When we last left our hero, he was hip deep in 15-year old girls. Our saga continues…
Ah! böwakawa poussé, poussé
--JWOL
On the way to MFGC’s wedding in Colorado Springs, I spent a few days with Dr. J and LBS in Boulder. These were some of their last days before parenthood, so I was looking forward to spending some time with them before their lives changed forever.
This was my first visit to Smith Mansion and the accommodations were great. Not only did I have an entire floor to myself, but this floor contained a kegerator with two flavors of homemade beer and a TV and VCR at my disposal. I did have to go all the way upstairs to read my email and submit resumes for jobs, but who am I to be greedy?
It is always great visiting with Dr. J. While he and LBS were at work during the day, I was left to my own devices. One day was particularly action-packed. First, I went to the National Institute of Standards and Technology because I wanted to score a leap second. I also wanted to learn why anyone felt that we periodically need leap seconds, particularly since the Greeks, Romans, and Hittites didn’t seem to miss them. Alas, the tour was cancelled, I never learned the answers to my questions, and now I have even more things keeping me up nights.
Fortunately, the National Center for Atmospheric Research is located just down the street from NIST, and I had a great time there. NCAR was a very attractive, I.M. Pei-designed building. The exhibits inside the building were very interesting, but what was most exciting for me was the fact that the building was featured in several scenes of Woody Allen’s Sleeper. Neither the Woodman, nor his movies have been the same since then and many of us wish they were.
After learning all I could at NCAR, I went across town to tour Celestial Seasonings. I’ve toured breweries and wineries before, but never a dry product’s factory. Prior to the tour, I sampled some of the latest concoctions in the gift shop.
I was very intrigued with the three of the new teas that featured maté. I learned of maté when people from Basavilbaso served it to me in Argentina. At the time, I was a bit suspicious of the legality and toxicity of the maté. Its existence at Celestial Seasonings reassured me of its healthfulness and satisfaction to the DEA, FDA, and PETA.
Prior to my guided tour, the tour guide solicited questions from the group. Being shy, I rarely take advantage of these opportunities in front of a crowd. However, the guide persisted, the group resisted, and finally, my silence desisted. I asked a question regarding the maté. The guide was so impressed with my question, that she rewarded me with a book on herbal remedies. (I can’t wait to share it with Rockin’ Robyn. As a pharmacist, she always wants to learn about the latest in herbal remedies.) I love winning things! As we started the tour, a little girl approached me. She wanted me to repeat my question for her so she could reuse it in the next tour and score a book for herself. So much for original thought.
Later, I went to the Fiske Planetarium on the UC-Boulder campus. Noting a bunch of kids there on a field trip, I asked the Planetarium director if he could seat them in a separate galaxy, as I did not want them disrupting my space. Since the theater was pretty empty, their presence was not an issue. When the planetarium dude challenged us to ask him a question that they could not answer, shyness and fear of ruining his perfect record guided me to silence as I allowed the kids to riddle him with questions such as “How many dinosaurs can fit into Pluto’s orbit?” I asked him my questions as the kids were leaving the show.
I had the days to myself, but we had fun playing at night. One night, Dr. J and LBS took me to see Cymbeline, a Shakespeare play about which I had never heard. I liked the costumes, but I thought Romeo and Juliet was a lot funnier. Also, it lacked the audience participation aspect of the I Feel Pretty sing along, but I always enjoy myself.
Picture yourself in a boat on a river
--JWOL
After a few days, I needed to give them some quiet time to prepare for the stork’s visit. I met Mom for the drive down to the Broadmoor for MFGC’s wedding. Mom planned several days of activities for us as warm-up exercises. One of these was rafting on the Arkansas River under the world’s highest suspension bridge, the Royal Gorge. Even though the waters were pretty low, at one point Mom remarked about the roughness of the waters. I informed her that I had had rougher baths. No one really understood that comment! I also enjoyed getting the people on shore to wave, getting the train conductors to toot their horns as they passed, and pondering where Evel Knieval must have landed when he attempted his jump.
Another year older
And a new one just begun
--JWOL
After the wedding, I raced back from Colorado to prepare for my week of Birthday celebrations. Since I was born at 2:00 AM on the East Coast, I felt that I was entitled to begin celebrating the prior evening on the West Coast. Consequently, I enjoyed a wonderful dinner with a very select group of gourmets on July 31.
