My parents are off on vacation again. This is my father's first vacation in two months, and my mother's first since January. Similarly I'd qualify this as my first vacation in two months. The cats haven't been happy all week, what with my mother dragging out every suitcase you can imagine and piling them up in the sun room, and on top of that going out to buy another suitcase because the other ones were a little too small or a little too large. The cats have come to understand what this means, and I imagine it's part of why they always treated me with uncertainty, because I always came with suitcases that were never fully unpacked or fully repacked.
They're off to the Grand Canyon. My father suggested, on a nearly daily basis for a couple weeks there, that I go with them, and I did my best to be polite about saying I'd think about it, but what with my unemployment situation and all that it's hard to say whether I should spend the money for a recreational tour like that, you know. My mother noted that the ever-present companion of my parents is what I mostly need a vacation from. Also, the tour they're going with is for elder or retired folks, a group which certainly includes my father and which reluctantly includes my mother. My father suggested I could just sort of happen to go to the same places they did and not as part of the tour package. I'm not sure just what they will see, except it will apparently bring them near that glass overhang high above the floor of the Grand Canyon, and that under no circumstances will my mother set foot on it, even if that should be the only way to escape an escalator.
Originally they were going to leave from a central New Jersey airport that they never heard of either, but which is surprisingly near, but there was some fuss a couple days ago and they had to relocate to Newark and a flight leaving at 6 am. This in turn forced them to get up around 3:30 to drive up, and to bring me with them so that I could drive the car back since they wouldn't leave the car in Newark all week and besides they're flying back to the tiny airport. My mother was worried about my driving, since 3:30 is not an unheard-of time for me to go to sleep and she couldn't have me driving while asleep. I was in good shape and got home, called my mother on her cell phone so she could know I was safe, and fed the cats. They looked at the food, and then looked at me accusingly, as if my mother being gone were my fault.
Trivia: In the late 1920s Camden, New Jersey, built a dog-racing track on airport grounds. Source: Naked Airport, Alastair Gordon.
Currently Reading: 13 Above The Night, Edited by Groff Conklin. ``Great science fiction stories,'' plus, somehow, Asimov's ``Button, Button'', about what happens when idiots try using a device that makes copies of things from the past.