Kona tales

B and I could not get seats together on the flight to Kona and that turned out to be a good thing because I was seated beside two very cool guys.  One was a corporate jet pilot who worked for "a large financial institution", as he put it.  Retired from the US air force, Ray now makes a ton of dough flying people around the world in Gulf Stream jets.  I used to be a white-knuckle flyer many, many years ago, but overcame it by reading books on aerodynamics, i.e., why the hell planes actually stay in the air?!  It used to be about as logical to me as a concrete block flying.

"Young pilots today don't really know how to fly planes," he added unhelpfully.  Say what?!  "No, it's pretty much all done by computer, so if they get into trouble and actually have to fly the aircraft, they don't always make the right decisions."  Great thing to tell someone who secretly still really doesn't like to fly.     

"It's all about lift and thrust, that's the trick," I said to Ray.  "Yeah, that's the good stuff.  You can't come down if life-and-thrust are OK," he replied.  I knew that.  He was going to Kona to watch his daughter compete in the Iron Man, as were we to watch son-in-law, Colin.  Ray is also a triathlete.  I felt like a slob.  Why do I never wear makeup when I should!!??

Naturally, talk turned to the Canadian health-care system.  "Is it really bad?" asked Ray.  "No, it's great," I replied.  If you need critical care you get it right away, I explained.  Then I had to tell him all about Parliamentary democracy, the benefits of our un-elected Senate, provincial transfer payments from the "have" to the "have-not" provinces (this one floored him)....and on and on.  It's amazing how little Americans know of Canada. 

The guy on my right was a big, burly man.  Guess what he was?  A nurse practioner, with a wife who was a marine biologist.  Amazing what you find out when you interview people!

Had a great time in "Ha-vie-ee", as the locals pronounce it.  But what a mess race day was for B and I!  Had to park a thousand miles away and walk to the start.  Of course, we missed the swim and could not cross the road to see the bike start.  Duh!  One woman stupidly crossed the road, was hit by a cyclist and lay there almost dead until they could clear a path for an ambulance. 

I mean, if you're that dumb, die.  These guys are pounding out of the transition at 50 km's per hour and they are not going to stop the race and screw up everyone's time for "Big Bertha" who lumbers into their path.

Here she is in all her glory, laid out with bikes whizzing past at break-neck speed.

 

Never have I seen so many perfect specimens of the human body.  Remember, the competitors in Kona are the best in their respective countries.  No punters here.  It's not exactly the "Graham Beasley" in Carleton Place, where you have people doing the dog paddle, getting on a tric with training wheels and then jogging.  No.  These men and women are the cream of the crop from all over the world.  Our son-in-law did magnificently, 9 hours, 50 minutes.

Had to laugh about the Russians who were staying in our villa.  They were always parading around in their "Iron Man finery", but the night clerk told us they bailed halfway through the bike part.  Could not take the heat. 

More tales later.                        

Flip-laps

"Don't forget your flip-laps 'Amma," says grandson Jack, as we are about to venture to the beach in Galveston yesterday.  "My what?"  "Your flip-laps!"  Asked because I just wanted to hear him say it again.  Too cute.  "Alligators" are "elevators"........plus a host of other slightly off words, as he begins to master English.  And don't even get me started on adorable granddaughter Caitlin.  She is all vowels and consonants; words aren't really her speciality yet, but you can certainly understand her.

"Are those are my clothes?" asks Jack, spying the piles destined for our other grandson, Reed.  "Yes, and it's so nice of you to give them to him," I add.  "Baby Reed needs these clothes," confirms Jack generously.  How sweet. 

Just walked in the door from our visit to Houston.  At the airport dropping us off, Sarah wasn't sure of the terminal (Houston has a ton), so she asked B to get out and ask.  In he lumbers.  As he stood staring blankly at a hundred screens, Sarah lept out of the car and ran up to the first-class agent.  "Excuse me," said our veteran of the hospitality industry, "My parents are old and I am trying to help them check in.  Where should they go?"  (She knows how to deal with people perfectly, just act dumb and pity takes over.)  "I'll take them right here," the agent says.  In we schlep and her supervisor says, "Are you first-class?"  "I'm taking them here," says the first-class agent.  The supervisor backs off.  So bing, bang, boom, we drop off our bags, brilliant Sarah having checked us in earlier from home.

Then it's off to security screening, where B is asked to practically stip naked.  "My pants will fall down if I take off my belt," he explains.  "I'm sorry, sir, you have to remove your belt."  "Well, it won't be the first time I've dropped my pants in public," he deadpans.  The two agents burst into laughter.  Charmingly, having lost a bunch of weight, his trousers settled endearingly around his knobby knees.  Too bloody funny!