Earlier in the day, I had another in a series of reunion lunches with colleagues from my most recent former employer. I told the waiter it was my Birthday, and he comped my meal. BS always takes the initiative to buy a Birthday card on these occasions, and she gets the others to sign it before presentation to the celebrant. In addition to the card, she presented me with a Slippery Nipple. I really enjoyed it, especially since I had not had any in a long time. It was so good that I wanted another one, but since I did not want to be greedy, I kept my mouth shut.
On the next day, my Birthday, I held the combined launch and lunch events. Of all of my events, I was most anxious about the launch as I did not want to get busted and I had never launched a rocket before. I spent quite a bit of time scouting launch sites. For security reasons, I kept the winner a secret and revealed it on a need to know basis only to the rest of the launch squad just prior to the launch.
Across the street on one side of the launch facility was a Dog Park that featured signs saying, “Dog Park Parking Only,” and “No Pets Allowed.” I have long wondered how dogs’ feet reached the pedals! On the other side of the launch field was a fire station that I did not notice on my scouting missions and that gave me some concern upon its discovery.
I enlisted a healthy group of volunteers eager to take roles in Mission Control. Sir Lawrence brought a few rockets of his own to see if we could accomplish a sub-orbital docking. Several people brought cameras for photoreconnaissance.
I carefully planned my Flight Director’s outfit. It consisted of the T-shirt I bought after witnessing my first shuttle launch from the VIP section at the Kennedy Space Center, and a white vest in honor of Gene Kranz, legendary Apollo Flight Director. For safety, I wore a scuba mask, and a Homer-inspired colander on my head. I used a baseball mitt for recovery operations.
We had a 100% launch and recovery success rate that would be the envy of any space program. Several of us celebrated at a new sushi restaurant afterwards. I then needed to prepare for my Full Throttle pool extravaganza, at which I was expecting upwards of 80 people over an 8-hour event. I made sure to get my rest so I would be up to the task.
The eight hours went by in a blur, as it always does. People were coming and going for the entire time. One reveler noted that I should be very honored by how many San Franciscans made a rare departure from their fair city to attend my festivities. I also appreciated how many people continued to give money to charity even though I was not able to match their gifts this year. What a great group of friends I have! I was looking forward to seeing JP, but his flight from Boston was delayed. I guess the skies were less-than-friendly to him. I look forward to the next time the space program brings him my way, especially since he insisted on paying for dinner during his last visit! ;-)
I was also surprised and disappointed that Digital Duke did not show. He later apologized and said he got distracted gathering signatures to get his name on the ballot. Duke for Governor! I will start making bumper stickers, but now I have a tough decision to make. I am not sure whether to vote for him or the porn star.
A number of people enquired as to what my M & M research revealed. The results are as follows: where I live, men are more likely to be a millionaire than married and men are more likely than women to be a millionaire. Conversely, women are more likely to be married than millionaires and women are more likely than men to be married. This leads to two corollaries: if a man is a millionaire, then he is more likely to be married and if a woman is married, then she is more likely to be a millionaire. The causes of these results are very well documented. I will not list them here as I have painfully learned that many people believe that shooting the messenger somehow changes reality.
Woke up, fell out of bed
--JWOL (with a little help from his friend JPMc)
I barely had enough time to catch my breath after the festivities before rushing to NY to catch The Dead at Jones Beach. Several months ago, Papa Paul kindly invited me to join him, but I was atypically reluctant to commit as the concert coincided with the tennis season’s District Championships. My team had not made the Districts since we won them several years ago when I was last Captain, but I believed that we had a good chance to score a berth this year and I did not want to miss my rare opportunity to play in them. As soon as I realized that my team would not need my help to lose the Districts, I caught a plane to NY.
On recent trips to NY, I have tried to append a destination that is difficult to reach from California. After the last trip, I went to the Caribbean. Since I did not want to go anywhere hot in summer, I decided that Northern Europe was a safe bet for cool days that would also be long. Ultimately, I decided upon Holland. More on Holland later.
New York City... New York City... New York City
Que pasa, New York? Que pasa, New York?
