So after waxing lyrical about the security at DIA, I, of course, was pulled for a random check when I was at the United gate. This one was done by the Wackenhut folks, and while I didn’t feel that same level of professionalism (I think part of it has to do with all of their jackets being too large or too small), I do give them credit for going through some very tightly packed luggage and still being able to close them again.
The flight to LA (Orange County, actually) was uneventful, and the drive up to my folks’ house (courtesy of my in-laws picking me up and loaning me a car) was just what you’d expect on LA freeways at 4:30p on a Friday — gridlock, interspersed by mad dashes forward, with everyone jockying between lanes looking for a way to get just one car length further, dammit whilst motorcycles rode the stripes — or the margins — at speed.
{Shudders} I’ve been away from this town for too long. Which is probably a Good Thing.
Had a marvelous time chit-chatting with my folks both before and after the rehearsal dinner. It occurs to me that I just don’t get to do enough of that when we visit out here (vs. when they visit out at our house). When we stay in LA, it’s usually with Margie’s folks. That makes sense, given that they have a larger house, an extra car, and much of our social calendar usually hinges that direction. But it does mean that our visits with my folks are usually briefer (though frequent). I’m not sure there’s a huge reason to change that, to be sure, for just the reasons stated above, but I do have to say it’s been nice spending some more concentrated time with them.
It’s still weird “living” in the house where I lived in high school. Nearly everything is different (rooms rearranged, repainted, new furniture, new repurposing of areas, redone landscaping), while much is the same (lots of the same furniture, plants, nicknacks and art, and, of course, the occupants). Sort of like visiting a strange, parallel universe.
Some things are the same, though. My mom keeps the house utterly spotless (no matter what she tells you), and my dad does the same thing for the exterior.
The biggest difference I’ve noted so far — the size of the glassware. Glasses that used to be HUGE when I was a kinder are now quite petite.
The rehearsal dinner was a rather raucous gathering at a large Mexican restaurant, dinner at the buffet line, etc. The margaritas were fair, but large; the food was fair, but “bottomless.” My brother and sister-in-law were obviously distracted a bit with all the other family and friends around, but it was good to see them; John’s gotten quite a tan and looks to have dropped some pounds. My nephews are growing up at an alarming pace, and Sean (the younger one) reminds me a lot of a young Macauley Culkin, pre-Home Alone.
We got back and I crashed, reading for a little bit until neither my eyes nor brain could focus, then sleeping for about 12 hours. Which felt remarkably good, to be honest, and if I can only do that three or four more times, I should be fully rested. It’s occuring to me that this is a problem I have — not getting enough sleep. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to resolve it, since I have to work, I simply cannot sacrifice any of my non-work hours, and I don’t want to sacrifice any of my weekend hours, and we have a two-year-old daughter that we have to trade off overseeing on weekend mornings. Unless I start taking naps, I suspect I’m going to be running a long-term sleep deficit for a few years to come.
Today is a slack day — nothing explicitly planned (hence the sleeping in). My folks have a “David-Do” list, which includes helping pull out the washing machine from the wall (so that my mom can clean some hoses there), and working with my dad on how to download pictures from his digital camera to his PC (real answer? Get a new PC with all that crap already programmed in and with a CD burner built in), but since my mom is ironing my shirt and slacks for tomorrow, and cooked me a hearty waffle breakfast, I guess I don’t have much to complain about.
The main activity this morning was lending some telephony assistance. First, knowing that they have call waiting (which service for some reason we’ve never gotten at home — not sure why), I was going to program my dial-out from here to temporarily override theirs. That’s when I discovered that they didn’t know how, and that was probably why, on occasion while they are online (since they have but one dial-up line), they get kicked off of Earthlink and the phone rings. Well, yeah, that makes sense …
Then I got to research into what the turn-off code is for call waiting. Which is when I discovered that Verizon (their POS telco) charges separately for that particular (lack of) service. (And, yes, everyone else probably does as well, the jerks.) So I found out the price for it, and chatted with the folks, and they decided to go for it.
They called up Verizon, and then the lady tried to talk them into a package (for almost the same price) that would give them Caller ID. I’ve been trying to convince them of that for years (since we got it), so they went ahead and ordered it.
Of course, the yahoos can’t actually turn it on until Monday, but …
That segued into the second telephony task, installing a Full Bells-n-Whistles phone/answering machine out in the kitchen, replacing their older one. That was followed by a detailed review of the instruction booklet about all the keen things their phone will do (much the same as our present phone, except that the remote handset can also function as a speaker phone). Much geeky fun, and my folks, raised in an “Ma Bell Owns It All” era, have adopted quite nicely.
(One of the side conversations was the Private Call Block function, which forces folks who are blocking their Caller ID to unblock it via *82 before they call. We’ve had it turned on our phone for a while, but it might be worthwhile turning it back off again to see if we’re inundated by calls from basement telemarketers. On the other hand, our friends have all coped with our eccentricity, and I like knowing who’s on the phone before I pick it up.)
Margie and Katherine are well, though speaking of sleep deficits, the game and revelries last night didn’t shut down until after three or so, which meant she’s running on fumes (though Katherine did sleep in a little bit). Love you, hon — I’ll be home soon.
Lou and I had some discussion when we moved in together about the services we’d get on the phone. He was insistent on Call Waiting, and I was insistent on Caller ID. So we got both. Eventually, with the advent of cell phones into the household, and cable modems instead of dial-up, Call Waiting was no longer important. Caller ID is. (We also have Anonymous Caller blocking, and would not give that up, even though it means my mother has to remember to dial *82 before calling us.)
Now I’m just trying to consider if landline-based phones are necessary, since we each have our own cell phone. Maybe in another year or so we’ll toss it. But not yet, not yet.
Cell phone reception at our house is irritatingly poor, so land lines seem to be a better choice.