Walking into the jetway in Chicago, on my return trip from Cabo San Lucas, the air is frigid.
Now let me explain frigidly. Frigid is when you wade into a lake or a pool on a warm day and the water is, by contrast, cold. You can tolerate it until you get into the deeps above your genitals and then suddenly you feel like your testicles are trying to come up into your throat. I don't know what happens to women in this same scenario, but men will understand.
So there I am walking up the jetway with my...Okay, I've already explained that. Anyway, before my underarms freeze and render me unable to move them to find my ticket for my connecting flight to Appleton, I arrive in the relative warmth of the terminal at O'Hare.
It was 83 degrees in Mexico. It is 6 degrees in Chicago and I'm going to Appleton where it is going to be colder and that is without factoring in the wind chill. For the record, the wind was blowing from the west at 10 mph.
Since I'm looking forward to spending the rest of the Holiday Season with friends and family and because return tickets to Mexico would be far too expensive, I soldier on, with Jack Frost nipping at my nose.
I enjoyed Mexico. A chance to suffer from the pain of mosquitos strafing me while I tried to enjoy a hot tub dip. The need to take an early morning swim in the pool five feet from my bedroom door in order to make my hosts realize that I am aware of the privilege of my situation. And then, there is the sun protection cream, the sumptuous food and the sounds of my son's jazz music collection from the portable wireless speaker. You know. The usual pain and suffering of tropic vacations. Ah, the things we do for love.
My son, Sean making sure he dosen't get to tan.
And I do this in order to spend some time with my son, his wife and my two grandsons. Courtesy of my son, we are enjoying a stay at an all-inclusive resort in Cabo San Lucas. At the Montechristo, you can't use cash. Everything is charged to the number of the Casita you are using. You have transportation to every point in the compound either by van or Cushman golf cars with special multi-passenger seating. Did I mention the pool is five feet from my room? My room, with its own cable TV setup, en-suite bathroom, and a king-sized bed. All this and I don't get one of those itemized charge slips slipped under the door while I sleep.
On the upside, I did get a bit of a tan without getting burned. I finished one book going down. (Cast Iron, Peter May) and another book on the trip home (The Fifth Vial, Michael Palmer). I had read parts of both of these books prior to boarding the planes, but it does get you in the mood to relax when the long plane trip provides a great excuse to binge read.
So I am tan, rested and ready for everything except this damn cold weather.
Oh, one other sad note. We did watch the Green Bay Packers and the Minnesota Vikings Game.
My friend Dan Ensley asked me, at the most recent dinner meeting of the Royal Order of Toads, did I know the most popular wine in Green Bay, Wisconsin? conjuring my best imitation of Ed McMahon of the Johnny Carson era of late night TV, I said, "No, Dan what is the most popular wine in Green Bay, Wisconsin?"
He said with a pout in his voice, "Aaron Rodgers broke his collarbone. Bo Hoo,"
Now let me explain frigidly. Frigid is when you wade into a lake or a pool on a warm day and the water is, by contrast, cold. You can tolerate it until you get into the deeps above your genitals and then suddenly you feel like your testicles are trying to come up into your throat. I don't know what happens to women in this same scenario, but men will understand.
So there I am walking up the jetway with my...Okay, I've already explained that. Anyway, before my underarms freeze and render me unable to move them to find my ticket for my connecting flight to Appleton, I arrive in the relative warmth of the terminal at O'Hare.
It was 83 degrees in Mexico. It is 6 degrees in Chicago and I'm going to Appleton where it is going to be colder and that is without factoring in the wind chill. For the record, the wind was blowing from the west at 10 mph.
Since I'm looking forward to spending the rest of the Holiday Season with friends and family and because return tickets to Mexico would be far too expensive, I soldier on, with Jack Frost nipping at my nose.
I enjoyed Mexico. A chance to suffer from the pain of mosquitos strafing me while I tried to enjoy a hot tub dip. The need to take an early morning swim in the pool five feet from my bedroom door in order to make my hosts realize that I am aware of the privilege of my situation. And then, there is the sun protection cream, the sumptuous food and the sounds of my son's jazz music collection from the portable wireless speaker. You know. The usual pain and suffering of tropic vacations. Ah, the things we do for love.
My son, Sean making sure he dosen't get to tan.
The long walk to the pool from my bedroom
On the upside, I did get a bit of a tan without getting burned. I finished one book going down. (Cast Iron, Peter May) and another book on the trip home (The Fifth Vial, Michael Palmer). I had read parts of both of these books prior to boarding the planes, but it does get you in the mood to relax when the long plane trip provides a great excuse to binge read.
So I am tan, rested and ready for everything except this damn cold weather.
Oh, one other sad note. We did watch the Green Bay Packers and the Minnesota Vikings Game.
My friend Dan Ensley asked me, at the most recent dinner meeting of the Royal Order of Toads, did I know the most popular wine in Green Bay, Wisconsin? conjuring my best imitation of Ed McMahon of the Johnny Carson era of late night TV, I said, "No, Dan what is the most popular wine in Green Bay, Wisconsin?"
He said with a pout in his voice, "Aaron Rodgers broke his collarbone. Bo Hoo,"
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