Leave the Despising To Us

R.a.n.t. for week of 01/19/14

I've decided to take another week off so Professor Sanee can continue her travel horror story. Reflecting on this story, I recall my own travel horror story. It happened in Mexico. Perhaps I'll relate that next week if anyone would like to hear it. But I digress, Professor Sanee you have the conn.

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[WARNING] Those of you who have not read last weeks r.a.n.t. should, as this is a continuation. You can find it HERE.

Chapter seven of my book is titled, 'Frustration, Crying, Laughter'. In this chapter I try to help people stay positive despite the many perils they may be facing. The emotions one feels typically starts in frustration, then moves to crying and finally, later, laughter. Realistically, rage is one of the feelings too but the book tries to remain positive and I gloss over those feelings. Maybe I shouldn't have done so, because suddenly rage was all I was feeling. If you recall from last week, I left off relating how the Greyhound bus departed from New York City when I began to fall asleep. Let's pick up where I left off.

When I woke up, the bus was stopped in Newark, NJ. It seems after I fell asleep, the bus stopped to pick up a few people and let more get on. That was when they discovered the bus was unable to continue it's journey. For whatever reason, the door was jammed. It was not closing and "safety regulations required the door to be closed at all times while in operation", as I was told. This resulted in another forced layover. The time was now six-thirty. In the span of 3 hours, I had travelled exactly 30 miles! I began to wonder if taking the bus was the wisest choice.

'Joyce II' was not much friendlier than her predecessor. Reissuing new tickets for a bus load of wayward and cranky passengers most likely didn't help her demeanour. "Final destination", she yelled at me. Mr. Smiley was behind me listening in. "Cleveland", I said quietly. "WHAT?" she yelled at me. "Cleveland" I said leaning in. I gave her my previous ticket, hoping that would clear everything up. "You're gonna have to speak up!" she growled back. I again showed her the ticket which she snatched out of my hand and placed it on a pile of papers, she repeated the question. "Final destination!" I tried to explain she could take the information off the ticket I just handed her, but she replied with this nugget of gold, "Who do you think you're talking to! I happen to work here, and I know how to do my job. Final destination!" Reluctantly I told her it was Cleveland, loud enough for her, Mr. Smiley, or anyone else that wanted to know my information. Then the fun started because now she wanted my credit card and I.D. to confirm the previous ticket POS. I had an enjoyable 20 minute discussion with her about my credit card being missing and how easy it would be for her to confirm everything using my passport as reference. People started grumbling behind me, and I'm assuming that can be the only reason she finally gave in and printed out my replacement ticket for the bus which was now leaving at 10:00pm.

I spent the next few hours, crabby, tired, hungry and miserable. How I longed for the warmth and comfort of a cozy bed. I wanted to take my shoes off, but dared not. A few of the bus terminal transients were playing a game called 'name the stain on the floor'. I wanted to take my bra off, but dared not. I knew if I had it would only be a matter of time before I used said bra to strangle someone. Could I ever be that upset? Would I want to risk spending the night in jail? I wonder if prisons in America have nice cozy beds. Probably not. A few hours of waiting and my stomach was growling. I hadn't eaten since the morning. Mr. Smiley came over and offered me a sandwich he bought from the vending machine. He obviously had heard I was out of currency. Reluctantly I snatched the proffered sandwich and choked it down as he proceeded to sit down next to me. Five minutes later he was snoring loudly and slowly leaning closer and closer to my shoulder. That was the time I decided to NOT use the restroom. A second upon entering the toilet, I knew it was a mistake. It smelled worse than Mr. Smiley, there was no tissue, and a spider had decided the back of the tank was a great place to make it's home. No thank you!

Around 10:00 we were allowed onto the bus which I hoped was non-stop to Cleveland. Yes, I know the ticket said it was supposed to be, but I had a hard time taking anything for face value during this trip. As we were lining up, I noticed Mr. Smiley was still snoring loudly. Relief overtook me as I realized he would not be on this bus, his own idiocy would have cost him that. Standing in line, I was ecstatic knowing I would be close to the front. The seedier, degenerate people always tend to sit in the back. I was not one of those people, I was a fine upstanding individual. And yet, suddenly I felt very ashamed. Getting out of line, I walked back to Mr. Smiley and nudged him. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes as I told him the bus was boarding. I quickly took my place in queue while others were still collecting themselves. I sill managed to get a seat close to the front, Mr. Smiley went directly in back. No doubt to sleep more or drink more, I cared not which. One of the last to get on the bus was this rather obnoxious and portly women who refused to sit in the back of the bus, despite those being the only seats available. This was a crowded bus and no other seats in the front were available. Even the carry-ons and laptops had been stowed. I had a young Asian girl sitting next to me, I think she said her name was Kira. She looked scared, terrified and I wasn't even sure if she spoke English. The large women certainly scared the little girl as she continued bellowing out choice colourful metaphors. Eventually, someone relented and went to sit in the back with Mr. Smiley. I wish this rotund women had read chapter four of my book, 'Swearing and Cussing May Get You to the Front of the Plane, But it Won't Make You Any Friends'.

