Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Hangin' with My Peeps.

The time has come for our annual girl's fiesta in Seattle! Below, I've reposted some of our adventures from last year, to entertain you until I get back.

Think we can top those good times this year? I'll let you know...

Riding in Cars with Boy Toys, Seattle '07:

So, I'm back. I always love going to Seattle, but hate to leave. What can I say, the city, its people, the light, the energy and all the wonderful old folks I know there are such a rich part of my life.

Take Harry, for instance. Eighty-nine years old, he's Ginny's boy toy. Ginny is eighty-seven, and one of my mother's dearest friends. Harry was an engineer for Boeing. He started there in 1964, just in time to work on "thrust" issues for the majestic Saturn V rocket of Apollo and Out of This World fame. In order to get Saturn V out of this world, Harry had to figure out how many pounds of thrust (2 million? Harry wasn't sure. Neither was I) were needed to push against air (which becomes a solid surface) and for how long. He told me that after 50,000 feet, the rocket could basically "coast" into outer space. I nodded like I understood.

Then there's Bill, my mother's eighty-nine year-old boy toy. He was my navigator for the week as I ferried us around in our mini-van rental. Here's how most of our rides went:

Bill: Stay in the left lane. No not that left lane. The center left lane.

Me: This one?

Bill: Right.

Me: The right lane?

Bill: No. This lane. This lane.

Me: So I'm turning left.

Bill: No, you're turning right. Right!

Mom: Watch out for pedestrians!

Me: Where's the pedestrian?

Mom: There wasn't one. But you have to watch out for them.

Bill: Right lane! Right lane! Oh God. NO!

Mom: Pedestrians have the right-of-way.

Me: There's a car in the right lane. I couldn't get over.

Bill: Oh God.

Mom: Well, all she has to do is turn left at the next light.

Bill: That's true.

Me: So I make the next left?

Bill: No. No! The street turns one-way at the bottom of the hill. We need to go right on Harrison.

Mom: Queen Anne is only one-way.

Me: But it was two ways a block ago.

Mom: I know.

Minutes tick by...

Bill: This should be Broad St. Is it Broad Street?

Me: Yes. It's Broad Street.

Bill: Make a right on Wall St. It should be two streets up.

We sail past Wall St.

Bill: Ok. Make a right here, another right, and go back to Wall St. Then make a left on Elliot and a right onto the Viaduct.

Mom: She can also make a right here, another right, a left on Western which turns into Elliot and then a right on the Viaduct.

Me: Can you just give me one direction at a time?

Bill: Get over to the right. To the right! Noooooo. Stay left. Oh God.

I still don't know how to get anywhere. Did I mention I have right/left dyslexia? By day-two I was humming the Three Stooges theme wherever we went. Bill mentioned that between him and my mother, they only had one good eye. "Yes," I added. "And two big mouths."

By contrast, and perhaps to prove that sometimes the apple does fall far from the tree, Bill's son John took a turn navigating and spoke to me in such soothing, positive tones I felt like a frightened wild animal he was trying to coaxe into friendship. Or a trap--John can be that way sometimes.

In a couple of days, FabDame should get some pics to me *hint hint* and ya'll can see what mischief a passel of octogenarian, drunken boy toys can get into. After that, a reunion with George: Mythical Family Figure and Procurer of Advertising Displays.


Girl friends 4-Evah! Naomi and Mom sharing a seat. They've been friends for fifty years!
Why, it's George--the man, the myth, the legend! (first on the left) The only person we've ever known with the chutzpah to weedle paper palm tree displays out of the grocery store and into what was the coolest teenaged boy's room in the history of the free world. He also introduced us to Huckleberries and slugs. Gotta love George!

Mom's and daughters! Mom, with me and FabDame behind; Naomi, with her beeootiful daughter Chris; and Ginny with her glamorous Pam!

My editor if I miss this deadline? A metaphor for all the times I failed to clean my room? Nah. Just me and Momster at the Asian market.

Tomorrow: Ann and her Boy Toys!

From L to R:

Harry, my rocket scientist, clutching the most bodacious badonkadonk he's had since the space race (with the exception of Ginny's). Enjoy it now, my friend. It's not likely to be this firm next year.

Bill, oh Bill! If only I'd met you first...

Doug, get with the program. You missed all the touchy-feely way in the back there. Although, anyone see where his other hand is? Maybe Bill knows.

Jerry, you only got a leg cuz I just met you. I'm kinda shy that way. Here's to next year!

*I'm not sure but I think EC said something about this pic being in the Cavemen calendar, 2008...



Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for the excellent stories, and the pictures to tide me over till you get back...


February 19, 2008 5:12 PM  
Anonymous jane/fabdame said...

C ya soon chica!

February 19, 2008 10:51 PM  
Anonymous Bev Stephans said...

Can't wait to see this year's pictures!

February 20, 2008 12:10 AM  

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