--JWOL
I had a few days in NY before the Dead concert so I spent a day in Manhattan, where I stumbled upon a new sex museum. I figured it would be a good warm-up exercise for Holland as I was planning to visit the one in Amsterdam. It was a great museum and I learned a lot about how NYC and sex have influenced each other over the years. I also caught up on a few movies that I missed when they were in the theaters and I think I discovered where some of the accoutrements for MFGC’s bachelorette party were purchased.
Nobody told me there’d be days like these
Strange days indeed — strange days indeed
--JWOL
The next day, BB and I went to visit the Grands. Close to our destination, we were racing down an inclined plane from the train to a bus when I took a fall reminiscent of those I sometimes experienced while skiing. There were two big differences, though. First, the concrete is much harder and sharper than snow, so I discovered lots of blood and bruises once I finally stopped rolling. Second, unlike in skiing, no doggie skied up to rescue me with a daiquiri under his chin.
After much post accident analysis, I realized the cause of the catastrophe: I had not fully accounted for the weight and oscillation of my backpack swinging in front of me. I was very fascinated by the Waves and Vibrations class I took in college, but that was many years ago, and I have not calculated those equations of motion since then.
Thinking of my imminent visit with Grandma, I knew that I had to do what all good accident investigators do: conceal the evidence. I suggested that BB run interference when we go to the Grands until I could recover and compose myself. Well, as soon as we entered chez Grands, BB exclaims, “out of the way Grandma, Adam hurt himself!” So much for concealing the evidence!
Grandma took one look at me, and for once, she did not like what she saw. I tried to console her with the reminder that I had been skinning my knees for 30 years and that rumors of my demise were grossly exaggerated. These efforts, however, were largely in vain, so BB insisted on rushing out to the nearest M*A*S*H unit from which he retrieved enough bandages, goop, and gauze to re-enact a scene from The Mummy Returns.
In retrospect, I realized that to a physicist, “interference” could be either constructive or destructive. When I asked BB to run interference, I should not have been ambiguous. As one of Silicon Valley’s leading overqualified, unemployed, user experience designers, I should have spoken the user’s language. I guess this episode does not earn a berth on my resume.
Ultimately, the crying and screaming stopped, and I had a great visit with the Grands as always. Grandma has been around for a long time—as long as I can remember, in fact. However, I do not think that she was present when the Dutch bought NY from the Indians. Nevertheless, when she heard that I was going to Amsterdam and possibly Haarlem, she thought that I would be traveling within NY. As soon as I told Grandma that I was going to Holland, Grandma says, “No drugs!” I replied, “What about sex, Grandma?” I could not quite interpret the face that Grandma showed me after this comment, but I am pretty sure that it was not the same one that I saw at my graduation from Junior High School. BB was surprised that this was even a topic of discussion as he noted that both drugs and sex were plentiful in Manhattan and so there must be other reasons that I was going overseas.
I don’t think any of this helped Grandma, as she gets nervous and anxious whenever I pursue dangerous and risky adventures, and traveling is one of them in her eyes. I know that she happily displays the Astronaut Office rejection letter that I framed for her. However, in addition to my astronaut aspirations, the growing list of hazardous and risky activities that I undertake includes petting alligators, sharks, and bat rays; flying in helicopters, gliders, trapeze, balloons, parasails, and hang gliders; commanding enemy subs; fraternizing with natives: amusing the Argentineans, bonding with the Brazilians, mingling with the Mauians; going over Iguazu Falls in a barrel; hanging with other boobs; eating sushi; scuba diving, working for startups, exploring unstable terrain, entertaining the tennis club in drag, and what is far and away my most risky pursuit: dating Jewish women.
After a few hours of stories, jokes, and Jello shots, we were all pretty exhausted and Dad came to retrieve me. As I am departing, Grandma asks me to send her email from Holland. “But you don’t have email, Grandma,” I observed. “I know,” Grandma agreed, “I’ll have someone read it to me. Oh, and when you send the email from Holland, let the phone ring twice and hang up. I don’t want you to have to pay for the call.” I replied, “OK Grandma. You’re in charge until I return. Be excellent to Grandpa.” Then, Adam left the building.
Well here’s another clue for you all
The walrus was Paul.