A few hours later, we arrived in Milesburg PA to refuel. I had learned from Kira she was having a traumatic experience of her own. She did speak English but had only been in the country a few years and this was her first trip travelling via bus. Like me, probably her last as well. As the bus took off again, we continued our conversation. Suddenly from the back of the bus, I heard what almost sounded like someone trying to stifle a cough. A few seconds later I was certain it wasn't a cough they were trying to hold in, but their 'lunch'. I'll give you just one guess who suddenly lost all control and vomited explosively. Gasps and shrieks awoke anyone who dared miss the adventure, the bus driver pretended not to notice. Kira turned to look and I suggested she not do so, explaining the man was probably sick. I knew better though. Kind of wish I had this guys address so I could send him my book and make him read chapter nine, "Laughter is the Best Medicine, But Your Doctor Won't Prescribe It For You'.

With the dawning of the sun, my horror story was drawing to a close. We were supposed to have arrived in Cleveland around 4AM, but we had a "quick" stop (45 minutes really) to a way-station so the back of the bus could be cleaned as best as possible. Any liquor Mr. Smiley had was confiscated. I'd like to think Kira still thought he was just 'sick', but I'm sure she knew better. Finally, my trip was over, but I felt bad for Kira. She was continuing her journey, as was Mr. Smiley. She showed me her ticket, her next transfers were Chicago, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Worthington, then finally South Dakota. The poor sweet child, she'd be travelling for almost another 24 hours. I felt bad for her and gave her my direct phone number. I Told her to call me if she needed anything. As I departed, I again noticed Mr. Smiley snoring away. No, I didn't nudge him this time. I had a hot shower and a change of clothes calling me.

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Professor Sanee resides in Italy
and teaches the course 'the
Ethics of Humour' at I.M.A.
She's also author of the book,
"Why Isn't Anyone Laughing?"

No-Go Greyhound

R.a.n.t. of week 01/12/14

Nothing to rant about this week. Well, nothing I haven't already ranted about 'ad nauseam'. So I've decided to take a break for a few weeks. But don't worry, I've got something very interesting to read to fill the time. My good 'friend' Professor Sanee was kind enough to fill in with a tale of the greyhound. A true horror story if you ever heard one.

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Thank you for the space Jeffery. As you know, I'm in America doing a book tour for my recently published, "Why Isn't Anyone Laughing". After this tale, you'll certainly see why I'm not the one whom is laughing. It started last week when New York was hit with that terrible snow storm. I was supposed to be in Cleveland the next day for a book signing, but unfortunately the airport had cancelled my flight and looked like all flights were cancelled until further notice. As the snow was supposed to fall well into the next day, I quickly realized I had to either cancel my book signing or seek other arrangements. As I'm only in America for a couple of weeks, I opted to look for other arrangements. Car rentals were uncooperative, though I find it hard to fault them considering the weather. I was informed the only company likely to be operating at the time was the Greyhound bus lines. Reluctantly, I consulted their website.

Ten minutes later, I was in a taxi heading to the Greyhound Bus Depot, inconveniently located about twenty minutes away. We had gone a few blocks when the driver decided it was a good idea to stop for petrol. You'd think these things would be topped off between fares. When he had finished, he started driving then turned into a 7-11. I don't mean he physically turned into a 7-11, the taxi pulled into a 7-11. Apparently the cabbie thought we were taking a leisurely jaunt and was heading in to acquire provisions. The women inside me wanted to scream at him to get back in the taxi, my bus was scheduled to leave at 2:30, so I had little time for side trips. But I kept my cool and remembered the first chapter of my book, 'Pleasantries Will Get You Somewhere'. Essentially, people respond more favourably to a kinder word, than ranting and raving. Despite my anger, I jokingly replied, "Have any dry cleaning you need to pick up on the way"?

In retrospect, perhaps it sounded more sarcastic than anything else, because the rest of the trip seemed to take forever. Was he taking the longest route possible? Thirty-five minutes later I was in the bus depot when I discovered my bus was delayed. The bus scheduled to depart hadn't arrived yet. Joyce, the lady at the ticket counter, shrugged her shoulders when I told her my situation and said the bus "will get here when it gets here". Chapter 11 of my book is titled, 'Laughter Isn't Communication', and indeed neither is shrugging one's shoulders. In the chapter, I describe the best way to avoid escalated verbal onslaughts by being calm and collected. However Joyce was really pushing my buttons by her complacency. Still, she must see this type of thing every day, so I did my best to forgive her blank stares. I didn't try a feeble joke this time.

