For several weeks I dropped out of all news content. Usually it’s a planned effort to maintain perspective while the press shrieks “Ignore the forest! Stare at all these trees!” This go round it was just the mundane chaos of life. I did the following:
- Woke up to a flat tire. I manfully jacked up the truck and swapped tires in front of a hotel room in the middle of nowhere. As far as I can tell the entire town drank coffee and watched.
- Miles later, approaching midnight in a crowded city in a different time zone, I drove over a nail and toasted a different tire. I called it a night and parked at the nearest hotel. Nothing says “fun” like pulling dual wheels in the snow at dawn and that’s precisely what I did.
- Fortunately the third flat, in a third tire, in a third state… which made me start wondering if I was cursed, was in my driveway. All I had to do was roll around in chickenshit while it rained.
- Been physically groped by the TSA, psychologically raped by overpriced hotel drinks, shoved like cattle through chutes, and emotionally battered by the psychotic monsters in a Salt Lake City terminal. Those bastards told me they had “craft beer” and then delivered a pint of 3.2 pisswater.
- Made reservations months early, paid full freight for a flight, checked in two hours early, and still got dumped into “standby” because “fuck the customer” is apparently a valid business model.
- Stepped on a cactus. I do not blame the cactus.
- Ate a cactus. (It was a different one.)
- Slipped on ice and wound up in a ditch.
- Found a magic flashlight. (More on that later)
- Went on an adventure. (This was actually pretty cool. Maybe I’ll mention it later. Maybe I won’t.)
- Went to a rock concert. (This is VERY rare. The last time I saw live music was a long long time ago in a galaxy far far away. Mrs. Curmudgeon got the tickets and talked me into it. She loves me y’all!!!)
- Worked my ass into the ground.
Stay tuned for sober reflection as I pass from unseemly chaos back into order.
You clearly misunderstood the “psychotic monsters in a Salt Lake City terminal“. They did not say “craft beer. They instead said “crapped beer“. Albeit with a Mormon accent…
}:-]
When it rains it pours. Sometimes it also freezes.
It was your turn in the barrel.
Just think of the stories you now have.
What doesn’t kill us just puts off the inevitable.
The TSA can go rot in a special level of hell.
‘Better you than me’. Don’t blame me for saying that, I’m just passing it along from when I was going through a very rough time and that was the best a counselor could say to me. Yes, he did say that. Now you’re ‘it’.
About bloody time. My “free ice cream” jones was inching towards level 11. 😉 Seriously though, glad to hear you beat back the chaos and survived The Bug. I patiently await the well-penned, sober reflections to come.
Salt Lake City DOES have craft beer, but only in bottles, by law all draft beer is 3.2% panther piss.
Airlines are like extremely attractive single women, trying to see how much they can put a man through before he loses his shit completely.
Glad you’re back.
“As far as I can tell the entire town drank coffee and watched.”
You have my sympathy. In my case, I was in the bottom of a ten-foot hole trying to get a hole cut in a sewer line, attach the saddle connection and pipe as the light was fading and a thunderstorm was moving in, so we could get the hole back-filled before the hole filled with water. And to top it all off, nobody was shining their flash-lights so I could see to get-er-done.
Glad you made it through.