Posted by
AudiR10TDI on Sunday, July 06, 2008 5:24:26 PM
Niagara Falls, Ontario (July 7, 2008) -- Those of you who know me are aware that I work two jobs, and what time I have free from one or the other, laughingly called *vacation*, are spent going to and from my parents home in New York. My nutritionist asked me once if I ever took a vacation just for myself, and I just looked at her blankly. The last time I took time off to simply enjoy myself was in the 1990s, around the time of Gulf War I, when I spent a week in Switzerland followed by three weeks in New Zealand. Life used to be a lot less complex.
Someone once pointed out that to a businessman, time is money -- to a creative person, money is time. This month I got a raise, quite a nice one actually, and because circumstances delayed it by two months there was a big fat bonus in my last cheque. That, and the cancellation of the Champ Car race here in Toronto due to the sellout of the guy we thought was actually interested in Champ Car racing but who was apparently interested only in parking his money until a major lawsuit was settled, made me decide that it was time the girl had some time just to do as she liked. Consequently, I booked off the two days I had set aside for the Champ Car race, and declined the invitation to spend the four days with my sister at her cottage, celebrating the 3rd birthday of one of the great-nephews, and decided that I would spend four days doing just whatever I liked. For four days I would be Independently Wealthy and I would saunter.
Thursday I got up at 7 (an hour later than usual) and did my web updates, then sauntered up to the library, on foot, with a load of books to return and the vague idea that I might have a picnic later on. The library is pretty noisy on a Thursday morning; apparently children are no longer taught to be quiet even in the library. I took out so many books that it took their book checker outer machine 3 sheets of paper to print them all out. They vary from paperbacks of stories I liked in the Fifties, to a huge biography of Oskar Schindler and an equally massive book on the Six Day War. (Daddy says it only lasted six days because for the first three days Moishe Dayan had the patch on the wrong eye. You have to be Jewish....) A visit to the No Frills grocery store across the street produced absolutely nothing I had wanted for my picnic -- it is a poor cousin of the shop in my old neighbourhood where people shop who were not brought up in Eastern Europe and therefore do not accept the idea that they are lucky to get anything, much less anything they actually want. I decided that I would go to the movies instead and see Indiana Jones 4. I sauntered home, had veg and dip for lunch and changed clothes, and went to the movies, taking a book along. Two blocks from the theatre I heard prolonged batlike shrieking, and as I got closer to the theatre I saw both sides of the streets lined with teenaged girls carrying hand printed signs that said MARRY ME JOE and such in hot pink magic marker. I asked someone what was going on. It was the Jonas Brothers, said one of the girls. No wiser, I hurried through the crush and the screaming and gained the security of the movie with relief. Lunch and ticket purchased, I settled down for two hours to wait and then joined about 20 people in the theatre. The movie is definitely not for the Jonas Brothers crowd, who will only understand it in another 40 years. The story is a Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon and Cate Blanchette makes me long to shout WHERE ARE MOOSE AND SQUIRREL? every time she opens her mouth -- but the underlying story is the same as Star Trek III: just because you brats observe our less than girlish figures and our grey hair and wrinkles, do not assume that we are stupid, helpless and retro. We are a lot smarter than you are, we know everything you know and a whole lot more, because we were paying attention in school and not text messaging and whining, and although we are your parents, we can too keep up. We also know that treasure is not necessarily coinage, and that in the end getting married to the mother of your child is worth it -- and keep your hands off our hat because we are still using it, Junior.
Friday morning it was off to town (stopping to get a McDonalds breakfast on the way), where I had my hair done and tracked down some Quebec 400th Anniversary stamps for my sister, mailed a letter to a New Zealand friend who collects stamps, covering it with Anne of Green Gables, First Oil Strike in Alberta, and Canadian Actors stamps ... bought some shorts, which was the usual harassment because the clerk was shaped like a perfect Figure One and tossed through four racks of Size Zero and Size Two, tried to get me to take a Size 10 (If I could wear size 10 I would not have needed new shorts at all) and short-shorts (nobody over the age of 60 should wear short shorts, no matter WHAT she may think) before finding four pairs of Size 12 for me to try on. One pair was white, which I abandoned immediately; the first thing I do with white clothes is spill coffee on them. Then I throw them away. One was khaki and made me look like someone in a Britcom. The other two, jeans shorts and a pair of charcoal grey, I bought. Total time expended about 10 minutes. I hate shopping for clothes. A quick check to see if there were any Azzurri shirts left (too big and too costly) and I headed home for lunch and a few hours by the pool. People who lounge by the pool during the week are not burdened with small fry. They actually chat for a bit. This was quite nice. Off to see fireworks downtown, lovely 4th of July display marred by shrieking horde of Jonas Brothers fans across the street. Make a note to suggest that since Lake Ontario is so close, Jonas Brothers be drowned.
Saturday was the day for the Casino. Instead of going on the early bus which I usually do, I went by the grocery store to pick up my weeks supply of boxes and cans (Mayo Clinic Diet) and some stuff to take along; I only planned tospend $20 at the casino and usually that leaves me about four hours to lounge outside with a book and wander around the Falls. The 9:00 bus was always packed; the Noon bus was pretty full too but I got there first and had time for a nice chat with a German woman as the Chinese lined up behind us. The Chinese love to gamble. So do I, and so does the German lady. When I get on board the bus, I share my seat with an Italian lady. I can not understand a lot of what she says, because she speaks quietly and has a heavy accent, but we manage a pleasant conversation for a bit and then I get out my Six Day War book and she naps. At the Casino the bus driver says that everyone should remain seated and NOT rush to the front until the Casino Lady gets on and is ready to hand out our vouchers (you get your fare back in gambling chips). The Chinese people immediately jump out of their seats and rush to the front, pretending they cannot understand English. The Italian lady,who gambles 3 times a week, says they always do this.
I immediately strike a jackpot when I sit down at a slot machine (one I cannot get back on for the rest of the day -- and it is the only one like it). I immediately made up my Gambling Plan for the day, which includes a firm plan that when I have doubled this jackpot I will cash out and play my other $10. I keep this resolve. The other $10 keeps me amused for three hours, as my luck is pretty good; out into the sunshine at 5:00 I write a post card to the parents, eat my lunch, read a bit, walk around the Falls, and board the bus for home. My seat mate is from Jamaica and we chat about how awful the younger generation are to work with, entertaining each other with horror stories seen over 12 or so years. As I came up the sidewalk from the subway my cell phone rings and Mama inquires anxiously where I have been; my sister has received a message from my office computer and everyone had forgotten I was taking time off. I reassure them and they tell me about the NA$CAR race and ask why I was not at Watkins Glen. I explain about crapwagons, for the thirtieth or fortieth time. They will not remember.
Today is Sunday and I went to church, came home and did my housework, ate my diet food and pined for candy bars. Tomorrow I will go back to work, my four days of Independence at an end.
To a creative person, money is time to saunter, to select and to loaf by the pool. I could get used to it. Unfortunately my lotto ticket said that my ship has not yet come in.