Gastown!
You should be right at home.
Before we begin our next installment,
a little house-cleaning is in order.
And I don't mean real house-cleaning, of course
Well tough…
The animals are still expecting to get paid.
(I am, however, married and therefore whipped.
You can disregard that whole "I'm a man!" comment.)
Never regarded it in the first place…
I know better.
But what I mean, in this instance, is a reference
that has been made a few times that many of you
were not privy to.
Is that a one story privy or the two story deluxe model?
But the joke's on her. I've already cleaned it.
Now who's the man?
Well. It’s certainly not…
Feel free to not answer that.
Seriously.
Ohhhhh, all right.
um.
Can anyone say "tangent!"
A straight line or plane that touches a curve or curved surface at a point, but if extended does not cross it at that point.
That’s the concept we’re ruminating at this juncture; the abstraction being pondered, as it were.
In other words, it’s the point when everything basically goes flying off the rails.
That last moment of contact with the previous reality and the instance where what was and what could be would collide were it possible for them to do so. Here’s a good demonstration of the notion…
See… it presents one with a new perspective… a “fresh challenge”. Of course the way in which we choose to deal with these new realities is completely subject to one’s own propensity to interpret the facts at hand. So each experience is relative as well.
And speaking of relative, it’s entirely possible that relativity isn’t quite as subjective as we think, and maybe it isn’t even applicable to this dissertation.
Maybe we need to test that theory as well…
Oh my bad, it seems that it is relative…
Good thing our scientists encountered that tangent or we might still be discussing these theoretical process and might never actually get back around to the telling of the story. And that would be a worrisome thing because it would mean that I’d gotten you off on another tangent again and I’d hate to have to bear the responsibility for such a potentially disastrous occurance.
Ok… I’m done here. You can carry on.
Oh wait!
“Tangent”.
There now I’m done.
For now…
I think...
The story was (briefly) mentioned on FB.
It was my first and (to date) only post there.
I missed that…
But I’m not certain where you might be lurking out there on The Book of the Face.
I’ve a suspicion, but no confirmation.
So herein I reveal the details.
Oh good, I can catch up with everyone else, then.
(And you are curious. I know. I can feel it.
Or maybe that's just the lasagne I ate. Whatever.)
Wait…
You brought lasagna…
And you didn’t being enough for all of us!
Side note?
Would this qualify as another one of them there tangent type thingies?
If you do a chore that first time... it will always be your chore.
"Honey, could you take out the garbage?"
It's a trap!
Shall I regale you with the story
of the first meal she cooked for me?
I shall.
Oh look!
Another one of those – what’ch ya’ call ‘em – dang, the word is right on the tip of my tongue.
I was younger, so... you know. Stupider.
We know…
(Please note I said "Stupider". I'm still stupid. Of course.)
We know…
Back to our story that has nothing to do with
this part of the TR that has nothing to do with the main TR.
Cool!
This is almost like a Bonus Feature, then.
Chicken and spaghetti.
Want the recipe? Sure.
Take some chicken, chop. Throw in pan with spices.
What spices? I don't care. Pick something.
Cook. Add tomato sauce. Serve over spaghetti.
Sounds lame, but it tastes okay.
Sounds similar in concept to what in my house is referred to as “Fake Parm”.
My best dish? Well, no. But easy? Yep. Quick? Yep.
and that’s the precise merits of Fake Parm.
but give her an inch and she'll take an unlimited license to
procrastinate until there's no way it'll ever get done.
And this sound’s mysteriously like a teen.
(Takes after her Father. I couldn't be more proud.
Just don't tell Ruby. It drives her nuts. So do I.)
We never figured you for someone that would actually grow up, so this checks out as well.
Now I'm not completely heartless.
(Mostly, yes. But not completely.)
Nice little bit of clarification, there.
A bit like the disclaimers tagged onto the end of a pharmaceutical advertisement.
What was even odder...
is "odder" a word? Seems... well... odd.
Oh, sure. I can use it in a sentence.
"That d'er motor's gonna blow. You odder get it fixed."
or
"Mommy! In the water! An odder is swimming by!"
Works.
I love your stories…
Each one of is better than the next.
