Bumper Cars

Members of my family have a terrible history of……. [you are DYING to see how this sentence ends, aren’t you?]

Members of my family have a terrible history of running into one another’s vehicles in the driveway of our homes.  It really is the McC’s signature vehicular move – driveway demolition derby.  In high school I was able to land the triple-lutz of driveway fender benders when I reversed my Toyota Tercel down the driveway in just such a way as to COMPLETELY sideswipe my sister’s Chevy Chevette [removing every inch of the snazzy wood paneling] before coming to rest alongside my dad’s Datsun 210 [that classy fleet of vehicles was the envy of my senior class, I just know it].  I imagine it was an interesting call to the insurance agent. 

My sister Nic finally joined the club on Saturday when she forgot that I (and my rental car) had come for a visit.  Considering my rental car is the size of a child’s toy, I am surprised she was able to find it in the driveway – but the bumper of her brand new, yet clearly unlucky, Volkswagon Passat must have a homing device. 

The execution of this easier-than-you-might-think maneuver generally includes several key factors:  Unfamiliar car in the exit path of your driveway; unacceptable tardiness to some event; a really good song on the radio that deserves to be turned up; and surprisingly, not once in half-a-dozen repeats, even a drop of alcohol.  

My dad’s method for preventing this oh-so-avoidable travesty was to park the visiting vehicle immediately behind the homeowner’s car.  Like…lock-your-bumper close.  So when the driver got in their car to back up, the proximity of items in your rearview mirror [that may impossibly be closer than they appear] surprised the shit out of you before you could even get your foot on the gas pedal. 

Well – gotta run so I can buff some scratches out before returning my rental car.

Barback

Ever since Blondie opened the wine bar, whenever people ask me what I do for a living I like to say “barback”. Not only does this answer get a much better response than “accountant” [in that people don’t turn around and start talking to other people], but it allows me to include shameless wine bar promotion from the very start of the conversation.

Of course...the suggestion of my employment at the shop elicits nervous laughter [and a barely discernible tic] from the proprietor.  I think her worst hospitality nightmare involves me saying ANYTHING other than “hello and welcome” [Such as this purely hypothetical customer/McC exchange….

“You say cabernet franc, I say cabernet frank....but hey...~tomato~, ~tamahto~, eh?.....Speaking of maters – you should try the tomato….I mean margarita….pizza….I mean flatbread.” 

Seriously, if Blondie had to choose between the sink backing up or me working the floor, I think she would choose the sink backing up.  [Perhaps because I mention things like the sink backing up for absolutely no good reason.]

How desperate would things have to get before I am pressed into service?  Well, quite frankly, I.  Don’t.  Know.   – as that level of desperation has yet to be seen.  Which is saying a lot – given a few of those early days.  Honestly, her contingency staffing plans go something like this:

• The neighbor who got fired from TGI Fridays
• Self-serve wine night
• me

I’ve actually gotten the call twice.  And both times, Blondie ultimately decided not only did she not need me to work the floor, but upon further consideration, she didn’t need me to handle the cash and the glasses were clean enough.  That’s right....Blondie said wineglasses were clean enough. 

 So I guess the truth is, I aspire to be a barback

Packing Ligh

There it is – our packing for our vacation to Cabo….no, don’t let those bags fool you…Rita and I only went for a week.  That’s right, I can take a 10-day a trip to Philly/Alaska/Nashville with only a single carry-on, but send us to the beach with nary a suit or penny loafer and we can’t get by without half our belongings.  But there are legitimate reasons for all this stuff:

• I am my mother’s daughter
• Coca Light is NOT the same as Diet Coke.  Provisions were packed accordingly.
• Molly’s in that brown box (with the wine)
• Well….that’s what my sunscreen inventory looks like when I go to the beach.  (I think we have 8 varietals of sunscreen.  There’s an arms race by sunscreen manufacturers to see how many spf you can cram into a tube and Rita and I are feeding that arms race.)
• Okay, okay – I fess up – I’m took my recently extended taxes with me to complete.  (I find I get a bigger refund when tequila is involved in my tax prep.)
• Speaking of tequila…
• I think I’m going to need all 7 pairs of flip flops
• Why we think we can’t get crackers in Mexico – I do not know.  But they do go nicely with the cheese course snuggled in one of those cases (hopefully not next to the flip fops). 

