I’ll be the first to admit that I just do not understand what is going on inside the talking heads up there in Washington. But I am at even more of a loss than usual these days. This ridiculous government shut down nonsense is simply beyond the pale. I would give me left arm to be a fly on the wall in the room where “they” decide what is essential and what is non–essential as far as government services are concerned.
I’ll bet good money that the government-funded barber shops, restaurants, and private health care for the bigwigs up there in Washington are buzzing along, business as usual. Yet our tax dollars are now spent to shut down national monuments that are just sitting there in the open air and not even manned to begin with. People have been arrested people for hiking in the Grand Canyon. I am shocked and appalled. How on earth or what kind of bizarre disconnect from reality, does it take for a government officials to decide they have the right to close a canyon, for God’s sake??? It is one of the wonders of the natural world. Our national parks, which people come from all over the world to see, are closed. What kind of message does this send to our neighbors on this planet?
I’m concerned that we are rapidly becoming the laughing-stock of the civilized world. As a rather cantankerous grandmother, sometimes I think that our elected officials up there in Washington all need a stern do better talk, a good spanking and all sent to bed without their supper until they stop bickering, learn to work together and do what it is that we hired them to do…which is run our government in an efficient, humane and prosperous way, as they solemnly promised to do when elected.
Right now it reminds me more of school yard shenanigans where boys get in a snit because everyone won’t play by their rules so they snatch up their toys and go home. We the people, who purchased their toys in the first place, are not getting our money’s worth by any stretch of the imagination.
I have to admit that I am more outraged than usual by the absurd twists and turns in our nation’s capital. It hit Mr. Husband and I personally because we had plans with a group of 10 to go to Gettysburg this week and receive a day and half private tour by the director of a documentary which will come out soon on the PBS television station. This came about because a friend of ours was one of the people to fund the documentary. But now we can’t do it and our trip is cancelled because the Gettysburg National Cemetery is CLOSED.
Last week I was offered the unprecedented opportunity to hitch a ride on a friend’s private jet heading to Seattle. My response was “hell yeah, count me in!” It was quite luxurious, but I’m afraid it sort of ruined me for regular commercial air travel.
Mr. Hubman dropped me off at the friend’s house to ride with him and his girlfriend to the local private airport. Holy Cow, this guy in full driver gear including a chauffer’s hat shows up in a limo, loads our bags in the car, held our hand while we entered the vehicle and delivers us to the tarmac right at the foot of the stairs to the plane.
Then another bevy of men surrounded us, helped us out of the car and escorted us onto the plane. Some of them took our baggage out of the car and loaded it directly into the cargo hold of the plane. We didn’t have to lift a finger. The jet was an eight seater which consisted of 8 leather captain’s chairs, which swiveled so we could sit around and face each other like we were in a living room just hanging out.
We did not have to haul our luggage into the airport, stand in line for an hour to check bags, stand in line for another hour just to get violated by overzealous TSA scrutiny or any of the other facts of life when flying via commercial transportation. From the time we entered the airport until the time we were in the air was a grand total of 15 minutes.
As I sat there sipping wine and enjoying cheese, crackers and fruit, I thought “I could get used to this. What a life.” This is probably not going to be a regular part of my life, but I sure enjoyed every minute of it while we were traveling.
When we took off it wasn’t like a commercial plane where the plane lumbers, rattles and lurches its way up into the air and takes 30 minutes to get to a cruising altitude. This jet took off and went straight up. It was a good thing we were wearing a 3 point harness instead of the usual pitiful excuse for a seat-belt. In about 5 minutes we were up at a cruising altitude of somewhere above 40,000 feet, which is well above commercial air traffic.
Being up that high there is pretty much no turbulence at all. The little monitor that the copilot set up for us indicated that we were traveling at almost 600 mph, which equates to .88 of Mach speed. It was an interesting tidbit of knowledge to know that we were almost at the sound barrier. I was tempted to yell “faster, faster!”
The trip to Seattle took less than 3 hours as opposed to the 8 hours it took me to get home yesterday via Southwest Airlines, with a plane delay and a layover in Albuquerque, New Mexico – an airport which apparently rolls up the sidewalks at 8:00 pm. There was nothing open except a tiny bar where they were announcing last call. I grabbed a quickie gin and tonic before the final leg of the trip.
