Archives for the month of: January, 2012

Donna Louise here supervising the loading of the car. Each piece of luggage contains a tracking device perfected by Mikey, who, though paranoid, knows his security devices. He built these after I told him about my friends who’d lost their bags on direct flights.

“These babies will protect your luggage, Donna Louise.”

One friend flew non-stop from Kansas City to Las Vegas. His checked suitcase didn’t make it. The airline never found it.

Another friend checked her husband’s cremains (IMHO a yucky word for “ashes”) because TSA, the step-children of the Uber-men (Homeland Security), told her she couldn’t carry them onboard.

She found her checked bag and, against her better judgment, packed the urn. When she arrived in Denver, she took her bags and went to the hotel. She opened her suitcase and no cremains, only an impression of the urn on her underwear. The airline never found her husband’s ashes.

Mikey suggested the government’s running experiments on building humans from ashes and agents stole them. Apparently he’d watched a program on the Sci-Fi network about the undercover operation.

If I lose my luggage within 2,000 miles of my location, I press the alarm button and an earsplitting squeal commences and won’t stop until I push the button again.

“But, Mikey, what happens if I push the button and the bag is somewhere far away. Won’t that cause confusion?”

“Sure, you want to disorient them. They used that on Noriega in Panama to drive him out of hiding. If it goes on long enough, the sound will make them confess to their crimes, but that’s the wage of their sin.”

That’s the point where Mikey gets a little scary with “avenging god” thing. I usually excuse myself and go back across the street to my little piece of paranoia-free space. Bless Mikey’s heart.

In a few hours we’ll touch down at Mitchell International Airport—now there’s a story. In 1926 General Mitchell stepped on the U.S. Navy’s last nerve by claiming the superiority of an air force. When they didn’t listen he accused the administration of neglecting the people’s welfare. Court-martialed and found guilty, he resigned and took his campaign to the people. The traditional military forces didn’t think airplanes would help that much. Wrong!

As Mama always said, “Asylums are filled with visionaries and the mentally ill because people can’t tell the difference between the two.” So far I’ve managed to remain free.

Donna Louise here examining my plane ticket for my first class flight to Milwaukee. I’ve never flown first class before, now I’ll see why people spend all that money for wider seats, more leg room, and all the booze you can drink. Better be a lot of all that to justify the expense. Maybe the flight attendants are nicer.

The letter that accompanied the ticket promised me a driver who’d meet Guthrie and me at the airport and take us to the hotel. Thank goodness, I didn’t want to wear Guthrie out with lifting and carrying.

We leave tomorrow morning at 11. I insist on being at the airport two hours before flight time because of my air travel karma. That extra time allows me enough time to clear security and settle down before flying off into the yellow, blue yonder. OMG, I’ve got yellow on the brain—wide, blue yonder.

I’m packed and ready. I’m taking everything I could possibly need.

Guthrie looked at the stuff scattered around the bedroom. “Why are you taking toilet paper? Milwaukee is a major American city with all the conveniences.”

“I like this particular brand and always take two rolls. Yes, I know Milwaukee’s a big city, but I want all this. Honestly, it’s all about my wants since I need very little.”

My list of “must see” things includes the “flying art museum” with the roof that raises a lowers like wings. I’ll go see the art while I’m there.

The home of one of Wisconsin’s famous folk artists is located in the White Fish Bay neighborhood and her art hangs in the trees and sits in the yard. You can’t go on the property, but you can see a lot from the road according to the guidebook.

The pageant starts Wednesday with a welcome lunch at the famous Duck & Dog Restaurant, four-stars according to some sources. The dining room looks out over Lake Michigan. They serve duck prepared in a variety of ways. I don’t think they use any dog meat. I didn’t see it on the menu.

Guthrie will come with me wherever I go. We have developed hand signals to use if we can’t communicate verbally.

Today I have appointments for a hair cut, a manicure and pedicure, and a facial. I made Guthrie join me. Monica, here we come for our facials. Work your magic.