Laugh if you must – but when that box of wine comes spinning off the baggage carousel – we meet all kinds of new friends.  They would be so disappointed to know half of it is Diet Coke! 

Inclusive Inclusion

First off, I apologize if this post is in Spanish.  No - not my Rosetta Stone course paying off....Instead, Rita and I are in Cabo San Lucas for a week, testing the timeshare market and our sunscreen spf.  The place where we’re staying is offering all-inclusive food and drink for $79 a day. $79 a day!  Rita was worried that this was “an invitation to over-eat and drink”.  To which I replied, “Oh honey – this is vacation, that invitation has already been extended….and accepted.”  But I was worried about how we can make sure to get our $79 worth?  Here are possible ideas:

• Is there a starbuckies on site?
• Have you ever MET Rita P.???  I think we can cover the $79 on the charcuterie course.  [There is likely to be a Rita exclusion on future trips, so we better enjoy this go-round.]
• No….REALLY?  Alcohol is included?  Game Over [Looks like there could be a future Maeve exclusion too.]
• Everyone is getting Mexican bottled water for xmas.
• What’s your policy on sunscreen?
• I don’t even LIKE lox – but I’m getting a whole plate of it with the rest of my 7 course breakfast. 
• Put one of those pharmacias on site – all you can buy z-pacs.  (It IS Mexico, after all.)
• A la carte?  A la included.  =) 
• Wait a second….this isn’t like cruise ship food is it?! 

 Well – gotta run for my 2^nd all-inclusive latte of the afternoon, so more tomorrow (if the internet holds – and  that is not included.)

From the Front Lines

Well, the home inspection yesterday at mom's house was pretty interesting….I don’t want to say we had Chicken Little do the inspection, but I tell you what….this home inspector made the current crop of Republican presidential candidates look like Norman Vincent Peale in comparison.   

And as he walked around the house throwing these little words of wisdom out….mom just got paler and paler. [This was not really the objective of the house inspection.]

“The dryer vent doesn’t vent outside….just goes to the basement.  The vapors from that…they’ll go straight to your attic - it’s the coldest place in the house, y’know.  Next thing you know – you got mold and mildew all over the place.”  [It looks like a long day, mom, maybe you ought to pass those tranquilizers around.]

“These coils you’re trying to throw away…these go to your electric garage door opener, they’re the backup lines in case the primaries break.  These things keep the door from killing you if the primary snaps.”  [Alrighty then….I guess we won’t throw these life-saving wires away, now will we?  Come to find out, though, these were actually the coils from the LAST garage door that dad thought he better keep, just in case.]

“The electricity? – not grounded to anything.  A bolt of lightning comes – knocks your whole house out.”  [ummmm, okay….the odds of lightning-bolt damage between now and sale date is probably not my chief concern….but now mom can’t sleep for worrying about her lightning-bolt fate.  Great.  What are we going to cover next – unicorn damage??]

“Look at these steps to the basement, you rock real hard side to side like this – look at those steps move!” [Well quit doing that jackass!]

"This tube from your water conditioner….overlaps the sewer routing.  That’s right.  That sewer backs up and goes the wrong way?….well, game over then.”  [small vomiting sounds]

And the hole in the ceiling in the spare bedroom that pretty much screams “raccoon damage”?  Not a word.

After Mr. Sunshine came to visit, I’m less worried about selling the house and more worried about just surviving our visit.

Starbuckies!

You probably can't read it - but this is the beer/wine menu (!) at Starbucks here in Portland.  Is Starbuckies going to roll out beer and wine service to the rest of the country???   Because I’d just like to select the geography of my next consulting gig based on their roll-out schedule.  Seriously….coffee, beer, wine & rice krispie treats all in one location?  ~Heaven~  It’s as if I am a focus group of 1 for SB.  50% of my restaurant budget already goes to SB, but I may as well start signing over the other half of my paycheck right now.  Honestly, I may never need to set foot in another retail establishment again.  If they add bbq chips to the menu, I’ll just move in. 

