Southern Comfort

Well, I had a...... well trip - I wouldn't call it interesting or not-so-interesting, it just was.....trip back home to Philadelphia to visit my parents last week.

I got there last Friday, luckily without a hitch. I have had more than my share of bad luck traveling to and from there the past year or so. I got there fine, which is usual, it's getting back to Portland that seems to create the problem, but I'll get to that later. Got there on Friday night, didn't do much of anything. Saturday night I met up with a couple friends of mine, who I met through the Eagles Message Board. Yes, sad as it is, most of my 'friends' are from the internet. Do they have therapy for that sort of thing? Maybe I shouldn't ask that. Anyway, we headed out to Dave & Busters, a bar on the Delaware River, which is bigger than most small cities, and just as crowded and annoying. They actually have a parking garage just for that place. Wasn't too fun, so we headed downtown to a place called Fado - more fun, and more crowded, and the size of a decent-sized broom closet, but my friends said it was one of the first bars in Philadelphia, historic, yadda yadda yadda. We did the Eagles chant (E-A-G-L-E-S, EAGLES!!) in both bars, we laughed, drank, and had a good time.

Got up Sunday morning for my first Eagles game live at Lincoln Financial Field. Holy shit, to say I was excited was an understatement. Jane (of the aforementioned couple) gave me one of her season tickets for the game - awesome seats, 10 yard line, half way up the first level, beneath and to the right of Donovan McNabb's mom's box. Way cool. Way fuckin' cool, in fact! But first, the tailgate. It was actually my first, believe it or not. Meet a lot of great people - people that I 'knew' from the message board but had never actually met in person, drank, ate, sang the Eagles fight song, just had a great time. Here's a pic of everyone, I'm the 'redhead' on the far right:



We bitch-slapped the Packers, it couldn't have gone any better. What a game. God, I love football. Anyway, that was pretty much the highlight of my week. The rest of it I spent with my parents, at my parents house, doing pretty much absolutely nothing.

Both my parents are in their 70's and don't do a whole helluva lot except talk about their various ailments and travel to and from doctors' appointments. Well, my dad did break up the monotony with a haircut appointment - given that he has about 3 hairs on his head, it must be quite the event.

I love my parents dearly, but they are........ well, kinda weird. My dad is old and fraile - he''s had every health problem known to man, and although stable for the moment, has just been through the ringer and it takes about everything out of him just to get through the daily chores of showering/shaving, taking medicine, eating, etc. He takes TWO HOURS in the bathroom to get ready in the morning - TWO HOURS!! Not to mention he blasts country music throughout the house the whole entire time. They are complete creatures of habit. Every time I go there, it's like being 10 all over again. They still go the same grocery store, same barber, same gas station, eat the same foods, watch the same TV shows.......it's just frickin eerie.

So, after a week of that I was more than ready to come home. Although, I secretly feel realy bad saying that b/c I wonder if this is the last time I might see one or both of them. My mom's in pretty good health, but with my dad, every time I see him he looks older and more fraile.

So, I get on the plane - an almost six hour flight nonstop from Philly to Seattle. (The last two times I went home to visit the parents, because of plane delays I had to spend the night in the city where my connecting flight was - first Houston, then Denver. I was hoping against all hope that this time would, for once, be different.) There were about 15 army guys that had just come back from Iraq and were on their way home, so that was kinda cool, everyone was applauding them and thanking them and everything, which was cool, and they seemed to appreciate it. I finally get to Seattle, and head for the nearest bar. After a couple beers I'm ready to take the 45 minute plane trip to Portland. Almost freeeeeeeeeee! So the plane I had to get on had FREAKING PROPELLORS!!! Not to mention it was smaller than most compact cars. I was a bit, how you say, fucking terrified!!!!

So that went fine, I get to the airport, and guess what - my luggage is 'well somewhere' but not in the Portland Airport baggage claim, which was my preference. So, I had to go home without my luggage. Almost made it this time! Oh well, maybe next year.

Of course the airline calls at 7 am the next morning, telling me they would be by with my bags shortly. Couldn't they have waited until like 10? Some of us like to sleep in, for God's sake.

So all is well, and yes, I'm dreading the next trip. Can't I just go to Hawaii or St. Thomas like a normal person???