adventure

Bee's picture

Forty

Thu, 01/06/2011 - 21:00 -- Bee

I wanted to go to a medieval jousting banquet somewhere near Anaheim but the children objected on aesthetic grounds, and Byron claimed to be "allergic."

See? My birthday is always so difficult!

Given the constraints of the guests, my nostalgia for childhood misadventures in California, the fact that I already miss England, and Byron's academic affiliation, the destination was obvious. We collected up my mother and the children from their Disney sojourn and ventured forth to spend the day on the Queen Mary.

Bee's picture

Cult

Tue, 01/04/2011 - 21:00 -- Bee

Traveling back down Gene Autry Way, everything here is familiar and known. Comfortable. Understood. References to public scandals I've never heard about about feel correctly calibrated. I no longer recognise the people in the newspaper, but I get the cadence.

The real puzzle is not the fact that I live in a different country: it is the fact that I am no longer poor. I'm living out the classic story of the country boy seeking his fortune in the big city, but how many of those novels have happy endings?

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Mournful

Sat, 01/01/2011 - 21:00 -- Bee

I'm driving around endless ugly sprawling suburbs listening to AC/DC and feeling mournful. It is just like being young again, except for the music.

The most shocking visible difference? Despite excessive fuel costs, people appear to be driving ever larger vehicles. I'm a child of the seventies, I remember fuel rationing - and everyone switched to smaller cars, even my grandparents. And they owned a petrol station!

I guess folks nowadays need the new bigger cars to drive to their new bigger houses in new bigger suburbs?

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Decade

Fri, 12/31/2010 - 21:00 -- Bee

Ten years ago I had never really ventured past the Rockies, never been to Europe, never traveled alone. I didn't have much money but scraped together enough for a birthday trip to NYC, booking a ticket that connected in half a dozen cities before depositing me in the middle of the night in a shuttered and frozen Long Island airport.

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Chasm

Fri, 10/15/2010 - 21:00 -- Bee

There is at times an enormous gaping chasm between my perception of a situation and what an objective observer might report. One example: I cling with bloody shredded fingers to the notion that I am working class, despite all evidence (education, income, career, tendency to scamper off to the Riviera on a whim) to the contrary.

Usually this distortion makes no difference in real terms except that I am inclined to say critical and highly offensive things at dinner parties. Or, you know, live on the radio. Whatever.

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