An hour and a half later, an announcement was made for those of us holding tickets for the 3:35 departure. It seems the bus was cancelled all-together and we had to get new tickets for a 5:45 departure. A minor inconvenience typically, except for the fact I suddenly could not find my pocketbook. I couldn't even recall when I had used it last. Either it was buried in my luggage, lost forever in my bottomless purse, or I had been pick-pocketed. Fortunately, I keep my passport secured around my neck at all times. It was fun trying to inform Joyce a passport is a valid form of identification. Sometimes Americans frighten me. Again, remaining focused worked to my advantage. As stressful as this situation had been so far, at least two good things happened. One: I was finally on a bus heading to Cleveland. Second: I recalled chapter three of my book, 'Laughing at a Change in Circumstance'. No matter what life throws at you, unless it's truly traumatic, you can find some way to look back on the event and laugh. I claim this as a good point because I then decided to keep notes of this travel and use it as source material for a future publication.

With all the complications, I was the last to board the bus. I searched for an empty seat but found it to be more difficult than finding a pin in a pile needles. Any available seat that should have been open was being used by selfish people for carry-on bags and laptops. Finally, I found a seat in the rear of the bus across from 'Mr. Smiley'. Mr. Smiley smelled of piss and vodka and winked at me as I sat down. It seems he incorrectly assumed he was 'my type'. "Are you married?", "Where you headed?", "Did you say you were married?", "Do you have any tattoos?", "You're married, right?" and "Want a swig?", were a few of the questions thrown in my direction. I tried to politely avoid his questions as best as possible till I could take it no more and informed him that I was on my way home from a business trip to see my husband and two children whom I 'loved and missed' very much. His interrogation stopped shortly after, which was great because I was very drowsy and wanted to sleep the entire rest of the journey.

Sweet slumber overtook me, but it was far from restless. I dreamt I was on the bus, naturally enough, but noticed we were going in the wrong direction. I kept seeing signs pointing towards Ohio, but the bus always took the opposite direction. Suddenly I'm seeing signs for Niagara Falls, Hamilton and then Toronto. I start to freak out because instead of going to Cleveland, we're going to Canada! I tried to make my way to the front of the bus but Mr. Smiley is blocking the way with two flasks. He keeps trying to give me one. Somehow I manage my way around him and yell at the bus driver he's going the wrong way. He calmly tells me the bus has to go to Canada because the door is jammed. That's when I woke up to a realistic horror.

To be continued:

Next Week - Professor Sanee continues her travel horror story.

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Professor Sanee resides in Italy
and teaches the course 'the
Ethics of Humour' at I.M.A.
She's also author of the book,
"Why Isn't Anyone Laughing?"

Dragon Boat Racing - 07/13/13

Each Drag Boat raced to the beat of a different drummer.

Not knowing most of the teams, I just called this the blue team.

Each team member must row together if they want to be effective. Posing for the camera is optional.

Normally I'd call this the yellow team, but my friend Ray is one of the rowers. This is the Miller/Coors sponsored "Dragon Brew" team. No dragons on their shirts, but who needs a mascot as long as you've got the strength to win.

While the rest of the team is hard at work, Ray takes a refreshing break.

Notice his co-worker glowering at him.

When the real race begins, it's every team for themselves.

It's going to be close. Who's going to win?

It's my blog, so I can say what I want. Would you believe me if I told you Miller/Coors was number one?

Truthfully, they came in second place.

Ray enjoying his second place medal along with one of his co-workers.

Becoming the Responsible One

R.a.n.t. of week 07/07/13

When did I become the responsible one? Not saying I'm not a responsible person, I am. In my own way. Responsibilities are paramount to an adult, but not everyone looks up to the same people. This past weekend was a very busy one for me. I had almost no time for myself. Just a few of the things I did: take my step-mother shopping, help a friend with his computer IT problems (have you tried turning it off and on?), volunteered some time to set up a pioneer school and then helped a friend move.

Let's concentrate on the move, because that's where I felt most in charge. First and foremost I did a lot of things outside of my comfort zone. For one, driving a moving van. I've never been big on driving larger vehicles but I felt I needed to in this instance. Right from the start I was the eldest helper, at least initially. So when it was time to get the moving van, I was the logical choice. I went with Jo to pick up the van and drove it to their place. A place in back was the ideal spot to load up, so all I had to do was back it up into the spot. Having a bad time with judging distances, especially from such a large vehicle, and only having the help of kids was fairly nerve-wrecking, but I did it.

