I guess this blog is about change, but first, a message from our sponsor.
Ahm, Victor, you ain't gotta sponsor.
Oh yeah... thanks!
The LAST about Mehico trip. I love me some Tip, my pledge son, but he's an even bigger dodo than I sometimes.
All this time... (worry, starting prolly last summer..about me not having a Passport.) Mr Tipton, ie, Tim, would fire back at 'dodo' by relating "Oh yeah Vic? YOU are the biggest procrastinator EVER!".. I'll get to that.....later.
So, I never got a Passport. Making it to Mehican border 12/31/23, Passport was an even bigger worry than my 14 packs of cigs in two suitcases (you're allowed 10 total packs.) Even bigger than if we were to see masked cartel members standing in the backa their F-two-fitty, bearing AK47's.
We drove right across. They never looked, said "Alto" nor counted my cheap US cigs.
Trip back. "Will they let me into the US with just my drivers license and birth certificate?" My sister always teased that with my red hair I looked like Alfred E. (What? Me worry?) Newman, and YES, I was very worried.
Ten miles to border, "Vic, will you get in my billfold and grab my Passport card?" Did. Handed it to him.
2 miles to border, "Vic, did you see where I put that card?" No. Frantic search.
At border. Gave the dude my birth certificate, driver's license (he was MUCH less friendly than my Mehican or US folks I'd just left.) Tip tried to explain dropping his Passport card to grumpy guard. Cars now behind us. "Vic, get that manilla folder and get my regular Passport outta there." OK. Tip, it ain't in there.
So, 'What, me worry' me, the guy with no passport..was trying to help Tip, the lawyer, with front seat, back seat search for either his passport card or passport. Grumpy guard changed to grumpier guard. "Roll you back window down." Pretty sure Tip hit front window button. "BACK WINDOW", did, as he looked in, he tapped door panel to hear hollow sound, so, nope, we gringos ain't trying to take 1,000 lbs of coke across.
Don't tell Tip, he never reads this.. his nervousness made me mebbe less worried about me. Guard approaching mega grumpy by now, "JUST GIMME YOUR DRIVERS LICENSE" (to Tip). Did. "Have a nice day."
Whew.
Change. At The Why Not store (ten miles into US) because I'm a tight ass and didn't wanna tip Uber dude $20 once I landed in KC. .... and 'pending on how long a walk it looked like in Phoenix, change for wheelchair dude.
Got to Phoenix. I think I remembered to tell Tip goodbye, but mostly, "Give my love to Millie" my, er, his hound.
Long walk, tired, heck to the yeah, wheelchair.
Got to the TSA's.. (First, apologized to wheelchair pusher guy because of my weight.. I tweren't bad when I got to Mehico. ate like crazy there.. up at least 20 pounds).. he laughed. TSA dude say "You 75 or over?" No. "Take off your shoes." Did. Put all my suitcase, all the junk in my pockets on conveyor belt. Went thru exray thingy... "I've got a stent (or is it stint, I dunno) right here" and pointed to where it was.
Musta set off all kindsa bells/whistles... It kinda reminded me of Alice's Restaurant when he said "Where you walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and selected." "I gotta pat you down... we can go over there" (pointed to big shield) Nah, I'm good here. Dude frisked me everywhere, I MEAN everywhere. Also. Don't tell Tip, I was more confused than he. I thought I put all my liquid goodies (hair gel, cologne, toothpaste, mouthwash, etc) in my checked bag. Didn't. Crap. Bye bye liquid stuff.. So....... after all that, made it to gate. Went for a beer. Needed one.
Tecate Lite and Dos Equis both $2.50 or $3 in Mehico. Handed Phoenix airport barkeep a $20 for my Bud Light, gave me $9 back. (Anudder change.)
Got to KC. Don't tell Schwabby (his son helped build new KC airport), nice airport, but, their signage SUCKS. Finally found where to go for Uber pickup. "Boon" was to be my driver. Change. Different name.
Nice dude. Moved here from Malaysia 30 years ago. He'd taken two classes of English. Admire the dude. Good visit. Back to Liberty, MO.\\\
Weather. Change. Gimme Sandy Beach, Dos Equis, five chocolate bars please.
No one home. Stopped at Corner Bar. NO change. It ain't changed in fitty years.
Breakfast next morning. Jeans, not shorts (change). Brrrrr... Gal that waited on me is the daughter of a little gal I taught PE in 5th grade in the 80's. Asked how mom was. "Shes finally home!" I didn't know where she'd been. "Oh... " and she proceded to tell me 'diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer... severe hip pain, possibly needed new hip." CRAP. Change. We live. Life changes. Sometmes good, sometimes it sucks. Prayers.
WallyWorld for a few groceries. I was early, the old fart electric shopping carts were aplenty. Greeter was a VERY disabled (physically, verbally), extremely nice. What a different life (change), bless him and bless WalMart for hiring.
Sorry no blog yesterday. En route to Puerto Penasco, I left part of my laptop cord in Tip's buddy's house in Tucson, near the mountains, thus, Bloggy Mountain Breakdown. I'd borrowed one while I was tehre. Now, I'm at the library. It's changed. Don't see no wooden file drawers with the 3 by 5 Dewey Decimal cards. Also, they musta forgot I still owe 'em $2.23 from 1968, which, I think, was the last time I was in the Library.
Passports, laptop cords, returning books on time... who needs all that crap.
No. I haven't changed. Don't tell Tip. Neither has he Just before drive to Phoenix, he took my key to room to front desk to cleaning lady he'd hired could get in. So, we go back to condo. Can't find his key. So, I hee haw'ed while he beat feet back to front desk (hella long walk) to get key back.
PS: I changed undies this morning.
PSS. I aint got no toothpaste or mouthwash. I'll change that, tomorrow maybe. Scroll to procrastination.
Love, Victurd
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