She spilled the sauce on her shirt, her pants,
the inside of the fridge (three levels! bonus points!),
the inside and side of the fridge door, the top and outside
of the freezer door and thankfully, to complete the ensemble,
the inside of the freezer.
I'm still not sure how she managed that last one.
The girlz got skilz.
(Thankfully she wasn't wearing her band clothes at the time.
Her white shirted band clothes.)
Yep…
Band Clothes and chicken spaghetti aren’t particularly compatible.
Come to think of it, I believe that band clothes are actually an attractive force for chicken spaghetti. It’s one of Earth’s more fascinating natural occurrences.
The dishes were still sitting there waiting for me.
Waiting?
Son, let’s be clear hear. Those dishes were mocking you.
Having kids to help with the chores
sounds great in theory.
Practical application is a whole other story.
It’s another one of those relativity type of things…
Maybe we should test that one farther as well.
I’ll turn it over to our crack theory testing duo.
washing dishes, I do believe
Ah! Right.
The suitcases had just been eaten at the airport.
Hopefully we'd see them again in Vancouver.
And hopefully they won’t be covered in tomato sauce.
The competition was at the River Rock Casino Resort.
Which made perfect sense.
Of course...
Kids – Casino – it’s a natural fit.
Just ask the cruising industry.
and Kay drew the short straw and had the pullout in the living room.
You say short straw, maybe she was thinkin’: yeah, but I don’t gott’a share with anybody.
It then offered me a bunch of expensive add ons.
Wow… it is like Disney.
We hustled over to the gate and...
Well just look who’s running this ramshackle outfit…
No wonder the plane ain’t there yet.
But I did tell her that her cookie would have to go,
so I reached for it.
She bit me.
Your own fault there…
you should have known better
And Ruby decided that since I was sick,
we shouldn't subject me to strangers any more than necessary.
Wrong answer…
Shouldn’t have been subjecting family to such.
The strangers were foolish enough to get on the plane in the first place.
And thus prevented me from fulfilling a life-long dream.
Sort-of.
But I'll get to that later.
You sure about that…
You’re missing a fine opportunity to go off on a tangent, here.
Eventually, a young couple came and sat down.
They each had a padded cage with them.
Not relatives of Jack Hanna, I hope.
Things could get very interesting very quickly.
Also known as: Making an “S” out of yourself.
"If the plane is about to crash
and we're all going to die horrible deaths,
please don your oxygen masks which will keep you
in your seats so identifying the bodies will be easier."
Sound’s perfectly reasonable to me.
Of course then they tell you that the stupid
oxygen bag may not even inflate,
so you can't even amuse your fellow passengers
by slamming your hands together on it making a loud
exploding sound when the bag pops.
It’s all just a distraction anyway.
While you’re grumbling about that stuff, you forget to complain about the prices required to obtain a bag of stale peanuts
Totally takes the fun out of dying.
And we wouldn’t want that.
Plus.
No smoking in the bathroom.
But everybody knows that smoking ain't allowed on planes.
…or in school.
At least that’s what the members of Brownsville Station would have us believe.
(or Motley Crue for you younger folks that had no clue they were covering an older tune)
And that brings up another point…
It seems that the lyric of that tune was the result of “everybody's gettin' on your case, from your teacher all the way down to your best girlfriend”
“Best Girlfriend”?
What, he had bunches of them?
Kind’a like your harem, I suppose.
Or was it a comparison over time.
Just imagine what his “case” would’a looked like when his worst girlfriend took to stompen’ on it.
I just wonder what kind of vice he’d have turned to in that moment.
That might have made for a rather different song, now wouldn’t it?
Sorry, what were you talking about?
Oh, riiiiiight…
That’s it.
Well then you might as well light one up.
Doesn't that just smack of favoritism for the sharks
as opposed to the bottom feeding crabs and such?
The sharks have better agents.
Wait. They have to make sure that if there
are any French speaking people on the plane
that they are just as terrified as the rest of us.
The nerve!
Were this Disney, then they just say:
“por favor mantengase alejado de las puertas”,
and be done with it.
Everyone's TV was working.
Except for four.
Our four.
That was written into the fine print of that VIP-Bus package you purchased a while back.
It’s one of the off sets they use to defray the costs.