So I’m spoiled now to commercial flying, but so what? I’m not going to pass up an opportunity to do something that may be a once in a life time event just because it may never happen to me again. That would just be downright silly.
The beat goes on, the beat goes on
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da
Grandmas sit in chairs and reminisce
Boys keep chasing girls to get a kiss
The cars keep going faster all the time
Bums still cry “hey buddy, have you got a dime” Sonny & Cher
Took a night off and went with a girlfriend to see the band Little Feat. I had to make myself go. Didn’t want to. I wanted to stay home isolating and obsessing about my grandson. I’m glad I did now. We had a blast and I would have felt like crap backing out on my friend. This outing was on her bucket list.
Mr. Husband and grandson made it through one evening without me. Imagine that. Have to keep reminding myself that I’m not the master of the universe. It just rocks on without my interference and meddling. Probably better. When I got home they were both in bed and the house hadn’t burned down. Saints be praised!
I need to jump back in the pool of life now. Hiding in my bedroom isn’t doing me any good. I start looking like a mushroom on a bad hair day. That’s always been my weakness. Maybe I was a gangster in another life? When I get stressed out I “go to the mattress.” Probably not the same as the guys in the Godfather movie did it.
Feed like I’m swimming through molasses, everything is in slow motion. One day seems a week-long.
It’s not helping that Mr. Husband and his mother are locked in a control freaking sumo death match. She is using the contractor that we used and is remodeling her bathroom. She calls 15 times a day in a tizzy. She asks for Mr. Husband for advice, he gives it and then they argue about it. SUCKER! I find screaming, yelling and condescending tones of voice extremely upsetting. I’m trying to stay out of it as much as possible.
My Ipod headphones died along with every other scrap of tech gear on the train trip back in may. Going to replace those today and plug them in when the caller ID shows that hub-man’s Mama-san is calling.
Well that’s what I’d like to know! I saw myself in the mirror this morning, so there is proof I’m still here. Sometimes I’m afraid to ask questions like this for fear people will talk to me in that soft kindly voice reserved for crazy people.
Have this weird feeling like I fell between the sofa cushions, found something interesting in there and stayed for a week and a half. When finally coming out I’d only been gone 5 minutes. Been reading a lot, watching oddball Sci fi movies that no one fessed up to having heard of. Dreaming all kinds of weird dreams. According to my husband crawfish is a feature in some of them. Well I do love them. Maybe it’s just a hankering to visit New Orleans soon.
I resurfaced because they are demolishing my bathroom today. Probably be a good idea to be available for questions. Although now that I have my iPhone couldn’t I just hide in the closet while they take pictures and send them to me? Not sure why I’m feeling like such a recluse these days. Maybe I’m saving up my social energy for traveling.
Note the lovely avocado green tile. It will not be missed. Neither will the toilet that never stops running. It’s going to look so nice. Almost worth staying in town to see it happen.
When : Always March 11th : HolidayInsights.com
There are few things that the male population worships more than his tools. To some, a tool is a natural extension of their arm or other appendages. So, Worship of Tools Day is a logical day of celebration. And, it’s definitely a guy thing. Please note however, there are more than a few ladies who love to work with their hands, and find today to be an important holiday.
Song of the Day: If I Had a Hammer
Mr Husband and I have a ton of tools between us, but we rarely use them. I have my very own drill, saw and sander. Used to use them too. Not anymore. Anything needs doing? Call Mr. Martin – he can do anything. He installed the customized DVD shelves in the closet that hub-mans collection outgrew over the years.
It’s amazing what men can do with tools. I can hang a picture, maybe a shelf or 2 but cut tile with a saw? I don’t think so. I gave that thing in the picture above a wide berth. The workman packed it up and took it away today. I guess they are finished. Paint and fixtures next on the agenda.
Man started making tools about 2 million years ago. And have been fascinated with them ever since. Tools and sex obviously go together. Though, why this woman is wearing ballet shoes is a mystery. Some part of the symbolism I’m missing. I’ll have to ask Hub-man what that means to him.
Researchers are constantly debating the chicken or the egg conundrum when it comes to tools. It seems the development of language skills and tools have paralleled through history. The same part of the brain is used for both skills. That brings us from the Neanderthal clubbing his women and dragging her off to his cave to the modern man. “Hey baby, hop in my fancy Corvette and I’ll drag you off to my cave.”