And speaking of retail – I am MUCH more likely to buy that $13 tin of hot cocoa after a couple Venti Miller Lites.  Actually, we found out the hard way that the Pinot does not come in Venti size after all (not yet anyway…give the SB bean counters another year and we’ll be able to get that whole wine bottle in a SB sippy cup). 

Now you will never QUITE know what’s in that starbuckies coffee cup I’m carrying around, will you?

Leave it to Starbuckies though, now you have to stand in line behind a person ordering a half-dry, extra cold, double tall, skinny vanilla latte AND a person ordering an undecanted, medium toast, low brix older vintage.  Wait – is that Blondie in front of me???

My only concern?  If a cup of coffee costs $3.95 at Starbuckies…how much does something with alcohol in it cost??? 

Peanuts Schmeanuts

There’s something about flying cross country that brings out the hoarding, binging crazy in me.  Subconsciously, ….I think I'm really afraid a wayward hunger pang will hit at the 3 hour mark of a 6-hr flight (with no access to additional provisions) and madness will result.  Which is weird since I routinely go without eating for 6 hours at work (the approximate duration of my staff meetings).  But there’s something about being trapped for hours without food that causes my complete panic….that I might end up like that soccer team stranded and starving in the Andes after their plane crashed (although I'm pretty sure cannibalism didn't set in at the six hour mark).  Or at the very minimum, that I’ll end up in a hunger-inspired peanut-and-pretzel-related TSA event. 

So better to be safe than sorry, I say, by buying stupid amounts of pre-travel provisions.  Besides….the sucky-travel-schlep factor burns MASSIVE calories – RIGHT??   (Or is that why they call it comfort food??)  Honest to god….I buy more at the Paradies shop of the San Diego airport than I EVER have at a grocery store.  On Monday I spent $50 at the airport before my flight left.  $50!!  Here’s what $50 buys you at an airport:

$5.50     Starbucks (first things first, afterall)

$5.50     3 newspapers (maybe ONE of them will cover the Titans)

$9.89     Blimpie sandwich (where’s the $5 footlong when you need it??)
$7.75     Back to the newsstand for two protein bars (but not the good kind that taste like a candy bar so you eat them right away – the real protein bars that you ONLY eat in a real, real emergency.  Like just before you go all stranded-Andes-soccer-player on someone.)

$8.00     Another trip to the newsstand for a pack of Hall’s and the ibuprofen travel pack (I may not have a cold right now, but I am sure I will by the time I land) 

$4.00     before I leave the newsstand this time, I better get a bag of chips to go with my Blimpie (I mean I’m entitled to a side item at lunch, right?)   Make that $6.50 so I can get a Rice Krispie Treat as a….well…a TREAT (because I’m going to spend all day on a freakin’ plane and I deserve a little treat – dammit)

$5.00     I’m sure I dropped at LEAST a fiver along the way (my offering to the airport gods)

$6.05     In change at the bottom of my briefcase

By the end of my little shopping spree, my newsstand shopping bag is the same size as my suitcase, I’ve undertaken a personal airport stimulus and I’ve individually assumed all of Angelina Jolie’s carb-offsets.  In fact, on MORE than 1 occasion – I have purchased a sandwich before departure only to cart it across the country, onward to the waiting taxi and into the fridge at home before Rita throws it away as part of salmonella prevention month.  (Like airport food could ever really go BAD!)

And god forbid I’m RUSHED at the airport.  Tonight I only had 9 minutes to get all my provisions.  What a scene - like that episode of Laverne & Shirley where they have 30 seconds to grab everything they can in a grocery store give-away.  Not.  Pretty.  When I finally got on the plane, my hastily-assembled stash included a Russian language newspaper, a family-sized bag of Ruffles and a gyro that I don’t even remember buying.  (When was the last time I ate a GYRO?  The 1996 Fall Festival??)   

Well, all this typing is making me hungry (or is it the guy sitting next to me who smells like Greek food), so I better go.