At least Ruby could watch whatever Jack Hanna’s grandkids were watching.
But I must also note at this point that apparently it’s been a looooong while since I’ve last flown on an airplane, because I can’t say as I’ve ever seen where every seat had its own screen in the first place.
I remember that there was one overhead for about every five rows.
And that it didn’t work either.
That… I remember.
Pretty soon, the flight attendants starting serving drinks and snacks.
I told her about our TVs not working.
She claimed to not be aware of an entire row being broken.
Really, what else could she say?
"Ha! I know! Sucks to be you!"
Actually, that would've been pretty funny.
Well, not at the time
But most certainly later on as you were regaling us with the blow by blow details in some other venue like – say – a TR or some other such atrocity.
Ruby and I declined, but the monst... uh, kids…
It’s all right…
For the most part, we’re all parents ‘round these parts.
You can speak the truth.
Around this time, Ruby's seatmates decided to check on their animals.
They pulled out the cages and opened the doors.
Good Lord! What sort of evil fiends are they transporting?
Ooooooo…. Hasenpfeffer!
Kay is animal crazy.
She loves anything that moves that isn't human.
Good, then you might not have to worry about her and boyfriends for a while yet.
Do you have any idea how long I've waited
to be that close to a bunny????
I think this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part.
And you’re just the guy to do it.
I then place myself near, but slightly downstream from
the barf chute.
Barf Chute?
Nice… I like that one.
It was like a Christmas miracle at the orphanage.
Bless their hearts….
I knew, from that trip, that the best way to get
from here to there, was via the SkyTrain.
(Vancouver's answer to the monorail.)
And a direct cousin of the of the Fake-o-Rail
Or. If you happen to know this.
You can go one level down to the 7Eleven
and get a booklet of 10 tickets for $21.
Now there’s a handy bit of information to have.
Best not be sharing that trick with too many others though…
You wouldn’t want the Airport bean counters to figure it out.
"Can I get a 10 pack of FareSaver tickets." I asked.
"Sorry. We don't sell those anymore." She replied.
Too late…
Turns out the cheapest way (and fastest, too!)
is to take a cab.
"$20 flat rate." One of them said.
So that's what we did.
Even with tip, it was still cheaper than the train.
So, avoid the fake-o-rail…
Ok, got it!
All the memories from Elle's first competition
came flooding back.
Was it anything like the scene back there at the airport baggage-go-round?
And I remembered how it had been a travesty.
Oh, I see it was actually the adults that were acting like yard-apes that time.
Human mayhem seems to be a reoccurring theme for you in Vancouver.
"How would you like an upgrade to the Penthouse Suite?"
Now that makes up for a lot of the days challenges.
Easily the second nicest hotel room we'd ever stayed in.
Really…
You just gonn’a leave it there?
In an update dedicated to the proposition that there is no side trip too small or insignificant to be a factor in dissuading you from offering up an additional six paragraph elaboration, you’re just gonn’a leave it at that?
Diabolical, sir…
Truly diabolical.
It was right around here that I remembered something.
Oh sure…
You’ll interrupt the story to head off down that rabbit hole, but…
But…
Hummm… Rabbit… hasenfef…
Errr….
Wait, what were you talking about?
Noodles?
Are you sure that was it?
Well, Ok… sounds tasty, actually.
Nah... throat's not that bad.
Not great... but not bad.
Blatant foreshadowing, eh?
Plus... bubbles.
Some of them were even from the jets.
Tol-dja…
I knew you’d be at home in that town.
Around 1:00am, I bolted up in bed.
I couldn't breathe!
My throat was on fire!!
Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!
Contest!
1. Do we make our original scheduled flight?
Yes
2. When we do get going, name one movie I watched.
Need’s to be something semi-recent and probably not R rated…
Oh, and just maybe something Disney…
Inside Out
3. Where do we eat breakfast?
Timmy’s!!!!
4. Did you see it? Bonus points if you did.
No? Might want to look again.
Well I just hope you chose a different airline for the rest of the trip.
And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.
5. What's our first real meal in Hawaii.
(Hint. Ruby did not partake.)
Hummm, trying to remember what she dislikes.
Seafood, perchance?