--JWOL
After my Grands visit, I had a few days to prepare for the Dead concert. Noting rain, Dad gave me an umbrella and poncho to make my experience a drier one. I knew that Papa Paul was a great host and that he would take care of everything else.
I went over to Papa Paul’s early enough the next day to have time to play with his kids and Doc, as they would not be joining us at the concert in the rain. Papa Paul’s home is a playhouse for kids of all ages. He not only has several season’s worth of M*A*S*H and Simpsons episodes, and every CD ever made, but there are games and toys all over so that something fun is always within reach.
Papa Paul took me to my first Dead show 24 years ago. Being very nostalgic and sentimental, I was greatly looking forward to attending another one with him, especially since we have shared very few others together during the interim. This time we didn’t need his Mom to drive.
While I greatly enjoyed seeing the show with Papa Paul, the show was not one of my favorites. Maybe it was anxiety over my imminent trip to the Netherlands. Maybe it was jet lag or lack of sleep. Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was the fact that it was the anniversary of Jerry Garcia’s death, but despite Papa Paul’s best efforts, I think that many of us had been in higher spirits. Papa Paul confirmed this suspicion; he enjoyed the show the following night more without the rain, without the coincidence with Jerry’s death, and most unfortunately, without me! Not to worry, though. I would be seeing the Dead again a month later when both the band and I had the home court advantage. Of course, it would not be the same with Papa Paul, but I’m sure that the band would get over it!
The next day, I decided that the tennis club could survive a Board of Directors meeting without my presiding over it, so I extended my overseas adventure by a few days. I was not yet sure what I would do with the additional time, but since I am always blessed with more interests than time, I knew that I would have not trouble filling it. That night, Mom grilled some of the steaks that I bought for Dad for Father’s Day, and I packed and repacked a few more times just to prove that I could.
Mom determined which seats on the plane had the most leg room and encouraged me to procure one of them. After some amount of effort at the airport, I scored one. I was on my way to Holland!
Well we all shine on
Like the moon and the stars and the sun
--JWOL
One early highlight of the trip to Holland occurred when the pilot showed us Mars out the starboard side of the plane. I was very excited to see Mars since the NY skies were overcast the entire time that I was there. This is the closest that Mars has been in 60,000 years and so I may not be around when it gets closer.
Whatever gets you through the night 'salright, 'salright
--JWOL
Eventually, I landed at Schipol airport, which I had not seen since I paused there en route to seeing a handful of Monets at the Hermitage several years ago. I found the hotel shuttle and I was on my way. On the way to my hotel, I noted a store front with “Telephonen, Interneten, Emailen, and Faxen” written on the window. This is going to be easier than I thought. Just add “en” to nouns. All I need to do now is find signs that say “Chinese Fooden” and “Prostituten” and I’ll be home free!
I wanna be your man
--JWOL (with a great deal of help from his friend JPMc)
Within minutes of checking in to my hotel and showering I learned that the Rolling Stones would be playing in Amsterdam in a few days. I immediately began my mission to score tix for what I expected would be the biggest win of my trip. Over the next few hours, I spent a surprising amount of effort informing the locals about a major event—I saw more posters for this event than for any other—occurring in their backyard in an effort to learn where to go to procure tix and how many of my first-born children the tix would cost me. (I had the same experience in Paris years ago when I learned of the Live Aid concert, but most of the tourist information people around town were somehow completely unaware of all of the posters that I noticed. In that case, persistence was ultimately rewarded and I still remember staying up all night watching the live telecast in an arena with thousands of others.)
Later that day, I met two people with Rolling Stones T-shirts. Figuring that they would have some insights, I asked, “Did you see the show?” Surprisingly, their reply was, “What show?” I replied, “The Rolling Stones. They played in Rotterdam a few nights ago.” They then said, “Oh we go to every show. We’re the band’s cooks.” I was hoping to score some tix—or at least some recipes—from them, but no luck.
Over the next few days, I confronted everyone I saw wearing a Stones T-shirt hoping that I could learn the likelihood that I would be able to safely scalp tix at the Amsterdam Arena and how much I would likely have to pay. I learned that even though the face value of the ticket was only about $50, people were advertising tix for around $1000. Since I had seen the Stones earlier in the current tour, and since I imagined that a scalper would not accept credit cards, I began to sense defeat. (I did not ultimately conceded defeat until a week later when I extended my stay in Delft by a day to include the night of the concert. This turned out to be fortuitous as a woman I met at a comedy club that night informed me that they cancelled the show that night because Mick lost his voice. I was glad that I stayed that extra night in Delft!)
