Some random stuff from Kjel.org’s trip last weekend to visit the CEO’s parents in Palm Desert, not really in chronological order:
1. Portland TSA officer(s): Thank you very much. The Jr VP is a spirited lad but mostly was a good boy during our journey to California. Except for a meltdown he commenced right at the metal detector. The lad didn’t like being forced to take his shoes off, and (unlike Daddy who just grumbles quietly) got down onto the ground to kick and scream and bang his fists about it. The rules about walking through the detector are pretty clear: if a kid can walk he is supposed to go through the detector under his own power. I had picked up the li’l screamer and was about to throw him through the doorway when the TSA guy told me is was OK to walk through carrying the boy. Another friendly TSA officer helped us with the gigantic stroller and diaper bag, while a third even came over to entertain the crying boy with latex glove balloons and funny talk. Everyone was as helpful and friendly as they possibly could have been. Thanks guys. Next time I have to fly out of PDX there’ll be a bottle of cognac in my carry-on: “Oh no I forgot about it and have to give it up to the TSA!” You guys like Remy VSOP?
2. Palm Springs TSA officer: Fuck you very much. You watched me buy the bottle of chocolate milk from the vendor 20 feet away from the security checkpoint. You might at that point also have noticed a three year old bawling his eyes out, mainly because our need to fly back to Portland late that afternoon precluded a nap for the young lad. Perhaps you even noticed the remarkable restorative properties a humble bottle of chocolate milk had on the boy. Chocolate milk that you watched me buy and open and give to a toddler. An exhausted and angry boy was made happy by that milk. That bottle of milk concretely represented the borderline between idyllic little Happytown and the barren wastelands of unincorporated Tantrum County. Your action forced Kjel.org out of Happytown and into the wastelands. You know goddamn well that there was absolutely no reason to not allow that bottle through security, especially since your own fucking website says that the TSA will make allowances for, quote, “milk” (not otherwise defined) regarding the no-liquids-onboard-the-plane-rule. I hope you enjoyed taking what you knew to a certainty to be completely harmless chocolate milk from a crying three year old boy. The next time I see your ugly mug I hope it is as an attached file photo accompanying an article about the victim of a killer bee attack or a flesh eating virus of some sort. Or both.
3. As we were walking down the jetway at PDX the CEO’s brain chimed in: Hmm. I wonder if the Jr VP is afraid of flying or heights or anything like that? I have no idea. I guess we’re about to find out. It turns out he wasn’t. In fact he screamed with glee as the 727 gained speed on the runway and then took off. He sounded a little bit insane; I hope he didn’t scare any of the other passengers.
4. Once at the Palm Springs airport Kjel.org rented a def Dodge Magnum Sport Wagon from the good people at Thrifty Rent-a-Car. The moment I saw it I knew I was gonna recline that seat waayyyy back. Oh yeeeeaaah.
Just in case they weren’t actually good people at Thrifty Rent-a-Car I took a few pictures of the body damage on said Magnum before we drove off. I was a little worried they might try to stick me for those dents, especially since the salesperson at Thrifty seemed to take personal offense to the fact that I would not purchase the supplemental insurance she kept trying to push. “Sir I really think you are making a mistake here . . .” She was almost proven correct as only the CEO’s cat-like reflexes prevented the Magnum from being sideswiped about 2 minutes after leaving the airport. The CFO was convinced that Thrifty sent an assault car after us. I’m not so sure about that, but then again, I can’t absolutely rule it out. I kept my eyes wide open for the rest of the drive. We made it to my parental unit’s place with no further incident.
Some minor body damage on the Magnum. Damage not inflicted by the CEO anyway.
5. There are giant lizards in Palm Desert. Luckily they are quite tame. We found this one at the Living Desert Zoo, which happens to be just about a 1/4 mile away from the Ironwood Country Club where my parents live. The giraffes at the zoo can occasionally be seen from a certain hole at the far end of the Ironwood golf course; stories abound of guests at Ironwood not being aware of the zoo and coming back to the clubhouse with stories that begin “You are never going to believe what I saw out on #16 South . . . ”
“Don’t give me your crap! You will too stare directly into the sun so that I can get a flerkin cute picture of you. Now look cute! Cuter, dammit!!
“There. That’s better. Cute.”
We took the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway to the top of San Jacinto Peak. I don’t think the lad was expecting to also play in the snow on this trip, but he quickly adapted. It was fun to watch his reaction when going from sunny and 80 degrees to sunny and 43 with 4 feet of snow on the ground. Jr loved riding the tram too; he called it “flying.” Most of the adults on board got a little bit nervous when the tram cars would start to sway after passing one of the towers, but Jr would just laugh and laugh and laugh. I need to take him to an amusement park soon I think.
And finally, The Good Spiderman playing in the morning sun and then eating breakfast on the patio in front of his grandparents’ house. The CEO sat on that very same chair about seven hours later drinking a cocktail as the sun went down. Not a bad way to end the day.
We’ve been back in town for like a week and a half and I still feel like I am playing catch-up. Sorry for the interuption in service. A story about the Jr. VP calling the Chief Educator a “Poopy Diaper Butt!” the other day and the ramifications thereof will be put up here shortly.
