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John and Scott
December 13th, 1999

The Land Of The Sun
Back. For those of you in Seattle, it was 60 degrees and the sun was shining when I landed. It was raining when I took off. I just thought you might like to know that.

I believe I mentioned getting on the train to Seattle and discovering my Denny efforts to book a two person compartment over the Internet had resulted in a five person bedroom which the attendant kindly downgraded for me as there was an empty roomette available. Early this afternoon I arrived at the street side Southwest Airlines check in and was told after the attendant spent five minutes fumbling around behind the desk that I needed to go inside and check in at the counter as they had "screwed up my ticket". I harrumphed! as one should and stomped inside. Fortunately the line was short. "They tell me outside this has been screwed up." He looked it over. It said I was to catch the plane from Oakland to Seattle at 1:50PM, not the plane from Seattle to Oakland. Ah.

Downshift. Start over. Did I screw up the booking? Probably. I've bought lots of stuff over the Internet including a couple of tickets from Southwest but this is the first time I've booked staterooms instead of bedrooms and switched the cities. I'm pissed, but I'm calming down rapidly as it has just occurred to me that maybe there won't be a seat available on the next flight. And, come to think of it, when is that next flight? And, come to rethink of it, maybe it's best to have this guy standing behind the counter on my side. Short version: Flight at 2:30, I'm on it, we arrive 10 minutes early, plenty of time to pick up Wuss.

Still, two botched tickets. Am I trying to tell myself something? Why did I look at the ticket and check the time (more than once, more than once), yet not check to see that it was a ticket originating in Seattle not Oakland? And that train thing? How exactly did I screw that up?

This isn't a symptom of advancing age. I watch for those: Knees hurt a bit on the stairs, can't remember names, face looks like a Moonscape. I've done this before on one or two occasions, both of them having to do with travel and in both cases I got careless with the details of a trip that maybe I didn't want to take in the first place. Is this true for my trip to Seattle? I don't think so. I had a good time, we had a great party. Maybe I've come to the point that I shouldn't leave my apartment without a keeper.

Mr. Wuss has retired to the bedroom after performing a heart rending Vickie academy award quality starving cat act on the rug, chair, kitchen floor and desktop before caving in and eating the special diet cat food. If this goes on much longer I'm going to give up and fall back on the no fish Friskies in a can suggested by the vet. He was not happy when they brought him out in his cardboard carrier. Perhaps it was the large 80 pound tap dancing dog ("THEY CAME BACK!! THEY CAME BACK! OH GOD I'M IN HEAVEN THEY DIDN'T LEAVE ME LIKE I THOUGHT THEY DID! I'LL BE GOOD! I'LL BE GOOD! I'LL BE GOOD!") he could see on a leash through the little air holes at the check out counter. His box was wet. He was wet. And hungry. Good ta see ya, Wuss.

The banner photograph of my cousin John and his son Scott will be rescanned and the color corrected one of these days when I learn how to use PhotoShop. The black and white photograph is of my cousin Denny, the second my cousin Vickie. I don't like the tonal balance in Vickie's photograph either. Mumble, mumble.