Just watching the folks, that’s all - me stuck with all the salary-men. A lone spot of color in a sea of suits.
“Did you ever see Dallas from a DC 9 at night?”
(Joe Ely and/or Flatlanders &c.)
Crickets at the airport. Half a doughnut and almost empty coffee urn at the ‘departure lounge,’ and why someone leaves half a doughnut behind?
How does that go?
I wonder if black T-shirts and gray power suits are the new look. And wasn’t the yellow tie, like, last year?
“Your father is driving himself to the hospital for his cataract surgery.”
But no one sees a problem with this?
“I’m getting my ears tested - I can’t always hear casual conversations.”
I’m wondering if this the result of all those years of marriage, and learning to tune out certain (background) noises.
“See, when you get older, you need more water. And when you swim, you lose water.” (Ma Wetzel)
“Mom? You pee in the pool?”
“And remember,” Ma Wetzel commanded, “don’t eat your spinach.”
No wonder, I’m a mess. “eat your spinach,” “don’t eat your spinach,” all the mixed messages? Mixed greens. No, no spinach. But I thought it was good for us.
And all those years, they told us not to pee in the pool.
Latino magazine - in English? And Cosmo in Spanish?
How about a magazine called Parenting, as if parenting was a hobby?
Then it was the computer store since “Mother Wetzel” needed a new printer. Simple task. Sort of. The guy who helped us was - I am not making this up - Maurice. Musical allusion. Dallas musical allusion.
Always a trip to the far side of reality, as far as I’m concerned. At the security check point, as I was slipping back into my sandals and dropping the laptop back into its bag, the three (female) security agents were talking about a guy, past his prime, who kept hitting on the girls. “Player, thinks a he’s a player,” and one has to imagine the combination drawl and urban/Texas twang, all convoluted into one. “Player.”
“It’s Dallas Love (Field), just trying to show the love,” one agent said. The other two smirked.
And for the conspiracy buff?
Floating along in Deep space?
Maybe so. Maybe not.
Laeti edimus qui nos subigant!
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