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POP! Goes the Wayan
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Guess what Dad got!
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And he gets a kiss too!
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Here I am, screaming down I-95 at 85
miles per hour, and I’m getting passed! After a five year hiatus from
driving, long enough for my license to expire and my skills to dull, I’m
back on the roads again and America sure has changed. When I left, the
speed limit was 65 mph, and anything over 75 mph was a hefty fine. Now,
I’m getting passed at 85 mph!
traffic is not the only thing
passing me by; I’m back in Florida for the holidays trying to keep my cool
under an onslaught of shopping and sun tanning.
Its been three wonderful years of
shop-less Christmases for me, with only minimal gifts in Russia and a
moped ride in Laos, so you can imagine my shock when I’m handed shopping
flyers as I push my way out of customs in Chicago.
Down here in Vero, the
commercialism isn’t so bad, but I did have a Moscow Metro flashback as I
elbowed my way through the Mall. Shopping for Ma and Pa was hard. What do
you get for Americans who have everything?
I do know what to get for a
beautiful young lady across the pond in UK. One of those gold shiny things
that she wants to wear on her finger. Of course, that is the hardest
present of all, for whatever I choose will be closely scrutinized by that
young lady for years to come.
In the past week, I drove a few
hundred miles, traveling between Vero, Palm Beach, and Orlando to visit
old friends and look for the right gifts. With my usual skill, I’m not
spending all my time in the car. I’ve found ingenious ways to catch a few
rays in the process.
At first I just went to the beach
to work on my tan, as one would do in a town called Vero Beach, but as the
weather has gone unusually cold, I’m now forced to lay out at the pool.
Yeah, hard life I live.
PS: Mom, you know I was only
kidding about the 85-mph part. Call it creative writing, because I would
never exceed the posted speed limit in your car.
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