September 07, 2005
Chippewa Falls, Part I: U.S.S. Disfunctional
Six a.m. is disorientingly early to be getting in the car to drive 320 miles to Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. And it's even worse embarking on said trip with Mom and Dad in the car.
Remember Sigourney Weaver's character -- Gwen DeMarco as "Lt. Tawny Madison" -- in "Galaxy Quest"? Her job on the Star Trek-esque spaceship was to talk to the computer because she was the only one it would respond to or something.
"I have one job on this ship! It's stupid, but I'm going to do it!"
I was Lt. Madison on the U.S.S. Disfunctional. It was my job to talk to Dad.
Now, Mom knows that Dad is half-deaf. I know she knows because she complains about it all the time. But does she compensate for that when she talks? Does the woman, who makes it necessary to hold the phone two feet away from my head while having a phone conversation with her, raise her voice to talk to her husband? No.
She mumbles something from the back seat, and then it's my job to repeat it loudly to Dad, who then answers it loudly, as if Mom were the one whose hearing has been compromised by the ravages of time and way too many homemade explosive/firearm experiments.
So you can see why it was a loooooooooooooong drive, eh?
Luckily, we're mostly not a chatty family, so it wasn't a constant thing. Well, Mom's chatty, but only with herself.
There was a fourth person in my car. Emily. She looks like a pixie, plays bagpipes and is quite adept with a seatbelt, as she demonstrated over and over in helping Mom buckle-up for safety.
Soon after we stopped for breakfast at McDonald's, Dad licked his napkin and started rubbing furiously at the middle console/armrest in my car. I figured he had sloshed some coffee, but then I remember the gaping wounds that he sustained on his left arm when the fireplace at the cabin jumped right out in front of him in the middle of the night.
"DAD! Did you get blood on my car?!"
"Yeah. The scabs are starting to come off."
"Oh, for the love of -- do you have some Band-Aids handy?"
"Yeah."
"Well? PUT THEM ON!"
Technically, he probably should have gotten stitches, but when he went to the local Door County tavern for medical help, they just gave him some Band-Aids and a Manhattan. But chicks dig scars, so he's all set.
Still, as much as the folks can make me wish they had sold me to the gypsies as a child, I think I got the drop on them. I had Emily bring some of the CDs, and I inflicted bagpipe music upon them for several hours straight. MWAH HA HA HA HA HAAAAAA!
I love 'pipe and drums.
When I was little, and the whole family would pile in the car and drive to Door County, I would take two Dramamine and pass out in the far-back of the station wagon with the dog and the luggage. And now you know why.
Tomorrow: Chippewa Falls, Part II: Dinner in the Storm
Comments
Dramamine is the drug of the car-sick gods!
Posted by: Queen of Ass at September 8, 2005 12:44 PM