Thursday, June 01, 2006
It's no longer Wednesday, but this is still Boise
Perhaps you sensed my frustration last night when I spent more than an hour loading images and writing about my arrival in Boise only to have blogger.com hiccup and lose it all. So I did the rationale thing. I cursed blogger.com and watched television instead of attempting a rewrite.
But I won't it slide. It wasn't brilliant prose, but it seemed so at the time and now I will be overcome this feeling of deja vu as I attempt to recreate the post. Thus is my lot in life.
Regardless, I arrived in Boise on Tuesday after a relatively uneventful flight from Seattle, uneventful that is, save for a lead flight attendant who staved off boredom by engaging in a standup comedy routine that wasn't half bad. I particularily enjoyed his nontraditional banter when he chided boarding passengers with, "You aren't shopping for furniture here, just pick a seat and sit down so we can finish loading the plane and take off."
A flight from Seattle to Boise is almost over as soon as it begins. You are handed a drink. It is taken away and you land. I snagged my luggage quickly, enjoying that fact that I've never seen Boise's airport crowded. I proceeded to the rental car counter and listened to the rental clerk try to convince me to upgrade from my economy car to a Chyrsler 300 because it has a Hemi. I don't know what a Hemi is other than rednecks get wood when you talk about them. I declined. The clerk gave me the Chrysler 300 anyway for the economy car price because it was the only one ready. I didn't bother to debate his logic. It is a nice car with leather seats, a sunroof and of course, a Hemi.
It was too early to check into my 2 1/2 star hotel so I drove straight to my mom's house listening to 60s and 70s classic rock. I think it is something about Boise's geography, but you can only get radio stations that play 60s and 70s classic rock. I find it comforting. Plus I did find the Hemi somewhat arousing.
When I arrived at my mom's house, she was in the yard having just finished mowing the lawn, weeding her garden and splitting a cord of wood. She is 81-years old, but she is pretty active. I hugged my mom and then dashed for the door, trying to keep her dog Duchess from buring her nose in my crotch. When the dog isn't killing squirrels, she can get pretty amorous and I'm pretty sure she doesn't have a Hemi.
Mom's house, of course, has not changed since my last visit. I immediately whipped out my computer, sat down, and started grilling my mother about her family. This may seem callous, but this is the prime reason for this trip to Boise, spend quality time with my mom and uncover as much as possible about my family history. Plus it is important to engage my mother in a firm topic or we would soon be discussing the time her radiator hose broke in 1997.
After a few hours, I had gathered some great anecdotes about my mother's childhood. Other than the peanuts on the flight from Seattle, I hadn't eaten. I declined my mother's offer of a Banquet frozen dinner and told her I'd pick her up the next day for lunch and a quick trip to the cemetary to pay respects to some of my ancestors (that's another blog post). I then drove off in the Chrysler 300 with the Hemi to check into my 2 1/2 star hotel and then get something to eat.
On the way, the oldies station played Neil Diamond's "Shilo." I took this as a sign, since this is where I am staying...the Shilo Inn at the Airport and right next door to a truck stop. Actually it is quite convenient since the truck stop has a Subway shop and a Taco Bell Express. At least I won't starve. Plus the truck stop does free bench checks of your CB radio. That's pretty cool.
I consider stepping into a hotel room for the first time much like ripping the wrapping paper off from a present at Christmas. This room is underwear. I would have preferred a bicycle. But that is okay. It is clean and functional. And they have a workout room that so far only I seem to use and an outdoor pool that they claim is heated. Each time I've used it, I feel as though I deserve membership in the Polar Bear Club.
So that is the lost Boise arrival post in a nutshell. I've spent the past three days with my mother taking notes and going over old photos. Plus there was one trip to the cemetary. These will be subjects of future blogs (or not).
For now I think it is time to return to the television. I'm fascinated at how small everything looks on a 19-inch screen.
Posted by Time at 6:59 PM