Vacation notes....or, "What I did for a week away from work in 129,000 easy steps"

Act
August 29th, 0800:

We left the homestead, with DDB (Double DingBat) managing the the property. We're on our way to IAD!

0840: Called PopPop to check on his status. He's turning around because Mimi forgot her medication. Argh! No worries, we have plenty of time. We plan to meet at my office in Reston VA. and the flight doesn't leave until 1150. My daughter has had suspicions about this for a week or so now. It's damned difficult to keep anything from children that involves this much preparation. Couple that with her insane amount of intelligence and you have a recipe for discovery.
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0925 Breakfast is served. All is well. Mimi and PopPop arrive shortly thereafter.

0945 The cars arrive to shuttle us to the Airport.

::::nini rant::::


Our foray into the bowels of Dulles Airport include passing through the wonderful oxy-moronic conflagration called Security. The sublimely indifferent and obviously shallow TSA officials, err, worker drones blather on every few seconds about HAND CHECK...BAG CHECK, NO ALARMS..... What??? No one arrives. Our items are waiting there on the table, waiting to be nuked and examined and summarily ignored.

5 more minutes have passed...

Why, dear god, WHY can't people pay attention to the simple directions given them? When the TSA folks tell you to take your laptop out of the bag, please, for the love of god take it out! One droll yet ignorant looking person comes back through the metal detector to take his laptop out of the bag after it passed into the X-Ray machine. He gets the stink eye from me...


Still no movement. Indifference abounds. It's a palpable feeling. One that permeates your very being and causes fits of spastic rage. Ok, thats not exactly true but it was beginning to piss me off a bit.

We finally begin to move forward, our parcels are heading into the Nuclear Pizza Oven to be scanned and prodded while carefree non-English speaking or personnel entrusted with the safety of this great nation, who may or may not have a GED are poised to stick their grubby paws into our belongings. Oh, did I mention PopPop has had 2 operations to replace his right knee? Yep, thats right kids, he will set off every metal detector from Dulles to Atlanta. And, that very same TSA which refuses to profile takes aside a 69 year old man with Chicken legs and begins to "wand" him.

1025 We're through security and making our way to the infield terminal somewhere near Leesburg. We still have plenty of time to get something to eat. PopPop is behaving oddly. He's at the age where he's like old worn out socks. The more you walk around the more they fall down. He just kept tripping over everything. He was overheard making the comment that "They don't respect old people."


1150-1340: The flight....from hell.
I had the presence to pre-select our seats and we have the whole row to ourselves. My daughter is sitting on the opposite side next to Mimi and the wife and I are all alone on the left.

It starts out innocently enough. A young girl of 3 is kicking the seat. We strike up a quick conversation with her mother and we find out they're staying at the same resort we are. Great....I can barely contain my enthusiasm. The condensed version follows.

Her son is next to her now playing with the airflow. My wife and I are trying to snooze for a few minutes and having no luck. Did I mention he was kicking the seat? Yep, he did more of that too.

We're making the final approach into Orlando and someone farts. Badly. The cabin fills and we're being slowly asphyxiated. Jesus it stinks and I start making comments about it. Even my parents are victims to the odors and we have an idea who it is. I want off this plane.

Cut to the resort. We need provisions so off we go. Did I also mention that PopPop is directionally challenged? Left is right, right is left, etc... So, we make our way to WaMart aka WalNuts. We need various sundries, mayo, ketchup, mustard and other items. However, we're only there for a week. So, here's the exchange:

Me: "Why bother with jars of mayo, etc..? Lets take some packets of stuff ad save some money?"

PopPop: "Good idea. Fran, open your purse."

We stuff the packets into her purse and she's getting the feeling this is somehow stealing.
It's not, it makes economic sense.


To be continued....