Go-in on a jet plane, tra-la

(I’m trying to convince Sophie to water the Earth Box tomatoes while I’m gone but she’s a slacker)

So much for being green, an expression my Spartan friend claims is dubious in any case. It’s true that I could buy every bite I put in my mouth from now until death, imported from Peru, and use less fuel miles. Sigh. But, you know, some of us do what we can do. And then we go to the airport.

It’s sort of an odd summer, with no real vacation planned between Rich and myself, so I’m tagging along to his conference in Washington, D.C., mostly because that is the home of MARY! I’ve had the good fortune to meet a number of my fellow bloggers, including Sparky, the link fairy, who tried to burn down the brickhouse here in Chicago. That was exciting. But Mary has been at the top of my list since the beginning. We were casting out Starter People at about the same time and then we had hysterectomies on almost the same day. Right there, you have the misery loves company part but it’s a lot more than that. I want to meet Mary because, unless we’ve all been seriously duped, she’s one of those people I would call exceptionally normal. At moments, humorously distressed. Displaying remarkable patience in a cranky sort of way. Generous, caring and self-sacrificing with only the occasional catty snippet. Rock solid even when she’s crumbling at the brink. Her exceptional writing is a common phenomenon. This is really true. It’s some of the smartest writing around and yet, when you check it for reading level, it comes out as elementary school level. This is probably linked to the fact that she is a guardian of young minds, a purveyor of knowledge, the answer to curiosity- a primary school teacher. My heroes!

Anyway, I will finally have the opportunity to meet the divine Miz M tomorrow and I’m all nervous about it because really, I’m quite shy. Plus, I’m older and lumpier. (She doesn’t know it yet, but when a person turns fifty-five, which she hasn’t, the surface of your body becomes like a mini movie set for Tremors. Your flesh starts to ripple and there are barely discernible small mounds that appear in odd places. And they migrate around. I digress.) If Mary didn’t live there, I probably wouldn’t go to the nation’s capitol over the 4th of July. I’m not big on heat, crowds or big cities. Rich will be in meetings, more or less, although we’ll probably get some free dinners and hotel soap and, at night, when I’m not with Mary and he’s not in meetings we can be in a nice (did I mention free) hotel room together. And there will be fireworks.

Now I’m excited. I have to go pack and try to figure out how to get out of going to a Taste of Chicago this afternoon. My lovely young niece has moved to town for her first real job (okay. I can tell you because we are bizarrely related in a way no drug selling, weapons stock piling gangster could ever connect: she looks exactly like a 23 year old blond model, but she’s a high level federal agent, packing a glock. She has body armor in her car. Weird, huh? ). She’s still acting a bit like a happy tourist and would like to go down to that mad house. The Taste, in my opinion, is Grant Park packed with people and a million points of salmonella. Bacino’s Pizza, around the corner here, has a giant truck parked out front and they load it up with 7.00 pizzas and drive them down to the park to sit in the sun for a couple hours before they sell them for 15.00. The owner told us he would sell 17,000 pizzas over the next few days. We have the best sushi place in town half a block away; they’re taking their maki rolls down there to steam in the sun as well. It’s supposed to thunderstorm this afternoon so I may be able to talk her into a manicure at Bien Sortie and a Bacino’s pizza here.

I do believe I’ll take my camera along on this trip to Washington. You all want to see Miz Mary, right? Check in for an update and have a great 4th of July. Try not to blow off your fingers.

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15 responses to “Go-in on a jet plane, tra-la

  1. Mr. Rhett informs me that in the last two pictures of his darling Sophie… she has her back to the camera and he cannot see her magnificent eyes. He is not pleased. I told him that she was probably just tired of being bothered with the flashy light and clicky noise of the camera… he can’t understand that concept either.

    Have a good time in DC…. My Nyssa is going to be up that direction as well for the weekend.. her final gathering with her college friends before they head off to their grad schools and jobs.

  2. Oh, do have a wonderful time. The only time I was in DC was after school was out one year. I’ve never been so hot in my life…literally became ill. I’d love to go back sometime in fairer weather.

    I love your description about the body when it reaches a certain age. Have you read Nora Ephron’s book, I Feel Bad about My Neck? A hoot, and so true. She says one should love her neck while she’s young because at 43, it all begins to go south.

  3. Only mad dogs and Englishmen go to DC in the summer. But the fireworks are spectacular, particularly if you can see them from your hotel window or roof.

    Speaking of Englishmen, did you know that DC is considered a tropical posting for the British Navy? They make all the US sailors jealous, ’cause they get to wear shorts. Look for cute guys in white!

  4. I have been in DC for the 4th of July; saw the fireworks over the mall from Key Bridge (I think) and it was great, but the crowds, heat and humidity were not. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

    Also hope that if Rich ever has to come to Raleigh, you’ll accompany him so we can meet up. I’m probably lumpier than you are – so it won’t matter….LOL

  5. I am uber-jealous that you are meeting Mary! And, I can’t quite believe that her blog’s readability is Elementary School — not with her prolific use of words not allowed at an Elementary School. Still, I can’t wait for the report of your visit. DC is one of my favorite cities even in the Summer but on the 4th? Wow. You are brave!

  6. I imagine Miz S will prove to be pretty darn cool.
    Enjoy the fireworks.

  7. Mary’s big secret is that she is one of the kindest people on the planet and one that shy people (bccause most of us bloggers are you know) need not fear.

    Wish I could be there with you two.

  8. ELEMENTARY SCHOOL LEVEL?!?

    Man, I need to work on the complexity of my written expression.

  9. Also? I’m thinking of using “younger and less lumpy” as my new blog subtitle.

  10. I was in Boston for the Fourth once. Some day I’d like to try the Capitol on her birthday.

    Goin’ on a jet plane sounds better than Leavin’ on a jet plane. Either way, better you than me. I’m still not flying.

    So . . . what’s the deal with Chicago now having the highest sales tax of any city in North America? That’s what I heard anyway. Guess we’re going to be staying in Michigan for our annual fall vacation. Don’t have to fly and there are still some microbrewerers in the U.P. we have to visit to complete our list. And sales tax is still 6 percent.

    I like your verbosity in your post here. I’m always learning new words. (maybe verbosity isn’t the right word but you know what I mean)

  11. On Dave’s heels. Not that he’s a heel. Hell! He’ll never heal from being called a heel!

    “When I’m not with Mary and he’s not in meetings we can be in a nice hotel room together. And there will be fireworks.” You’re bringing those molasses cookies along?!

    A double ration of rum and an artillery salute to you on the 4th, dear Vicki!

  12. Damn, that was fun.

  13. Darn. I thought you might actually be in AA this weekend since I saw in today’s paper that NOMO is playing at Top of the Park. And I still won’t get a chance to hear them because we had prior plans. Maybe one of these days…

    And I guess I’ll have to get to Chicago or St. Pete some time soon if I want to see you again. My niece started at Loyola last year and I had this great plan to take Megan to visit her next year while I visited with you but my niece screwed up my plans by transferring to UM.

    Have fun in D.C.

  14. I am ponderously self-conscious now of my formerly spartan use of complex vocabulary.

    oh, yeah, and someone pooped next to the roomba. I have a feeling his name rhymes with “Icky”.

    Love,
    Sparky

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