On Friday night I'm driving, so one drink and that's it, want to get back, early night, lot to do Saturday. Gym, supermarket and whatnot. Saturday afternoon a barbecue with friends in suburbia. Keep the noise down. Neighbours. Chit chat. Walk the dogs. One glass of cider which for some reason triggers a horrible allergic reaction. Sneezing all evening. Early bed again, cup of tea, can't play football with a hangover. Up at 7.30am Sunday morning sufficiently recovered to play against fattening friends with the usual disproportionate competitive ferocity. Back for a coffee, brunch, knackered, nice afternoon kip. Glorious sunshine so I take the chance to coat the fence in Ronseal Woodstain. After that, bringing in armfuls of washing, it suddenly occurs to me that I might not be very cool any more.
"Am I still cool?" I ask, pitifully.
Mrs Brit puts my mind to rest immediately: "You were never cool, dear."
20 comments:
This was how my weekend went.
Friday evening - Put Final Fantasy 12 in the Playstation and started playing.
Monday, 1 am - Collapsed onto bed.
So I'm still cool compared to you then.
I think you're a mixed case, Brit. Barbecues are still cool, in my book at least; fence-painting isn't. Sneezing after drinking cider is just weird.
You obviously are blessed with your partner, Brit. Wise women know that cool men make lousy husbands, fathers and longterm significant others, and they shrewdly opt for the uncool among us as the route to monogamous success. Of course, they still fantasize non-stop about the cool guys while we are out staining the fence, but we'll always be number one in the laundry room.
True, Peter, but there are limits. I'm not sure many are happy to tolerate Ali's 48-hour-Playstation-marathon kind of uncool.
Yes, well the problem is that, at Ali's age, a 48 hour Playstation marathon can be seen as cool. Sick, but cool.
Brit, I thought I was your standard for "at least I'm not as uncool as him" after the rock scissors paper thing.
You'll know you've really lost it when, during a spat, you threaten to go out to the bars and pick up women and instead of getting mad your special someone just laughs and says "yeah, right".
You're still my standard, SH (unless Ali was playing Final Fantasy over the weekend of his 21st birthday, or his stag night or something).
A corollary of "If you have to tell" is "If you have to ask."
Brit
You asked a question that belongs on the list of questions never to ask one's spouse, along with "does this dress make me look fat?"
Good heavens, you've never asked that have you, Duck?
Which question?
Duck, we're collecting funds behind the scenes to pay for your extension course in irony, but we can't afford a fulltime degree programme in wit. LOL, Brit.
Peter,
If I cared about irony I'd move to Canada.
Brit,
You can't achieve coolness in your spare time, it's a full time job. Plus I don't think that there are any cool bloggers.
Are we trading weekend stories?
Friday Night: Internet surfing with a glass of whiskey. Early to bed because,
Saturday: Up early and at the rental center by 8:00. Get my paddle broom and spend the rest of the morning sweeping gravel off the lawn. Where does the lawn end and the driveway start? Where I got tired of paddle brooming.
Next, on to the police station to pick up my gun permit. Then, return the paddle broom by noon. While the wife takes the kids swimming, lie out in the hammock and smoke a cigar. Make an early dinner (tacos) because Saturday night is date night. We went to see "Hot Fuzz." Early to bed, because
Sunday: Up early to take the girl to Sunday school. Back home to shovel piles of gravel (see Saturday) into the wheel barrel to use in filling potholes. Pick up the girl from Sunday school. In the afternoon, take the kids to the park. While they rode their bikes, I walked the dog around the perimeter. Back home to cook chicken fried rice for dinner. Watch tv until 10:00 and then early to bed because ....
Oops, that's not part of the weekend.
So, where do I fall on the Brit-AOG coolness scale?
Well, David, smoking a cigar in a hammock while the wife entertains the kids is almost cool enough to cancel out the paddle brooming, but shovelling piles of gravel brings you back to our level.
You still beat Ali, though.
Day of the week is absolutely meaningless in my line of work.
Saturday: Checkride -- four hours of dial-a-disaster in the flight simulator. Passed the check, but brain reduced to chutney. Go to bar next to hotel and deplete the world's supply of gin and tonic.
Sunday: Fly from Anchorage to Osaka. Go to pax terminal, hang for a couple hours, then deadhead to Detroit, happy to travel first class, and even happier that it is not on my dime. It is a little disconcerting to leave on April 29 at 1315, and arrive on April 29 at 1205. Get home, do my Lance Armstrong wannabe act, then play Mr. Mom because the real thing is busy trying to get patients suffering various degrees of renal failure to another sunrise.
As for cool, I've learned not to ask a question to which I won't be able to stand the answer.
Especially if it is likely to be accompanied by gales of laughter.
You've flown fighter jets in war, Skipper.
That puts you several evolutionary scales ahead of the rest of us in coolness.
Skipper: Isn't it a little odd for your company to abandon you in Osaka and have you make your way home on your own? Do they at least pay you for the time you spend getting back home?
Ali:
Thank you, that was very kind.
David:
They didn't abandon me. Instead, it was if they made it one of their corporate goals to satisfy my travel requirements to the last detail.
The trip was one leg to Osaka, then deadhead back to Anchorage via Detroit.
(Near as I can tell the trip planner must have been subjected to American high school geography.)
Fortunately, since I live in the Detroit metroplex, that played right into my hands: rather than spend the contractually required layover in Osaka, I rescheduled the KIX - DTW leg 24 hours earlier, getting me home a day sooner.
What's more, I rescheduled the DTW - ANC leg from yesterday to tomorrow morning (I have a trip leaving Sunday). So, instead of leaving tonight for another round of sleep deprivation on the company jumpseat, I leave tomorrow morning and fly in a real seat.
All of it first class, paid for by the company.
And I get to keep all the frequent flier miles.
And I got four and a half pay hours, plus per diem, for each day I didn't spend in a hotel (one in KIX, the other in DTW).
As sweet deals go, that is certainly one of them.
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