86

Recently, very early one morning, I was traveling through the Tampa airport and stopped at a restaurant for a meal. The plate I wanted came with potatoes which I didn't want. Being groggy, I slipped back many years and told the waitress to "86 the potatoes". She looked at me with some amazement and said "how'd you know that term?". Her question woke me up and I told her I had been a waitress while in college. Her response was "Cool!". And she was very nice and attentive the rest of the time I was there.

It got me to reminiscing about my younger years. I refuse to say the good ole days ... but man ... what a time that was!!! Hanging out for HOURS at the Broadway Drug store drinking coffee and studying and waxing philosophic, solving the problems of the world and debating what it all meant; living on beans and rice, loving waiting tables because I got to eat something besides beans and rice. And the house (duplex actually) on 14th Street. Ah man, it was an ancient house, had an old small stable in the back with a dead and rusting Studebaker and we'd find chunks of coal in the storm cellar under the house where they used to store the coal used to heat it before gas was available. And adopting any cats that came around ... feeding them on a platform made from an Earth, TX city limits sign that someone swiped, the sign suspended on a tree so they could eat without the neighbor's dogs bothering them. We'd ring Mimi's bells and the cats would come running. And ... , I digress...

Anyway, it also caused me to ponder where the term "86" originated. So I googled it and here is the answer from the Urban Dictionary - http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=86 the definition and how the term came into being.

Personal space, airplanes and being passive agressive

Anyone who cannot afford to fly First class on an airplane in recent years knows that personal space on airplanes is all but non-existent. About the only true personal space is where your feet are.

This evening on a flight from Austin to Tampa, the man in front of me reclined his seat into what I consider my personal space bubble. The back of his seat was so close to my face that I could literally SMELL his hair ... and believe me, it was not a pleasant smell. Forget using the tray table, forget not bumping his seat when getting out to use the restroom. And truthfully, I may have bumped it a little more than was actually necessary. Especially after I politely asked him to not recline it so far since it was in my face ... he declined to adjust his seat. So every time I reached into the seat back pocket, I exaggeratedly bumped the seat back. I read my newspaper resting it on the top of his seat back and yes, his head.

It was probably not a very nice thing to do ... probably petty ... but it made me feel better none the less ... especially because I asked nicely for my space back.

I hardly ever recline on planes. When I do, I tell the person behind me before I recline and ask them to please let me know if they need more space or to get out of their seat.

Photos of Rancho Bernardo Inn

Rancho Bernardo Inn - decorated for Christmas.A few days ago I got around to uploading the pictures I took at the Rancho Bernardo Inn back in December. I was surprised to discover that many of the photos I took were of the fountains around the property. On Friday while I was there, I had a massage, then lunch with my niece and then just walked around the property taking pictures. Apparently, I the pictures I took were almost entirely of the fountains and other water features. I wonder what I was thinking and feeling that made me focus unknowingly on the water. Here are some of the pictures.

Random thoughts and questions

Why do waiters give a single woman dining alone less service than a single man? I tip more than single men do unless the waitress is a cute young thing.

why do people feel the need to "one up"?

why don't we do away with the primary system method of selecting who will be candidates for president? By the time the primaries are held in western states, many of the candidates have dropped out. Why not just have one election and do a runoff if needed.

why does stress make us eat?

speaking of eating ... my scaredy-cat actually caught a mouse last night...in our living room. ugh! this is the first mouse we've had in 17 years ... must be those people that just moved in next door ... brought it with them.

on the road ... I miss my husband and cats ... especially when waking up in the morning with them next to me

I worry some about my niece who is serving in the military.

Life is what it is.

Been a while

I realized recently that it had been a while since I blogged. It's not that I was busy with the holidays or anything. I just succumbed to the gray days of winter. I danced a gig on the Winter Solstice because that day meant that the days would be getting longer.

I had a wonderful retreat at the Rancho Bernardo Inn in California. A wonderful serene place surrounded on all sides by suburbia. The fires in California did not touch the inn very much ... just a few singes here and there. While there, my niece who lives in the area came to the inn for lunch. It was wonderful to see her. She moved to California with a friend and has no support system there, no family. I admire her bravery. She has a strong sense of self and is a confident young woman.

I was dismayed by the recent assassination of Bhutto. How sad a world is it in which a person's passion can lead to their death.

Gray Day

I must exude a certain amount of confidence or expertise in areas that I most times do not feel. Three times in the last 24 hours, I've had people ask me for help or direction because they just knew I'd have the answer. Well, I didn't. I don't. I'm clueless. Something about how they took the answer made me feel like they didn't believe me. Why would I lie to them and refuse to help? That is not in my nature and surely they know that about me.

Liars offend me. It is probably my biggest pet peeve of all. Be honest.

Yes. OK, I'll be honest too. I'm not perfect. I have told lies ... some small white lies and some big whoppers ...like when I was 16 and supposed to be at the movies, but really was out necking with a guy ... but I learned a lesson from that. I always feel really bad when I do lie and so I don't. Even small white lies can come back on you. Like saying to your mother-in-law that you really like some dish that she made when in reality you don't, but then she thinks you do so makes it for you every special occasion and you have to continue to eat it and pretend to like it because you lied. Lessons like that make me not lie.

And when I catch a certain someone in a lie, this someone that lies so often that she can't keep track of what she has said ... it makes me not want to be around her ... it makes me not trust anything that she ever says. And yet, she continues to lie never learning and she wonders why I don't believe her. I just don't get it.

Airport Musings

Traveling from Austin to Lubbock yesterday I was struck by several thoughts. First in the Austin airport, I saw a little old lady that reminded me of my grandmother. She was walking through the airport after having gotten off her plane ... coming to visit her grandkids. Mimi used to do the same thing only on buses. I wonder if Mimi were still alive if she would be flying now. I wonder if air travel then had been what it is now if she would have flown. After watching this lady greet her grandkids, I looked around and realized that the airports of today are much like the bus stations of yesteryear.

That got me to thinking of airports of the past. When I was growing up, I had an aunt that lived on the East coast. I remember going to the airport to pick her up at least a couple of times back in the early 1960's. If we were early, we would wait in the cafe which had windows looking out on the runways. Back then, you met your traveler on the tarmac. I have a very clear picture of the airplane, silver and seemingly huge! stairs rolled out to the plane, people dressed up coming down the stairs. (no one dresses up for travel on a plane now) I remember my aunt coming through the door and pausing, looking around and then seeing us and waving before she started down the stairs. In my memory, she was wearing a full length mink coat, high heels, a very stylish suit and carrying a round make-up case. Who could ever have been more sophsicated!

As my plane was making the descent into Lubbock, I looked at the fields white with cotton and mostly unchanged in the years that have passed since the 60's. I wondered what my aunt, on seeing this so many years ago was thinking. Was she, like me, thinking what a dismal, flat place Lubbock is? or was she glad to be coming home?