The Little Words Mean the Most

An outdoor hotdog occasion to celebrate the land

Gina's new banana car; Gina firepit master; the provisions for 3 including Sam; the view @ sunset including a glacial erratic and a well-built dry-stone New England wall from the dairy farm that once clomped here

I love what's left of my life; just this morning....

 

spoke to AK; will speak again to AK later today

spoke to TX

heard from New Orleans

planned a tree-rubbish roast of hotdogs in my own backyard this afternoon

promised to stay sober enough not to fall into the fire

writing a first-of-its-kind workbook for a national charity, based on new research conducted on several continents (the very same reason I'm drinking chardonnay at 11:30 in the morning; these biggie things sometimes require a fresh, sloppy point of view)

still: running out of relevance

Sim One: you took me away from just me thank you very much

 

 

This was us

 

No more now

without you barking reasonable orders

down grocery aisles

 

umm just a fool

without a queen

nor any great desire to feedly care look presume know

 

I ended when you upended

yet breath goes on

remainder is mine and

this so-called person left unpaired

only

can

maybe inspired enough

to roll our this maybe faith bin a bit further

a well-inflated tire

headed somewhere

 

replying to my Southwest Airlines survey

 

I gave them 5 stars stars stars stars stars overall

(based on personal interactions with staff)

 

Yet:

 

Pre-pandemic, I was on a flight every 2 weeks or so. Routine for my business (training serious fundraising pros around the world). Southwest is always worth considering, when traveling in the US.

DCA Southwest, though, is UGLY and discomforting.

Unless absolutely necessary, I will now avoid Southwest's DCA arrival/departure in the future. It's sardine-packed squalid. Not evil exactly; clumsy and indifferent: just a reminder that the US has 330 million residents; everyone's different; and simple amenities matter a lot in terms of fast impressions.

Toilets were surprisingly OK (grade B).

Food/drink offerings, though, were bizarre: either a tunnel of grab-me's, where payment was understaffed and not-well-signed; or a bar that never had an open seat thanks to loiterers on their laptops.

General seating in the ready was a D-to-flunk: too many passengers, too few chairs; many standees (me included).

CONCLUSION: In one visit, as I was wearily departing DC to go home to RI, Southwest trained me to avoid DCA at all costs in the future.

What do I know? Maybe demand exceeds supply SO much that Southwest can inflate its middle-finger in the air for now.

For ever?

To repeat: In one visit, when I departed DC to go home to RI ... Southwest trained me to avoid DCA at all costs.

So, my beloved Southwest, do you need a UX (User Experience) analyst at Southwest DCA?

 

Sooner/better.

 

Grump-companionally yours,

Turned-Off Traveler (though will fly SW other places; but DCA outbound is a shit-show)

 

How to douse a fruit-fly infestation?

 

Step #1: Drink an open glass of chardonnay.

Step #2: Any fruit flies in the vicinity will dive-bomb into your glass.

Step #3: Drink them. They're protein.

 

What happens when you say OK

 

The Yoda thing ...

AND great tacos show up on your front step

Figuring out the food for some serious shop talk (with bourbon)

 

Dear M...

 

Your house this time? I'll bring bourbon-appropriate food ...

 

There are 2 ways to go:

 

I sometimes say I have no hobbies. But I do. Simone was one. Another is BBQ ... which is seriously bourbon-appropriate food.

 

When I was on an airplane every 2 weeks, and my hosts wanted to take me out for dinner, to fend off white tablecloth restaurants, I'd ask, "How's the local BBQ?" Because of that I've eaten in some great joints: TX, MO, Little Rock, Detroit.

 

Well, the best BBQ east of the Mississippi used to be just over the state line from me in Danielson, CT. But they closed two summers ago. And then I discovered this place: Gotta Q in Cumberland, RI.

 

It's exquisite ...some of the best I've had; this is the real stuff. And they are bourbon mad, with a well-stocked bar.

 

Way #1: Sometimes I just swing by and pick up an order ... then drive to someone's house. {Here's the menu.}

 

Way #2: Sometimes I meet people there (if they're coming from out of state) and we just swoon for a couple of hours.

 

Either is great for me. It's an easy detour coming in from Foster, with pick-up in Cumberland (a minute off I-295), then a fast run to East Greenwich: pretty much all highway. If that's good for you, M., let's time it for mid-afternoon (re: avoiding some traffic). You look at the menu. Tell me what you'd like (don't be shy; things run out: last time they didn't have any Texas caviar). I'll order it and pick it up and drive your way in a car that smells suddenly edible. Portions are sizeable. Feel free to order for Sophia, too. And feel free to order for leftovers the next day (I tend to buy some additional baked beans, which are rich with meat strands).

 

~ tom

 

 

For all you Zoomers ... Shared by Lee K.

At the new Shady diner, Ashley's hand-hewn fries called...

 

... to a certain someone ... who protested she'd already had too many potatoes that day, for breakfast and for a snack ... and her name is:

 

Thank you for asking about the indignities, Mag: Today's colonoscopy

 

Mag...

 

... what's undignified about a team of crack medical pros wondering why a male's buttocks grow so hairy ... then the meat object of their attentions floats away on an anesthesia yacht ... then (but you have no idea) comes the probe, with a camera and clippers ... and then you awake after a wonderful dream I can't recall and wish to return to as a brisk young nurse leans over me, demanding that I and all her other patients "pass the gas"? ¶ It's that kind of place. Then Ashley B. drives me home; she's dubbed me her "fundraising father," a minor trophy alongside her bio-dad.

 

went well actually. No obvious problems. Couple of polyps (same as last time). Next time is either 3 or 5 years off, depending on what the biopsies show.

 

You, my dear friend, are lovely to ask. More "the best brownies this side of Mars" some day. My freezer's out.

 

~ tom