So we started loading up the van. Because mostly it was younger ones helping and they were just placing stuff into the back of the van, someone had to step up and I've done this rodeo a few times, so again I was the logical choice. Most of the furniture had already been moved so essentially we just had to make sure everything was packing in tight. The last thing you want to happen when moving with a van is things flying around. The current time was 1:00pm and the van had to be back at 4:30 (I thought 4) so I wanted to get this done in one trip. I stacked as best as possible, but there were more odd sort of items than boxes so I had to be creative, yet smart. You don't want to place a box of books on a bundle of plastic wrapped dress clothes, you just don't. By the time the van was filled, all items in the house were gone.

Once again I was in charge of driving the van, fortunately there was space in front of the new place, though I had to do a bit of parallel parking with the moving van. Did I mention I'm not good with spaces? This time I took the "lead" unloading the van. Did I push things along too quickly? Well, I did stress a few times we had to get the van back at a certain time in hopes of inspiring others to 'move it'. But I don't think I was being brusk. But then again, that would be up to anyone else who was there.

I wanted to take the van back right away but food was prepared and others were ready to eat, so I backed down on that opinion of mine. Truth be told, I needed some water and a bite to eat also. It was nice to be able to associate for a little while, but the van still needed to get back so I took charge of that again, making sure I had a friend come along so I had a ride back to my car.

I know, not a very compelling story this week, not very funny, and more than likely I didn't seem like the person in charge or the most responsible one of the group to others. In all things, beauty...... errrrr responsibility is in the eye of the beholder.

Plus is it very responsible to crack yokes all the time?
Sorry, bit of a hang-over from last week.

P.S. If everyone thought this article was going to be about me crashing a U-Haul van. I guess the jokes on you. The van was returned safely.

Racing Dream

Past the others I will zoom.
Many love to watch me scoot.
Quickly speeding in my dream.

Riding in my full costume,
leather jacket and snake-skin boot.
Some consider too extreme.

Racing leads to other's gloom.
My winning, there is no dispute.
Once again I reign supreme!

J.A.Scott

Auto Show - 15, September 2012 (Part Two)

(7).

(8).

(9).

(10).

(11).

(12). Zoinks! It's like, the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo!

 * Annual Auto Show in the Napa Parking Lot - Just outside my house.
** I'm really not a car expert, so if anyone is able to help me identify what type of cars these are I'd really appreciate it.

Auto Show - 15, September 2012 (Part One)

(1).

(2).

(3).

(4).

(5).

(6).

An overview of the entire auto show.

 * Annual Auto Show in the Napa Parking Lot - Just outside my house.
** I'm really not a car expert, so if anyone is able to help me identify what type of cars these are I'd really appreciate it.

Jefferson Co. Fair Demolition Derby: Part 3

Heat 6

This heat involved larger vehicles; trucks and vans.

In years past, there haven't been many entries.

This year was an exception. We were really treated to a great show.

These two trucks got stuck together and had to be separated.

Ramming each other against other cars didn't seem to help.

Heat 7

The final heat consisted of previous winners, that were still able to operate.

The final heat is always a must see.

I love when cars loose pieces or wheels...

...almost as much as I love to watch the cars get pummelled.

These cars truly take a beating. It's amazing they can be refitted for another year.

It comes down to the final two, the judges try to determine who wins.

Jefferson Co. Fair Demolition Derby: Part 2

Heat 4

Just the good ol' boys,

Never meanin' no harm,

Beats all you've ever saw,

been in trouble with the law since the day they was born.

Makin' their way,

Heat 5

The only way they know how,

That's just a little bit more than the law will allow.

Just good ol' boys,

Wouldn't change if they could,

Fightin' the system like a true modern day Robin Hood.


Yeeeeeeeeeee Haaaaaaw

I Just love a good Demolition Derby

Jefferson Co. Fair Demolition Derby: Part 1

The first real competition was mid-size cars - of which there were only two. So this heat didn't last very long. But still, lots of damage was done.

HEAT 1

To start the day off, a new event was scheduled. Lawn mowers came a calling!

The lawn mowers were plentiful and many.

Lots of great hits to start the event off with.

But as more and more of the competition dropped out...

...it came down to two. Which resulted in both continually smacking into each other till one finally died.

Heat 3

Finally, some demolition to write home about.

These cars really take a beating, some even catch on fire.

But no worries, Fire Fighters are standing by.

The demolition can once again continue.

One car finally stands alone. Or more accurately, half a car - or so it appears.

Another set to come.