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The plan was to accompany my parents to Rome during the Serra International Convention during June. They were going to meet in the Holy City for a couple of days and then spend some time touring around. I was going to tag team with my sister Roberta to watch them. That way half the time we could be on our own. There was one potentially disastrous day trip planned to Florence where they would get to walk around all day. Not the best idea for one person  using a walker and the other who was having a constant battle with gravity.

Also, I was going to photograph a wedding while I was there for the Business Manager of Serra International, John Liston. So, I was going to make some cheddar during the nine days.

Last Friday night, my father lost a round in his battle with gravity in my sister Stephanie's shower in Marysville, WA. The parents had decided to compound their rigors by doing a week in Washington to celebrate Stephanie's birthday, my niece's graduation from High School, and Father's day. When you are old and infirm, it's best to make things as difficult as possible.

They opted not to go to the hospital Friday. Which was a good thing, because it afforded him the opportunity to fall again Saturday morning in my sister's house. I got the frantic call as I was driving up to the Bay Area to photograph a fencing tournament as part of selling my soul to the devil. (I'd sell it again in a heartbeat)

My father decided he needed another ambulance ride in a different state so he could fill out his Emergency Room Bingo card.

Not only was my father hurt in the fall, he was also severely dehydrated and his potassium levels were elevated. The nice people at the hospital decided they would keep him. They also decided he can't fly. Not until at least next Monday when he has a follow up doctor's appointment to see where he is at.

My sister Roberta has to stay there with the parents in Marysville because sister Stephanie is flying off on her vacation with her daughter and grandchildren to Belgium.

Turns out my father has pneumonia as well. I tried to joke with him on the phone but he just sounded defeated like I've never heard him sound before.

So, Rome. I have to go. I promised to photograph a wedding. I kind of want to go because it's Rome, but I'll be there by myself.

The plane leaves at 5 and I'll be on it.

I had to talk to my mother today. She wanted me to help convince my father to go to rehab. I told her I wouldn't be party to ganging up my father especially after he had made up his mind to come home. Plus, Kaiser wasn't going to pay for the rehab visit. I also pointed out to my mother that she wouldn't like it if we ganged up on her to convince her about medical procedures.

So, good times.

So sorry to hear about your dad.  Hope he recovers soon.  Gravity is a bitch.

I find travelling across an ocean alone is very contemplative.  Wishing you a Roman Holiday, complete with a coquettish Audrey, preferably in color instead of B&W.*




*tq - you didn't see this.  you didn't see anything.

Quote:DM wrote:
...complete with a coquettish Audrey, preferably in color instead of B&W

More mysterious names, allusions to past histories...

But I do understand gravity.  And DM's right.  It's a bitch.

And it gets meaner every year.

Wishing you and yours well, Greg.

In retrospect, Audrey was the wrong name to evoke. 

I meant this Audrey.

I envy you your Roman Holiday, but am sorry to hear about your Dad. I could recommend some coffee places, but you don't drink coffee. Restaurants? OK, I can recommend restaurants: Osteria Barberini near the top of the Spanish Steps. They specialize in truffles. Barbara is looking for her master list from our visit. That is the only one I remember by name.

Caccia e Pepe is the local pasta dish, so avail yourself of it anywhere. Tasty, simple, and filling.

---

Gelato: Good everywhere, but here is one we tried: Gelateria Valentino (Trevi Fountain).
La Gelateria Frigidarium (Piaza Navona)

Lunch (Piazza Navona) Est Artigiani del Gusto

Dinner: Ciccia Bomba, Cantina Lucifero (Piazza Navona/Campo de Fiori)

Osteria del Mario (Pantheon)

I hope the fencing club near the Pantheon (Accademia Grecco) is open when you go by.

I look forward to your photos and commentaries!

Dude! I never get my Audry's mixed up.

This film was actually on June 5 and yes, I watched it. I might have seen it a couple of times. And yes, there is a Roman Holiday tour and I'm going to put my hand in the mouth of truth since I am a tourist.

(06-21-2017, 08:18 PM)Greg Wrote: [ -> ]Dude! I never get my Audry's mixed up.

This film was actually on June 5 and yes, I watched it. I might have seen it a couple of times. And yes, there is a Roman Holiday tour and I'm going to put my hand in the mouth of truth since I am a tourist.

Can't wait for that fb pic. Tourist on!

Scene: Bedroom Night.

After a long fruitless hike to photograph the Rome Panorama, Greg returns to his bedroom. As he looks down upon his pillow, he notices something odd.

Greg: What is that bright red blotch on my pillow?

Greg scratches at the blotch.

Greg: Hey, that's blood! Why is their blood on my pillow?

Greg blames the maid, as you do. He flips the pillow over and decides to talk to management about it in the morning.


Scene: Bathroom, the next day

Bleary eyed, Greg prepares to shave, but he notices something odd in his reflection in the mirror.

Greg: Hey, what is all that black stuff in my ear? Hey, that's dried blood! Why is my ear full of dried blood?

And, scene!

I was thinking Airport security had gotten better and arriving 2 hours before my flight should have gotten me to the gate in plenty of time.

Not so much.

