Sunday catch up

Oct 18, 2006

At Camp Casa Luna

Cassayuna, New York

The dozen or so family member are assembled outide on the patio, talking about real estate, assembling a complex puzzle, reading, knitting, and some inside cleaning up from lunch. The tree are blowing shit everywhere, including something that seems to have landed under my “S” key, making my typing rhythm somewhat difficult.

Here on the lake, there is no cell signal at all, and no cable, television signal, television, DVD player, and a rotary dial telephone with limited service. It’s enforced socialization.

Earlier today, Edgar, Sam and I trekked into Greenwich to pick up a few things and re-visit the nearly abandoned railroad yard in town. It was refreshing to have a few minutes of relative solitude. In a few hours, my stepbrother arrives from New Hampshire, and the birthday celebrating begins. Tomorrow morning, about 1/3 of the guests leave, and then I’m out of here at 6:30 Sunday morning.

The flight up was very nice. Bram dropped me off at Intercontinental, and I had an hour before departure when I hopped out of the car. Nearly fifty minutes in line for security – no one seemed to know anything at all about where to go, or the fastest way to get through. The side of the security lines that I chose had only one lane open. I walked up to gate C16 and was there just in time for final boarding. The plane was a nearly new 767-224ER that’s usually used on overseas routes; I was in the second row of coach, against the window wall, but had no window at my seating position. I was seated behind a couple who were very nice, and serious recliners. They both knocked back as far as the seatbacks would allow seconds after rotation from the runway, and kept their seats in the oral surgery position until landing. Next to me was a funny little guy who kept twisting and pushing up to see out the window (which was a row behind us,) and pulling on his crotch. I mean – PULLING on his crotch. Over and over. I kept wondering what sort of condition would make one’s penis that uncomfortable.

Walked off the plane at C76, right on time, and left out of C101A, which was a walk of one gate to the main terminal, over one pier, and out to the first gate. I barely had time to pee and they began boarding the XJT flight to Albany. Those Brasilian Barbie Dream jets have not been holding up well – I remember well when they all came into service five to seven years ago, and they look like .. well, like my sister’s car.

Since our arrival in Albany, I’ve been stripped of my normal internet access, except for a daily jaunt into Greenwich, which allows for intermittent signal. I’ve been checking my email using my Treo, and only answering those emails which were vital. Fun stuff.

I cannot remember a family gathering (for this family, anyway) in which there were no hostilities. Amazing. Perhaps it’s the six vats of cheap white wine.

Their lake cottage (called a “camp” up here in upstate New York) has bats galore. At dusk, one can see them swooping out of the furnace vent – dozens of them. They’re fun to watch, but one has to wonder about all the bat guano that’s deposited into the attic and the furnace unit.

This afternoon, my task is to shuck thirty-six ears of fresh corn. Later, I’m sure that there will be clean-up duties; tomorrow will involve quite a bit of cleanup to assist after the departure of the first 1/3 of guests.

Will there be another trip into town tomorrow? It’s hard to say.

This cottage is just as cute as it could be; they have worked so hard on this place. Most of the neighbors’ places look like Green Acres, complete with junked 1977 Plymouths and other dead appliances as yard art.

It’s almost time for today’s big afternoon nap.

August 20, 2006

Newark Liberty (how noxious) International Airport

In search of a wireless connection. And a decent cup of coffee; I seem to be in a nasty coffee zone. Four dollars and two cups of coffee later, none of it is drinkable.

So, it’s been since the 16^th that I’ve been able to nab and internet signal and actually connect with my world. I’ve been able to check email occasionally using my Treo, but that’s imperfect.

It’s a sunny, brilliant day here in Newark, after strong rain at Casa Luna that lasted all night long. The rain continued this morning until I dashed inside at the Albany airport for my 0630 flight – at 0540. I was up this morning at 0330, waiting until 0410 for my cousin to get out of the shower so I could finish getting ready. She’s an interesting study. The whole family is, actually. They’re lovely people, especially when we first get together. After a few days, though, the turd bombs start coming fast and furiously.

As my aunt Kay left yesterday morning, she advised me that I really needed to lost weight, as I looked like I was five months pregnant. Then, my aunt Jackie chimed in saying that they were only concerned for my health. Mind, they never ASKED about my health, only assumed that it had to be bad since I was fat. Last evening, I volunteered to cook, and the same aunt suggested that I should clean up after also. Since I’d not been helpful enough up until then, of course. Yesterday morning also, my stepmother volunteered to the group assembled that it was unfair of us to impose on Debbie to take us to the airport at the ungodly hour of 0430, and we should find a motel near the airport. Then, she assumed (verbally, for everyone’s enjoyment) that neither I nor my cousin Jay would have the money to do that, and they’d end up having to pay for it.

Interestingly, Debbie was looking FORWARD to taking us to the airport, as it would give her several hours of solitude from the four days of eight to sixteen Hords talking over each other endlessly at a high volume.

Debbie and Wendy have a smashing lake cottage; it was featured on the first page of the living section in today’s Schenectady Gazette. I picked up a copy in Albay’s airport. It’s quite the article.

Newark Liberty is very international this morning – Peter Max is here at gate 110, ElAl has a 747-400 parked at B61, Singapore has a brand new A340-500 tits up with a busted #1 engine at B59. Virgin has an A340-200 over in lower numbered B gates. The airport is already busy as you can imagine, even at 0800.

I’m now headed back to the land of air conditioning. I’ve been damp for five days. They don’t use ceiling fans. They have the windows open – I had to ask someone what that meant. They don’t use air conditioning in the CAR for god’s sake. They do have XM radio, but that’s … IT.

Who made this coffee? Die Hard by Sears? Yurg. I’m giving up on the java idea and heading toward the gate for some wireless signal.

Am I wireless now?

CRAP - the people in Stafford sold the damned car.

More after I get back to the land of air conditioning.