Sedation - It's not just for breakfast anymore!

*** continued from previous post  ***


September 12, 2008

Dear Amber,

Quick note about life on the home-front before we continue the story.

What's been happening since our return . . . not much. Couple of small fires. A trip or two to the emergency room. Scrambling to come up with bail money for cousin Molly. Same old, same old. As you can see our routine hasn't changed much since you've forsaken us to become a Navy Pirate.

L8R G8R!

Love you,
Daddio

P.S. Almost forgot . . . your cat died and we really did rent out your room to transients.
Hope you're having a great day Princess!

Twent - twenty - twenty -twenty four hours to go
I wanna be sedated

--- The Ramones

Yes, it was now 24 hours 'till blast-off. The excitement level in the household had reached a fevered pitch. It was Christmas Eve. It was Carnival in Rio. It was the night before a root canal sans novocaine.

Let me just state for the record that I was a cucumber. In a bowl of ice. Sitting in the refrigerator. Meditating. It was your Mother, pour soul, that had lost it and had become - well, there's no other way to put it - a complete whack-job.

As you know I have certain responsibilities pre-trip. I know what most of them are and Mom tells me the others. I check the bike over quite thoroughly. I change the oil. I make sure the tires are good and full to the proper pressure. Nothing quite like an under inflated tire on a bike. You may be able to get away with it on a car, but on a bike each tire constitutes 50% of your contact with the road. Since I like to be able to steer - I know, picky me - proper inflation is imperative. I check the lights, the turn signals, the exhaust. I wash the beast, and make her shiny. Probably until the next trip - aren't dead bugs considered decoration in some cultures? A badge of honor? Well, they should be. What? Not so much in certain Hindu sects? Oops. My bad. There goes the bike trip through India. Anyway, I look for loose hoses, cables, nuts, bolts and check all things dangley. I fill her with premium fuel. I confirm that the gauges, gizmos, and doo-dads are in proper working order.

Which is a polite way to say I try to keep busy and stay the hell out of your Mom's way while her psychosis runs its course.

*** the journey continues tomorrow