Irma and I made a short notice trip to visit with her brother in Cedar City, Utah to give him some support through some ongoing difficult times. In order to get there, we had to fly to Las Vegas and rent a car to drive 2 1/2 hours into Utah. I've never been a 'city person', (nor even a large town person), and Vegas definitely fits the bill. However, we did get a chance to sample some amazing desserts and sandwiches from Jean-Philippes, a patisserie at the Bellagio Hotel where one of our nephews works. I'm afraid amazing is a bit restrained when it comes to the chocolates and eclairs and, yes, even the roast beef sandwich we had...
On the flight out to Vegas, as well as while gathering our luggage at the airport, I had the opportunity to observe people. Yep, those stereotypes fit. On the flight, there was a large contingent of blue-haired senior citizens (and spouses) who happily chatted almost non-stop with each other and anyone else who made the mistake of making eye contact about how "I personally don't gamble much, but I always seem to win. But I know someone who lost x-thousand dollars the last time they went". Funny. Nobody loses in Vegas, it's always someone else... ;-) Of course, on the flight back, most of those same blue-hairs were silent and appeared quite somber.
Another living stereotype was the white-leisure suit clad, comb-over bearing, 40-something who rushed off the plane to a vending machine near baggage claim in order to purchase a half dozen roses or some other such bouquet, presumable for the girlfriend he was to meet at the airport. Oozing class, he pondered over the important decision for 10 minutes or so before settling on some arrangement that presumable was almost fresh... Oh, and the young mid-twenties who put down a brace of beers prior to boarding the plane, talked loudly much of the way, and upon exiting the plane, almost ran to the slot machine to get rid of a few dollars that, based on how quickly he wanted to get rid of them, obviously must have been contaminated with H1N1.
There was also the man, sitting across the aisle from me, who grumbled about how they wouldn't let him bring his beer from the terminal onto the plane, and when an infant 4 rows back from us uttered 5-10 seconds worth of loud crying (who wouldn't cry upon being herded into the closed confines of an MD-80), spent the next two minutes loudly muttering to himself "Oh lord, what have I gotten myself into. Great, a screaming baby. They should ban those things...blah blah blah") His harangue was infinitely more annoying than the normal utterances of even the loudest infant. ;-)
Anyway, trip out and back went smoothly. Irma's brother, Omar, and his family (3 kids age 8,13, and 18), probably face a lot more stress as his wife continues her long recovery from brain surgery, but Irma and I both saw good signs of eventual progress and hope. Puts my whole cataract surgery drama in perspective, at any rate...
Back to the writing, and I expect I'll be grinding away at Cerryns tale this weekend. I'll let you know how it goes...
TTFN,
Jim
On the flight out to Vegas, as well as while gathering our luggage at the airport, I had the opportunity to observe people. Yep, those stereotypes fit. On the flight, there was a large contingent of blue-haired senior citizens (and spouses) who happily chatted almost non-stop with each other and anyone else who made the mistake of making eye contact about how "I personally don't gamble much, but I always seem to win. But I know someone who lost x-thousand dollars the last time they went". Funny. Nobody loses in Vegas, it's always someone else... ;-) Of course, on the flight back, most of those same blue-hairs were silent and appeared quite somber.
Another living stereotype was the white-leisure suit clad, comb-over bearing, 40-something who rushed off the plane to a vending machine near baggage claim in order to purchase a half dozen roses or some other such bouquet, presumable for the girlfriend he was to meet at the airport. Oozing class, he pondered over the important decision for 10 minutes or so before settling on some arrangement that presumable was almost fresh... Oh, and the young mid-twenties who put down a brace of beers prior to boarding the plane, talked loudly much of the way, and upon exiting the plane, almost ran to the slot machine to get rid of a few dollars that, based on how quickly he wanted to get rid of them, obviously must have been contaminated with H1N1.
There was also the man, sitting across the aisle from me, who grumbled about how they wouldn't let him bring his beer from the terminal onto the plane, and when an infant 4 rows back from us uttered 5-10 seconds worth of loud crying (who wouldn't cry upon being herded into the closed confines of an MD-80), spent the next two minutes loudly muttering to himself "Oh lord, what have I gotten myself into. Great, a screaming baby. They should ban those things...blah blah blah") His harangue was infinitely more annoying than the normal utterances of even the loudest infant. ;-)
Anyway, trip out and back went smoothly. Irma's brother, Omar, and his family (3 kids age 8,13, and 18), probably face a lot more stress as his wife continues her long recovery from brain surgery, but Irma and I both saw good signs of eventual progress and hope. Puts my whole cataract surgery drama in perspective, at any rate...
Back to the writing, and I expect I'll be grinding away at Cerryns tale this weekend. I'll let you know how it goes...
TTFN,
Jim
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