The line to check in for my flight to Munich and then to Rome was the longest check in line I have ever seen. And Lufthansa, was only checking in two flights. The line crawled forward as the clocked seemed to tick ahead at an amazing pace.

I finally got to the point where I could ask an agent if I was going to make my flight. And he said not to worry. I was only about ten minutes away from the counter at this point. I was also ten minutes from the point when they stopped allowing you on the plane. 

I guess somebody at the gate noticed that a lot of people who were scheduled for their flight still weren't checked in . Suddenly, they opened up new check-in counters. The agents started asking who was on the Munich flight. I was pulled from the line and put in another line. It pissed me off that I was put in line behind people that were behind me in the original line.

This new line didn't seem to move with any sense of urgency either. They did a head check of who was on the Munich flight. I was the second to last of the people in line to go to Munich. Finally, I checked in and raced off to security.

Well, the security line people made the Lufthansa people look speedy and efficient. I was resolved to spending the night in the hotel at the airport. I had about ten minutes left to get through security in order to get to my plane. I told the TSA people walking around of my plight and got stoney silence in response.

We are doing the snake through those ribboned demarcated lines. What the TSA was doing was blocking off one giant feeder line  until one of the smaller sections was freed up and they would feed the big line into the smaller section.

At one point, the people in the long line decided that the block ribbon lane divider in front of them must be a mistake so they removed it and started to feed into the line in front of me. Somebody started swearing. He sounded a lot like me.

They also closed a whole TSA section of screeners because they were going off shift. All the people waiting for those TSA screeners were suddenly put into my TSA section as well. The clock was ticking louder and louder.

Then they opened the closed TSA section back up. The people behind me in line were led to the now open section and where whisked into the gates area. Yes, I was losing my mind. But then I got a text message from Lufthansa announcing that my flight had been delayed 30 glorious minutes. Woo fucking hoo.

My TSA agent decided that he had to search my bag and rub down my laptop for gunpowder residue. That guy was in no hurry  either as I watched my extra thirty minutes disappear, too.

As I was walking to the farthest gate in the terminal, I heard the message that this was the final call for my flight.

I was the last person in line to get on the plane. But the key was, I was on the plane.

The flight to Munich was long and uneventful. I caught up on movies. My row mate promptly went to sleep.  The coolest feature about this flight was the downstairs areas for the bathrooms. They must have carved out some room in the cargo hold for them. But there were eight bathrooms down there.

At Munich, I had plenty of time between flights. Which is good because they changed my gate from one end of the terminal to the other. But no problem. I wracked my brain to see how much German I could remember from my High School days. The answer was not a lot.

While we waited at the new gate, I noticed storm clouds roll across the air field. Pretty soon, it was raining so hard, you couldn't see the planes on the Tarmac. This caused consternation for the powers that be and no fuel trucks were let to refuel the planes for an hour. So, we were an hour late taking off for Munich.

The Rome airport was quirky. They had a piano set up in baggage claim for any passengers to play if they so desired. As I walked by, one woman took them up on this service and began to play. I could tell she was a passenger, because her bags were stacked around her.

The luggage gods decided to ease my burden and my bags were delivered first. Since I had shown my passport in Germany, there was no passport control in Italy. I was out in seconds.

It's been a while since I had been to Rome and I forgotten what the Italians were like. As I walked to the Taxi rank, a man asked me if I was seeking a Taxi. I said yes. He grabbed my bag and we were on our way.

Well, he wasn't an official taxi driver. He worked for one of the airport car services who basically hijack passengers before they can get to the taxi rank. Only officially taxi services are allowed to park in the Taxi rank.

By the time I figured out the scam, I was already being given my ticket for the car service. I was also made to wait while other passengers were hijacked. On the one hand, the price I was quoted was cheaper than the fare the taxi drivers were required to charge. On the other, I was standing around the airport waiting. Decisions, decisions. 

Before I became too grumpy, my fellow hijackees and I were taken out to the parking structure to get in our Mercedes van for our trip to Rome. We stopped one more time as the Car service had found one more group of suckers for the drive.

Eventually, I was deposited at the Ergife Palace hotel on the outskirts of Rome. There is nothing around me for quite some distance except for apartments and schools. I am not in a bustling tourist district. It will be a hike to get to anything worthwhile. Fortunately, there is a lot of worthwhile things to hike, too.

Can we get back to the blood on the pillow? Did you stop on Ceti-Alpha 5?

(06-22-2017, 11:20 PM)Dr. Ivor Yeti Wrote: [ -> ]Can we get back to the blood on the pillow? Did you stop on Ceti-Alpha 5?

Ditto.

Nice ST ref, Maestro.

They said they were our friends. When we came aboard.

Biggest continuity error in the best Star Trek movie: Space Seed was Season 1.  Chekov doesn't join the crew until Season 2.  Chekov and Khan never crossed paths even though Khan says "I never forget a face, Mister ...Chekov. Isn't it? I never thought to see your face again."

But never mind that.  Was the ear blood from a hicky from Princess Ann?  Because we'd all be super impressed if it was.

I'm thinking it's part of Ergife Palace Hotel's free blood testing while you sleep plan.

Do they check prostates while you sleep too?