Wednesday, November 01, 2006
I Wanna Go Back....To The Island
I was messing around with the grandkids last night, being Halloween and all, and watching the Suns get their asses handed to them by the stinkin' Lakers, and I didn't hear my cellphone ring.
Damn!
So this morning, I plop down for work and see a red light flashing. No, it wasn't the cops, finally catching up with me over that whole regrettable "frog in the patrol car" incident from 1983. It was my cellphone, telling me I had a voice mail.
What's that? I didn't tell you the "frog in the patrol car" incident? What about the "ferret in the glove box," circa 1981? No? OK, if someone can assure me that the statute of limitations for criminal damage to public property has passed, then I'll tell those stories. For now, back to the voice mail:
Dog! We're here at Margaritaville listening to the Boat Drunks! Wish you were here!
The caller ID said it was Cheesehead, but I recognized that particular slurring as attributable only to my good friend, The Cheap Bastard.
I called Cheesehead this morning about 8:30AM, fully expecting the hoarse and barely audible "hulllo?." To my chagrin, she answered the phone her usual chipper self, "What's up, Dog?" Hell, it's 10:30AM out there. They're almost ready for lunch. Probably a grouper sandwich at Schooner Wharf. Right now, she's bag stuffing for MOTM and Cheap Bastard and Annette are making the final condo arrangements. And, I'm sure, picking up a couple of scooters so they can play "Hell's Parrotheads" again this year.
Of course, I told her I expect the obligatory "stand in front of the webcam at Sloppy Joe's and call The Crime Dog" treatment. She told me I'd better sleep with my phone. We'll see about that.
I told myself last year I wasn't going to Meeting of the Minds this year. We can only do one big vacation thing per year, so we decided to go with the Parrothead Cruise. Of course, that's actually not until March 2007, so now here we sit while Key West goes nuts without us.
Bad call. Is it too late to hop a plane?
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Damn!
So this morning, I plop down for work and see a red light flashing. No, it wasn't the cops, finally catching up with me over that whole regrettable "frog in the patrol car" incident from 1983. It was my cellphone, telling me I had a voice mail.
What's that? I didn't tell you the "frog in the patrol car" incident? What about the "ferret in the glove box," circa 1981? No? OK, if someone can assure me that the statute of limitations for criminal damage to public property has passed, then I'll tell those stories. For now, back to the voice mail:
Dog! We're here at Margaritaville listening to the Boat Drunks! Wish you were here!
The caller ID said it was Cheesehead, but I recognized that particular slurring as attributable only to my good friend, The Cheap Bastard.
I called Cheesehead this morning about 8:30AM, fully expecting the hoarse and barely audible "hulllo?." To my chagrin, she answered the phone her usual chipper self, "What's up, Dog?" Hell, it's 10:30AM out there. They're almost ready for lunch. Probably a grouper sandwich at Schooner Wharf. Right now, she's bag stuffing for MOTM and Cheap Bastard and Annette are making the final condo arrangements. And, I'm sure, picking up a couple of scooters so they can play "Hell's Parrotheads" again this year.
Of course, I told her I expect the obligatory "stand in front of the webcam at Sloppy Joe's and call The Crime Dog" treatment. She told me I'd better sleep with my phone. We'll see about that.
I told myself last year I wasn't going to Meeting of the Minds this year. We can only do one big vacation thing per year, so we decided to go with the Parrothead Cruise. Of course, that's actually not until March 2007, so now here we sit while Key West goes nuts without us.
Bad call. Is it too late to hop a plane?