Here I am
What am I supposed to do?
--JWOL
Walking around Amsterdam felt like walking around in an Anne Frank movie for the following reasons. First, the buildings that were hundreds of years old in the 1940s look exactly the same 60 years later. Second, many people still buzz around on bikes that look as if they were from that period as opposed to racing bikes or mountain bikes more prevalent in the States. One difference, though, is that some of today's bikers are talking on the phone while biking. I guess they are air-brushed out of the Anne Frank movies.
I spent entire days at the Rijksmuseum, and Van Gogh museum. I did not spend as much time in the Sex Museum because it did not have any touchy feely exhibits. I also visited the Hash Marijuana and Hemp Museum so I could talk more intelligently to my rope-making friends in Kentucky. As I told Grandma upon my return, “I went to art museums, drug museums, and sex museums, but just because I went to art museums does not mean that I am an artist. Just because I went to drug museums does not mean that I am a druggist, and just because I went to sex museums does not mean that I am [a] sexist.
I also enjoyed the Red Light District. As in Boston, the Red Light District is next to Chinatown, which is very convenient. One night, I went window-shopping in the Red Light District. I knew better than to make eye contact with any of the software on display, but like Lot’s wife, curiosity got the better of me. The window woman looked at me and said, “50.” Stunned, I inquired “50?” for confirmation. She reiterated the price to which I replied “I used to get more than that in college!” I guess that’s another place to which I cannot return.
Surprisingly, many of the ladies were overweight and unattractive. This was especially remarkable since most of the rest of the women in town were very slim. I quietly wondered whether Amsterdam had a Pretty Prostitute Prohibition. Then I believe I uncovered the cause of the size differential. Unlike the women who were constantly buzzing around the city on bicycles, these ladies were sitting under red lights all day munching on Chinese food!
Walking around Chinatown next door, I discovered an All You Can Eat restaurant. It had a twist that I had never seen anywhere else, though. Eating was limited to one hour. (I think the ladies under the lights may have had timers as well.) As many people know, I do not like being rushed. As far as I could tell, none of the places were kosher, so I went elsewhere. Grandma would be proud!
I enjoyed a few nice hotel rooms on my trip. While European hotel rooms are typically much smaller than their American counterparts, some of them are furnished very nicely.
Power to the people
--JWOL
While in Amsterdam, I learned of the power blackout in NY and its environs. I emailed my people in NY to see how they were effected, knowing full well that I would not receive replies until they received power. As usually happens when the lights go out, Dad provided the best story. He rescued a bus that he knew was heading in the direction of the Grands and he assumed the role of Bus Captain. His duties largely consisted of keeping the peace and ensuring that everyone was sufficiently hydrated. The last time he had this role must have been either when he was the Coach of my basketball team or during a family road trip.
When he finally reached his parents’ apartment, he was exhausted, but he found them in surprisingly good spirits. Grandpa was disappointed that he would not be able to watch The Simpsons, Letterman, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer that night. Dad assured him that they were all reruns and he borrowed their car for the last leg of his journey home.
When Dad finally got home, he found Mom in the backyard. Thinking quickly, Mom realized that ice was less valuable after it melted and steak was less tasty once ruined. She therefore rescued the ice and the remaining Father’s Day steaks and prepared a wholesome meal of BBQ steaks and chocolate martinis. After a few rounds, they did not realize that they would not be able to watch Letterman either.
Picture yourself on a train in a station
--JWOL
Since I doubled the length of my overseas adventure, I needed to decide what to do with the next five days. I considered going to Noordwijk to see a space museum about which I just learned. Unfortunately, this museum turned out to be yet another instance of something about which the locals knew less than I and it appeared as if I might know more about space than the museum did. I had hopes of going to Copenhagen, but enemy agents must have intercepted the welcoming message from my contact, as I never received it. After considering my options, I decided to go to Delft.
All I want is the truth
Just gimme the truth.