I always "beep" because I won't take off my bracelets and bling for anyone.  Usually I get "wanded", but today it was the full body scan x-ray.  Hey, enjoy my derriere in technicolour!

Then it's off to another "Priority Lounge".  But in Houston, there is actually no actual food...actually.   Just fruit and cheese and crackers, oh, and booze.  So we snacked and then boarded the plane, to be met by two "old" stewardesses.  I love the fact that they don't force them to retire at 30-something anymore.  Why did women put up with this for so many thousand years??!!  A sad and demeaning North American version of the burkha, for G-d's sake.  These ladies were in their fifties....B estimated even 60s.  "I have worked for United since I started 30 years ago," replied one when B indelicately asked how long she had been with United.  Geeze, B, why not just ask her her friggin' age!! 

Style alert:  stewardesses have the most fabulous jewellery -- absolutely expensive and perfectly elegant.  But I gotta tell you once again, a $5 pair of earrings from Shoppers out-does expensive every time. 

Well, off to Kona tomorrow!     

More shoes

They were originally $89.99, marked down to $44.95.  In Canada they would have been a bargain at $180.00.  A gorgeous pair of shiny, toe-cleavage, fuschia and orange high heels.  "Hey, what about these?", Sarah said, browsing the summer clearance aisles.  I hadn't noticed them, but Sarah always finds the best buys.  Yep, we were rummaging through DSW, "Discount Shoe Warehouse", on a mission to buy one of my favourite wardrobe items:  high heels.  (There's a reason this blog has the title it has.)

Generous almost to a fault, Sarah had dug out all her DSW coupons before we left.  Cashing them in at the checkout (they always honour the expired ones), what did I actually end up paying for these fabulous "Liz Claiborne's"?  $2.00.  Would that ever happen in Canada?  Never, ever, ever.

Then it was off to "Charming Charlie's", a huge outlet jammed with another of my favourites: accessories.  They have everything imaginable required to take the "little black dress" from drab to fab.  And I nailed it.  It was $9.97 for these earrings, $12.97 for that choker, $5.47 for this bracelet..........walked out with about 10 new outfits for $60 bucks.  As I have said, when I had no money, I learned how to "dress for (much) less"....as they say.

It's always about the earrings, the necklace and the shoes.  Period.  The end. 

        

 

More tales from Houston.......

Went to Mass at St. John Vianney Parish this morning.  Absolutely huge!  Must have been 1,200 people there.  And the choir!  Nothing amateurish about it.  A full, professional chorale, instruments and all.

The homily was.....well, "interesting" to say the least.  A full condemnation of:

• divorce
• adultery
• homosexuality
• pornography
• sex abuse (oops, a few priests in on that one)
• same-sex marriage
• contraception
• hooking up
• casual sex 
• promiscuity
• child abuse, and
• the internet in general

Whew!  Sarah and I kept poking, and looking askance at, each other.  Reminded me of the old Oratorians at St. Brigid's Parish in Ottawa back in the '80s.  Actually changed parishes when they took over.  Yes, Texan catholics are very conservative!  Hmmm, come to think of it, Jesus wasn't mentioned once.  It was straight politics, something you would never hear in Calgary.  "Gee, if one of my children turns out to be gay, I guess I'll have to stop coming to Mass," said Sarah sarcastically.  "How dumb and wrong would that be," I added.

Interestingly, the priest said, "Funny how homosexuals want to get married and heterosexuals don't."  Yes, most gay couples are very conservative and family-oriented, but I don't think he meant it in the positive way that I do.

As a practicing Catholic, I tend to ignore a lot of the Church....like the Pope, unrealistic or vicious homilies and sin and stuff...and focus on what I enjoy:  the music, the ceremony, the candles, the incense and the ritual.  The rest of it can pretty much disappear.

Well, time for turkey.

p.s.  Yes, son-in-law and family chef John always celebrates Canadian Thanksgiving.  What a peach.   

         

      

The heat is wonderful

Yep, Houston is hot, but after leaving Calgary in a snow storm, I am loving it.  Everything is very green and verdant -- there are even little lizards scampering throughout the garden.  Grandchildren have absolutely no fear of them, so I can't show any squeamishness. 

Bought a book for the flight here, but made the mistake of picking up the "Sky Mall" catalogue.  Could not put it down.  Who buys this stuff??  I mean, do you need a "shady visor with a built in toupee"?  Seriously.  There is a "before and after" shot of the bald guy and then the transformation to a full head of fake hair sticking out of the top of the visor.  Hideous.

