Friday, March 18, 2016
Ah, Cleveland. City of Light. City of Magic.
Ah, Cleveland. The city poetic!
If you have never been to Cleveland, I have to say that you are missing a wonderful city filled with wonderful people.
But Hopkins International Airport? The airport prosaic.
Or put another way, an airport clusterfuck. Seriously, Cleveland. I know you can do better. I mean BWI-Thurgood Marshall is simply Tits compared to this dreary mess of an airport.
Its being remodeled again, but it is a nightmare. It was a nightmare arriving, and it appears that it will be a nightmare going as only one security checkpoint is operational.
And it didn't get better when I went to Budget Rent A Car and discovered that the Budget is more about bilking people. The first car we got had a flat tire in the lot. The second car smelled like loaded diaper, which came from the loaded diaper in the back. Then on the third car, there was only 1/4 tank of gas.
Tonya, the Budgetess at the counter rolled her eyes when I came in a third time, and she doubted my word until I showed her a picture of the tank reading.
"Oh, just bring it back with a full tank and we'll reimburse you."
Cookie doesn't like to be played.
Suffice it to say that it took every fiber of my being to be nice to Tonya, who was having a bad day and had six other people screaming at her for more of the same in her lot.
Anyhow, with that fixed, we were off. Off to Cleveland. City of mirth. City of Madness.
But I digress.
I am in this fair city to do more hard time in Shaker Heights, albeit incognito. This is a super fast ninja trip to check in on my last "Aunt" on my fathers side - a woman who is actually an extended cousin, but an aunt, at least to me.
Aunt had a fall and at 91 had hip replacement surgery. You know, broken hips 50 years ago were the gateway to certain death. People died from blood clots and such while trying to recover from broken hips. But Aunt sailed through the surgery which was done with a nerve block, a heavy tranquilizer, and anterior incision. So today I got to see her up and moving about.
Afterward, we had a two hour visit in which I had to work with her to remember me, which she did, and remember many people who were in her life many years ago.
So tomorrow, we do it again, and then home to Maryland.
You know we have been in Baltimore for four years, but it is still strange to think of it as "home", but it is.
Now, I will drift off to sleep as I prepare for yet another day of doing hard time in Shaker Heights.