--JWOL
After I disembarked the train in Delft, I bumped into a woman, who helpfully guided me toward the center of town. She explained that there was a big technology university in town and that there were very few women enrolled because their brains were not as suited to technology as men’s brains are. I told her another theory explaining the paucity of women in technology blamed environmental differences. When I asked her whether people were bothered by this situation, she replied, “No, why should we be bothered?” Exactly.
Delft was a sweet city, where the “new” church was built in the 1300s. Everyone spoke English well and they had a clever system for keeping all but trash and emergency vehicles out of the downtown area. It was kind of like EPCOT center, but with funny money. I enjoyed relearning about William of Orange. Also, I set a new personal best cruising through three museums and two churches in one day because they were all small and did not all have a wealth of English translations.
Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
--JWOL
I had been keeping abreast of world events by watching the news on TV and the Web. Learning of the latest rounds of nastiness in Israel and Baghdad, I thought I should make a trip to Den Haag to see what I could do to help. Late the night before, I stumbled upon a BBC program featuring my NASA Virtual Reality Lab and some of my former colleagues. This turned out to be foreshadowing for the next day. (Coincidentally, one of the people on TV was to speak at a technical society meeting back home in a few weeks. I think I spooked him at dinner beforehand when I remarked that I had just seen him on late night TV in Holland.)
I met some interesting people in Den Haag. I also found a wonderful exhibit on M.C. Escher at the Paleis Museum. It was especially fun because it featured a VR area enabling visitors to “fly” around Escher-inspired worlds. Ten of us each had our own headset and I won a few honors in the organized competitions. I am glad that I was up late the previous night, as the BEEB preparation must have helped.
I contemplated sticking around The Hague long enough to visit a jazz club about which I learned, but it had already been a long day and the show would not start for another few hours. So I decided to return to Delft to see the comedy show and the college party I knew would be happening there that evening. To keep in shape while I was away, I saw three comedy shows while I was in Holland, and they were all very funny. I’m hoping that they were all in English!
People asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them there’s no problems, only solutions
--JWOL
On my way to the train back to Amsterdam the next day, I retrieved the special German perfume that I ordered for Mom. Every time I go to Europe, Mom asks me to get her her favorite perfume, which is sold only there. It took me quite a bit of effort to learn that it was discontinued several years ago, so I settled for the largest bottle of its replacement that I could find. Mom has had a special fondness for Germany since even before she started to make me there many years ago so she likes to smell like Fraulein Helga on special occasions.
The train ride back to Amsterdam was very scenic, but it was not all relaxing as I had work to do. The tennis club’s newsletter editor notified me that he needed input for the next issue. Since I still felt guilty for blowing of the board meeting, I penned a poem on the train.
Drove from Paris to the Amsterdam Hilton
--JWOL
With fewer than 48 hours left in Amsterdam, I had to be very focused with where I spent my time. I booked a hotel closer to the town center than the one that I had previously so that some of the remaining sights would be within striking distance. Checking my airline’s web site, I noted that I was successful in rerouting my return flight through JFK so that my folks would be able to meet me and I could give them their gifts. Previously, I was scheduled to go through Atlanta, but since Elton was not in town, I figured that NY was the better choice.
I went to all of the sights that I hoped to visit and planning efficiency enabled me to score a bonus tour through the Koninklijk Paleis (Royal Palace), which was wonderful. Later that evening, I went to another comedy show, just in case. Then, with only a few hours left in my trip, I visited the sight that was closest to my original hotel, but for which I had not previously made the time. It is a place that I have been wanting to visit, but I saved the best for last. It is not in any of the tour books, and no one else I know has been there. (That makes it sound like many of the other things I have done on various vacations!) I hiked from Leidseplein to the Hilton to visit the place where John Lennon and Yoko Ono spent their honeymoon. I was hoping to get into the suite featured in Give Peace a Chance.
Well, benefiting from Instant Karma, I managed to achieve my dream and it was great. I knew that the hotel had memorialized the room and that they rented for about $1000 a night. I was glad that nobody was sleeping in my bed when I got there. Most of the room was as I remembered from film clips, but the hotel added a few flourishes in commemoration including a tub and the guest book that Yoko signed during a return visit.
