A vacation is what you take when you can’t take real life anymore.
If the automated posting facility works, then this should magically appear on my blog at 08:00 GMT on Friday November the 2nd ~ when I’m on an aeroplane flying south over England.
In a little while I shall be in that most magical of all places, Heathrow Airport, (English Irony), ready to board another aircraft bound for Chicago O’Hare. Eventually, after yet another flight I will arrive at John Wayne in Orange County, California.
Really, this is one time when it’s the destination that counts, and not the journey.
Englishmen say; ‘sorry’ for no real reason
I’m sorry but I think John Wayne is a really cool name for an airport
If, like me, you were brought up on a diet of John Wayne Westerns, with a dash of Gary Cooper and Errol Flynn thrown in, then Carson City sounds like a one horse mining town at the end of a dusty stagecoach ride.
You know what? Driving through Carson City still feels like being in a place where the sherrif has to watch his back. Carson City is a town where you put the top up on your Mustang and lock the doors.
I had a cheerful trip down to Carson… crossing the divide between Silver City and Spring Valley… I felt a mighty inclination to party somewhere. ~ Mark Twain.
Carson City is on the California one-ten, and if you have sense you will take that fast on the toll lanes and never drive through downtown Carson.
We’ll give him a fair trial, and then we’ll hang him legal…
I was happy that the girl riding shotgun scores a solid 10 on the being intimidating scale.
On a good day, I could pass for Gary Cooper, maybe…
the girl riding shotgun