The Wingman has landed in Cali - forn –nye-ay commencing the
great move west by my eldest child. My
wife and I caught up with him last night when he answered the phone from
Ikea. He had a very productive day in
that he woke up in New York City, flew to L.A., signed his rental agreement,
got the internet set up in the apartment, turned on the electric and gas – and then
went furniture shopping. I got tired
just listening to him recount his adventures.
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| Wingman and Daughter's New Digs |
The good news is he loves the apartment which they rented
sight unseen (other than by a very perceptive friend). He said he loved the feeling of finally
getting a place that was exclusively for him and my daughter. The pods show up today and he’s got a couple
of friends lined up to help him unload.
I have to compliment my daughter on her tactical delay in arrival, avoiding
this entire nuisance (she learned something about moving as an Army brat). Wingman also related when he went so get the gas
turned on, the guy across the counter was someone he went to school with – a sign
he was returning home. He sounded
exhausted but supremely happy to be freed of the Big Apple’s frozen
environment. We’re so happy for both of
them – there’s even a few palm trees on their street.
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| My Daughter on Mulholland Drive From an Earlier Visit |
Earlier in the day I received a frantic call from my wife just
as I was going into a meeting (she has that innate skill in timing her
emergency calls). She claimed the car
(actually my car since I’m in the rental doing penance for idiocy) had broken
down. She was in the town CVS parking
lot after smelling a strong gasoline odor and then spotting a mysterious warning
light on the dash board. I gave her the
AAA number and frantically tried to figure out a way to shorten the meeting so I
could get to her location. All through the
meeting I was worst casing the impact to the bank account right in time for
Christmas.
I came out of the abbreviated meeting fifteen minutes later
to another call from her stating the emergency was over. She was in a two car convoy headed for the
mall with a neighbor lady who my wife was going to introduce to the wonderful world
of Clinique (don’t ask). The other lady
returned after my wife pulled over and said she smelled the same gasoline odor
when driving through the area. She also
identified the mysterious warning light as the indicator the headlights were
on. My wife sheepishly admitted she’d already
called AAA to cancel the tow. So this
was a win-win situation since the “emergency” also significantly shortened my
meeting. By the end of the day the whole
thing was my fault for forcing her to drive a strange car (some things you just
keep paying for).
As a further penance I took her to see Mockingjay Part One
since she missed out on last weekend’s viewing.
The movie didn’t get any better but now I’ve got that damned song “Coming
to the Hanging Tree” stuck in my head, to the consternation of my wife who was
forced to listen while I was in the shower this morning (call it revenge if you
will). The sound of my singing voice is definitely
something you do not want to wake up to – horror movies have been made from
less. It is of course, the First Friday
of the Week and the sun will soon be over the yardarm (somewhere).
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