For those unable to appreciate my excitement, consider how many people make pilgrimages to Graceland with similar zeal and enthusiasm. I had already visited Abbey Road studios, Apple headquarters, Paul’s headquarters, the Indica Gallery and other sights in London; Strawberry Fields, the Dakota, Shea Stadium, Madison Square Garden, the set of Saturday Night Live, and the Plaza in NY; and Candlestick Park in San Francisco, so this was not an isolated Beatles experience for me.
I was going to tip the bellboy who escorted me to the room, but he was so happy with all of the Beatles trivia that I shared with him, that he did not need any further remuneration.
There’s a UFO over New York and I ain’t too surprised
--JWOL
When I’m traveling, I’m always anxious until I get my seat on the plane as I imagine that traffic and any number of other events can frustrate my best-laid plans. Since my watch battery died a few days earlier, I was especially nervous about awaking at a very early hour to catch my plane. Fortunately, the wake-up call arrived like clockwork and I made it to the airport early enough to check-in, visit the Rijksmuseum excerpt there, and spend my remaining Euros. After reaching NY, Customs asked me what I had to declare. “I had a wonderful trip and I am greatly looking forward to my next adventure,” I answered. I guess that answer was acceptable as they re-admitted me to my homeland. I gave a few gifts to the 'rents, passed their sobriety tests, and continued my long trek home.
A working class hero is something to be
--JWOL
I always look forward to returning home. (Someone once told me that that was psychologically healthy.) At home, I discovered a bunch of messages from headhunters and others describing job prospects. However, when I returned the calls, I learned that either I was overqualified for the positions, or they were unsuitable for other reasons. (How many people have told their doctors that they were overqualified and that they preferred one who was less talented?) Lacking any interviews on my schedule to keep me in town, I tried to think of a clever way for an unemployed person to celebrate Labor Day. I decided to meet my folks at the Broadmoor since I could not think of anyone who deserved a broad more.
Dad was there on business, working as hard as three people, which is how Mom and I were able to surf along in his wake enjoying the fruits of his labors. I enjoyed winning another trophy in the annual tennis tournament, and I feasted on wonderful food every night. One night, I had rabbit, which I had not tasted since I took Mel Blanc out to dinner many years ago. Since they both stopped hopping long ago, I figured that it was time for another taste. They prepared it the way I like it: it tasted like chicken.
Nobody told me ther’d be days like these.
Strange days indeed.
--JWOL
One day, we took the cog railway to the top of Pikes Peak. It was 80 degrees at the bottom and 30 degrees at the top. I had to wear all of my clothes, plus some of Dad’s.
The following day we went to an Indian casino in Cripple Creek. I enjoyed singing The Band’s song to myself while examining the peculiar versions of Black Jack they featured. In casinos, Mom likes me to help her play craps so she can focus all of her energies into shouting, “Adam needs a mail order bride!” while rolling the dice. Since the casino lacked craps, Mom settled for the slot machines. “How does this one work?” Mom queried. “You put money in and it keeps it. It’s like a telephone, only you don’t get to talk to me when you’re done,” I answered. Frankly, I think the whole thing was a scam, as I did not find a single Indian. The cowboys I found looked even more disappointed than I felt.
On the way back to the hotel, we noticed snow at the top of Pikes Peak. It’s probably a good thing we visited before it snowed there.
People say I’m crazy doing what I’m doing
--JWOL
Early one morning, I started shouting for Mom to get over to my room. Led by her busted patella and my sawed-off mahogany cane, she finally arrived and inquired about the excitement. “The Scooby Doo movie is about to start. Are you in?” I asked. For some reason, Mom did not seem to share my enthusiasm. I imagine that she must have already seen the movie.
Look at me
What am I supposed to be?
--JWOL
Aunt Flo met me at the plane in San Jose, eager to hear the stories of my adventures that she knew would be forthcoming. Since Aunt Flo is from Canada, she is only 70% of the average American woman. I imagine that is why we get along so well.
I am now home again contemplating my next adventure. I was hoping to join Mom and Dad on their trip to Uzbekhistan, particularly since I have yet to visit any of the 'stans. However, the trip overlaps my tennis club’s final General Meeting and I would have felt guilty missing the opportunity to publicly thank all of my Board of Directors members, who did such a wonderful job this year.
With that trip a no go, I am interviewing roomates. Who wants to go?
Dank u for playing.
© Adam Brody. All rights reserved.
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