What about a "head and eye massager"?  For $199.99, you strap on a helmut-like contraption, plug it in and bingo, a personal head, temple and eye massage.  And hey, you gotta have a "Shoe de-odourizer", "the better way to kill the germs and fungus that cause foot odour", a plug-in shoe tree that gives off UV rays.  It's amazing!  And the pet section is even more extreme, with special beds, mattresses crates and doors for your pampered dog or cat. 

"Treat plantar fasciitis heel pain with a massage" reads another.  "Simply roll your feet over the sphere and allow the textured, knobby surface to provide a deep tissue massage."  Only 19.99 for a flimsy, plastic ball.  You can also encase your entire body with wrap-around hot and cold packs.  $80.00.

You could not make any of this up.

May not gain 100 pounds.  Daughter Sarah's neighbour came over with a guest pass for me to her health club.  How nice is that!  So, did my laps in an outdoor pool this morning.  Haven't been in an outdoor pool since I went with my other daughter in the UBC pool four years ago.  So great.

Well, off to a neighbourhood chilli cookoff.  



 

Back in another airport

Well, here I am in the priority pass lounge (think it's called The Chinook) at the Calgary airport, awaiting a flight to Houston to visit step-daughter's family for grandson Jack's fourth birthday.  As I have blogged before, were it not for these lounges, I would never, ever, ever fly.  But here I can blog, while enjoying a lovely glass of wine and a turkey club.  For the record, I am studiously avoiding the racks of those addictive "Miss Vickie's", good for me! 

Thanks to the fact that we had.....wait for it.....a big snow storm(!!) last night, all the flights are delayed.  But you still have to get here at the same time, "in the event we will be able to depart sooner," says the recording on the phone.  But never mind, when you finally get through customs and security, if you buy a priority pass every year you can stand it in perfect comfort.  (It's not really that expensive, look into it.)  Everything in these places is covered, so you don't have to get out your wallet to eat and drink.

Back to getting a boarding pass.  What's up with those friggin' "self check-in" kiosks??!!  Who the hell can ever figure them out.  After following all the prompts and touching this screen and that and giving more information than you would need for security clearance at the PCO, it tells me I have to "see an agent for transaction completion".  Apparently the hyphenated last name is the problem.  G-d!   

Isn't getting out of town a painful chore?  What with dealing with garbage, food that might spoil, cancelling the paper, changing the message on the phone, making sure the alarm is functioning, asking the neighbours to keep an eye on the place, putting the wooden poles into the door and window tracks so they can't be opened...you name it, has to be dealt with.  But I am looking forward to the hot weather in Houston and seeing my grandchildren.

With no swimming for a week, will probably gain a 100 pounds at a bare minimum.  Yuck to that.  Speaking of grandchildren, spent yesterday afternoon with nine-month-old Reed.  We went swimming and exploring.  What a gift it is to be around this little person, the only reason I am living in Calgary.

Well, won't be blogging for a week.  Oh, by the way, wanted to comment on Justin Trudeau's entry into the race.  I have known Justin from afar since he was a kid at the same school ours went to.  Unfortunately, he has more of Margaret than Pierre in his genes.  But he will definitely win and he will definitely beat Harper.....goes without saying Mulcair is toast.  I only hope Harper accelerates his agenda in the interim.  Justin will take us back to the bad, old Liberal days of deficit spending and free-wheeling immigration policy.

Oh, dear, oh dear.                  

So, Dan............

This is for "Hairburner".  Out for dinner on notorious 17th Avenue this evening and was seated beside an absolutely gorgeous young woman!  You have to know that the average age in Calgary is 34, so we are always the geezers everywhere we go.  But!  But!  But! Not to let them see the whites of my eyes, I usually spot something.  This evening it was her hair. 

Trimmed tightly around the ears and back, it was about three to four inches long on top.  Stunning jet black.  "You are gorgeous," I said to her.  Surprised, she said, "Thank you so much."  Her hair was upright, but not gelled or stiff.  Some of it then curled down over her forehead, the rest was bolt upright.  "What do you use to get your hair that way?" I asked.  "Hair clay and wax," she replied.  "I don't want it greasy."  Took her picture with my phone, but have no clue how to insert it into this blog.  Duh. 

So, Dan, what do you think?  What was she doing with her hair to get it so beautifully tousled, yet stationary?  What the h-ll is hair clay?  I await your expert comments.

p.s.  Canada's darling, Barbara Ann Scott, died yesterday.  Before Nancy Greene, there was Barbara Ann, the only woman ever to have won gold for Canada at the Olympics in figure skating.  1948.  I remember seeing her perform at the Minto Skating Club on Argyle Street, where the YMCA now sits.  She did a spiral and glided all around the rink without stopping.  It was magical!  How she kept moving I will never know?