case. After the eighteenth near head-on, Dad yells, "Carol, what the Hell?!" Mom screams in reply, "Goddammit Roy, I'm cleaning my nails!"

Thirty-second swerve: "Mom, do you want me to drive?" "No! I just need to get a Kleenex out of my purse." (She keeps her purse on the floor under her feet when she drives. Just in case she needs to grab anything.)

Seventy-fifth: "Mom, really. Let me drive." "I'm fine! I thought that lady in the lane next to me was reading a magazine I wanted to pick up. I was trying to see the cover."

And to say that Mom tailgates is like saying George Bush doesn't care about black people. Another massive understatement. You know how angler fish have that glowing little worm thing that attracts the little fish to its mouth? Well, tail lights are like the angler fish to my mom's little fish, only this little fish has two other helpless fish in tow.

As I involuntarily grab the dashboard to prepare for the impact, mom says, "What is the matter with you?! I have the cruise control on!" as if the cruise control somehow corrects itself before collision. Maybe she has an idea that cruise control is sort of like the Autopilot in "Airplane!" and is going to drive the car safely into the passing lane. I don't know. That whole game of 'Guess what Mom is Thinking' has become a very old game for us siblings.

The next day I resume driving ("Why don't we stop in Albuquerque tonight instead of making it all the way to Santa Fe? I'm sure it'll be cheaper." That's how I got Mom to give up driving - just throw the $ sign at her.), and we stop for some gas. Mom says, "Bob, let me drive now." I said, "No. Why?"

"Because I feel like I'm going to fall asleep."

"WHAT!?! Then you REALLY aren't driving!"

"Oh, just keep me occupied. I'll be fine."

And this is just the flipping trip TO our destination! I thought it was my neo-conservative brother that was going to screw up everything.

Well, not him exclusively.