My give-a-shit meter is close to zero. I’m in a rage slump, kind of like a manic-depressive on the down cycle. Something will set me off again, probably sooner than later, and I’ll be back to normal, ranting and raving about injustice, racism, and stupidity. Ooh, did I just feel a rage twinge there?
So how ’bout them Duggars? Meh. The Christian right can forgive just about anything, so long as the sinners are white. Caitlyn Jenner? I cared for half a New York minute, then found out she’s just cashing in. Dennis Hastert? What a surprise. Good thing we have American media to distract us any kind of news that might actually affect us, eh?
Donna hurt her back again last night and she’s going to see the doc today. I hope she gets some relief (she did: they gave her some pain pills, which usually help). She’s retired for good now and we’re adjusting to being home together all day, every day. It’ll probably be harder on me than on her; she turned on the TV the other morning and I was (privately) appalled. Daytime TV? In OUR house? Thank goodness I had the foresight to set up a rocking chair and reading corner in the master bedroom, far away from the TV end of the house.
Meanwhile at the air museum: ride-alongs with tram docents to learn the ropes. I started leading walking tours four years ago, and while the museum doesn’t give walking tour docents a script, they do give us a list of specific aircraft to talk about. Once we cover those exhibits we have about ten minutes free time and can talk about whatever we want. Tram docents seem to have a freer hand: not only don’t they have a script, they can choose which of the 100+ outdoor aircraft they want to talk about on any particular day. I’m sure most tram docents settle into a routine and cover the same exhibits every time, but they don’t have to. My plan is to learn something about each of the outdoor aircraft, in case visitors ask questions, but of course I have my favorites and those are the ones I’ll probably talk about. I’m up about switching over from walking tours to the tram. I could say I’m excited, but don’t want to get carried away.
I think, now that visitor season is over, we can start planning our late summer road trip. We have three mandatory destinations: Chico CA (Donna’s Aunt Joyce), Portland OR (InterAmericas Hash), and Bremerton WA (our niece Rebecca). We’d like to see a couple of old friends in Sacramento, and neither of us have ever been to Yosemite, but those are optional stopovers at this point. Distances are such that we’ll have to overnight in one or two places where we don’t know anyone. Right now I’m waiting for Donna’s pain pill to kick in so we can look at Google Maps together.
The road trip, by the way, will be an early 50th anniversary present to ourselves (with the onset of daytime TV in this once-quiet house I’d say us lasting that long is a 50/50 proposition at best JUST KIDDING DONNA).
Hell, I need to snap out of DGAS mode. I’m going to think about Dick Cheney for a while. That should do it.