On the Road - Again
Why "Senior Jeopardy" will never be a hit: Contestant to the M.C., "Hold on a second, there, Alan. Wait just a dad gum minute. It's right on the tip of my tongue. It was, ah,...ah...Could you repeat the question, I mean, the answer?"
We went traveling again, this time all the way to Utah, where it's so dry that sandwiches shrivel up before you can even get them to your mouth. Still, there are things worth noting there, though in no special order of importance.
We have a two year-old granddaughter there. She isn't much bigger than one of those economy-sized geese that fly around here each year, but when she's unhappy she can let out a shriek that can just about paralyze you. She's not even crying. It has the effect of making her almost radioactive in terms of me wanting to offer comfort. If she cuts loose while I'm holding her, I may not survive, or at least wished I hadn't. No doubt she'll grow out of it, and of course she has good moments, too. Just don't confuse her mood, because that could be brutal.
One morning on our trip was given to go to the local weekend farmer's market. Because of the early date, there wasn't a much on hand that actually came from farms, but the shady location was great and the crowd wasn't overwhelming. The sellers were international in a good way: taco-istas, items from Africa, Thailand and other places. A booth featuring upscale birdhouses turned out to be operated by business students taking a course in entrepreneurship. We agreed on the need for a course that deals with crazy bosses. I asked a guitar player how much to hear his version of Hotel California only to be told he didn't know it. I kind of thought that a farmers market taking place in a community in which Republicans outnumber Democrats about 12 to 1 would be different from others somehow, but no parties were represented. Perhaps they've come to view the imbalance as so great as to be permanent. Maybe the election's just too far off. I was wise, I think, to pass on the tie-dye t-shirts. My torso's almost big enough to make them look like another planet.
Another grandchild, the first of four born to different family branches during 2004, has just learned to ride a bike. He'll be great with a little practice since he lives on a wide street with light traffic. We were careful not to mention that he has a younger cousin who's been riding for over a year. They're both far ahead of me at the same age. My father purposely bought a bike that was too big for me because he thought age eight was too early to learn. We did live on a steep hill at the time.
Finally, I've noticed over the years that expectant moms react differently to this condition. Some are noticeably slowed and experience sickness and pain in places they had never had discomfort before. Others seem so excited with the whole prospect that they seem to fairly glow. We met one of the latter category, a great niece from another branch of the wife's large extended family whose duty this year is to gestate twins through the hot Utah summer while her husband continues his medical education. If she had glowed any more intensely, we would have all had to put on sunglasses. Things could be different this time next year, of course, but let's hope all four of the family are glowing then, and that they never stop.
We went traveling again, this time all the way to Utah, where it's so dry that sandwiches shrivel up before you can even get them to your mouth. Still, there are things worth noting there, though in no special order of importance.
We have a two year-old granddaughter there. She isn't much bigger than one of those economy-sized geese that fly around here each year, but when she's unhappy she can let out a shriek that can just about paralyze you. She's not even crying. It has the effect of making her almost radioactive in terms of me wanting to offer comfort. If she cuts loose while I'm holding her, I may not survive, or at least wished I hadn't. No doubt she'll grow out of it, and of course she has good moments, too. Just don't confuse her mood, because that could be brutal.
One morning on our trip was given to go to the local weekend farmer's market. Because of the early date, there wasn't a much on hand that actually came from farms, but the shady location was great and the crowd wasn't overwhelming. The sellers were international in a good way: taco-istas, items from Africa, Thailand and other places. A booth featuring upscale birdhouses turned out to be operated by business students taking a course in entrepreneurship. We agreed on the need for a course that deals with crazy bosses. I asked a guitar player how much to hear his version of Hotel California only to be told he didn't know it. I kind of thought that a farmers market taking place in a community in which Republicans outnumber Democrats about 12 to 1 would be different from others somehow, but no parties were represented. Perhaps they've come to view the imbalance as so great as to be permanent. Maybe the election's just too far off. I was wise, I think, to pass on the tie-dye t-shirts. My torso's almost big enough to make them look like another planet.
Another grandchild, the first of four born to different family branches during 2004, has just learned to ride a bike. He'll be great with a little practice since he lives on a wide street with light traffic. We were careful not to mention that he has a younger cousin who's been riding for over a year. They're both far ahead of me at the same age. My father purposely bought a bike that was too big for me because he thought age eight was too early to learn. We did live on a steep hill at the time.
Finally, I've noticed over the years that expectant moms react differently to this condition. Some are noticeably slowed and experience sickness and pain in places they had never had discomfort before. Others seem so excited with the whole prospect that they seem to fairly glow. We met one of the latter category, a great niece from another branch of the wife's large extended family whose duty this year is to gestate twins through the hot Utah summer while her husband continues his medical education. If she had glowed any more intensely, we would have all had to put on sunglasses. Things could be different this time next year, of course, but let's hope all four of the family are glowing then, and that they never stop.
posted by Mark at 3:19 PM
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