Tales from the Reunion

David's tale from the reunion:  Each year at Thanksgiving Dinner, his father Gene would open a bottle of champagne. Every time, the cork would fly out of the bottle, hit the ceiling, and rebound, striking Aunt Kathleen in the head. Of course he would say it was an accident--but Dave observes that his father was an excellent pool player.

Jon's story from the reunion arose out of his trying to get home again. It was a long haul from Florence, OR, to rural Virginia:

I rolled out of bed at 2:00 a.m. last Thursday to start a trip to the West Coast (for five days, including travel time).  After three airplanes and a 250/300 mile rental car trip, I pulled into Florence, Oregon about 5 p.m. that evening (which included gaining three hours of time change).

 

The purpose of the trip, a family reunion, met all of the expectations which I think any of the attendees had.

 

I checked out of my motel at 11:00 a.m. Monday, and started to re-trace my journey back to Virginia.  When I boarded the plane in Portland (a 'red-eye') at 10:00 p.m., I thought I had located my seat a couple of isles back of first class.  It was a middle seat on the lefthand side of the isle going back.  I stowed my round carry-on in the overhead above the seat (in a space which exactly fit).  About that time, a woman in the seat in front of what I thought was mine, asked me to be careful in stowing mine, (ostensibally [sp?], because her bags were 'fragile(?)'.  Since, at that point, we were already holding up the boarding process, I just suggested that she check it herself.  .......The hysteria level went up, and I can't even remember her comments.  Fortunately, a passenger came down the aisle, and said that the middle seat (which I thought was mine), was his.  I said, "good, you can argue with this (bitch) lady."  I then moved accross the aisle, and an African American lady bound for Miami let me into the middle seat and said "I won't argue with you."  I said "bless you."  About that time, a young fellow (who looked like he had put on his mustach with a mascara brush), in the aisle seat next to the (bitch) lady, turned and started in on me, saying that I should be ashamed, etc., etc.,. 

 

I don't want to travel anymore.....at least soon!