And I’ve managed to find the only Starbucks in the country without free WiFi. Oh well, thank goodness for Live Writer. I can at least write the post and upload it when I’m allowed back in the house, which should be in about an hour.
So why have I been banished from my house? Andie’s having her PEO meeting, and if I was so unfortunate as to see the secret handshake, they’d have to kill me. For the life of me, I can’t understand that organization. I mean, I get the whole scholarship thing and philanthropy and such, but the secrecy thing is just so childish. Non-members are not even allowed to know what PEO stands for … which of course makes for some interesting speculation. But I think the gender-based exclusion is what frosts me the most.
Not that I’d WANT to belong, but how many organizations that men had created have been forced by the courts to open their membership to women. Nearly every one that had a woman make a stink about it. The double standard is just appallingly evident. All-women’s schools are just fine … but let there try to be an all MEN’S school, and some woman somewhere would demand her constitutional right to attend. I honestly think that if they can make a case for single-gender education for women, it should be good for guys as well. Not that many guys would WANT to attend an all men’s school (though about 10% of the population might think it was just dandy … not that there’s anything wrong with that).
So, by virtue of being born with a “Y” chromosome, I’m banished from my house until 10:00. Since I have to get up at 5:15 tomorrow to be at work, I’m showing back up at the door at 10:00 whether they want me or not.
At least the Elks and Masons and other traditionally men’s organizations have the good sense to own or rent their own facilities for their meetings, where they can drink, and smoke, and swear, and eat bad food, and scratch, and not have to worry about throwing their wives out of the house for the night. Not that they’d be allowed to do that anyway.
So what have I done with my evening of banishment? Hooked up with my friend John for a glass of wine at his house, then sushi and a beer at Tama in Town Center, then a measure of Glen Fiddich and a cigar at the martini bar at Casa Marina. Normally a spot-on evening, and enjoyable tonight, but these early mornings, a nagging sniffle, and a bit of a snit over the circumstances made me just want to park on the couch and watch another episode of “John Adams” that I’ve got on the DVR. Instead, I’m sitting in a Starbucks without WiFi sipping decaf. Oh well. It won’t be long.
It’s in these situations that I really wish I had a little sailboat at a marina somewhere that I could be sitting below with the companionway open, listening to the wind sing through the rigging and the main halyard slapping against the mast. I love that sound, until I try to go to sleep, and then you’ve got to find a way to secure the halyard to part of the standing rigging to keep it from banging all night. But if you’ve ever heard a the halyard slapping against a flagpole in a fresh breeze, you know the sound. Sometimes it just seemed like a symphony in the marina at night … quiet but for the running rigging clanging softly in the breeze. Most sailors I know have a love-hate relationship with that sound. It’s unique to sailboats, though the whole flagpole thing is a reasonable facsimile.
Well, I’m just about to be chased out of Starbucks. And they don’t close for 20 minutes, but oh well. I guess I’ll just drive around for a while, or maybe I’ll go sit in the car in the driveway and use my own WiFi until they’ll let me back in the house.
–to be continued–
When I pulled up to the pump, the last person there had gotten $10 worth of gas … a whopping 2 1/2 gallons. Geezerman remembers when that would have filled up the Chevy van I used to drive.
Meanwhile, here’s a bit of a milestone. I just was on my “manage” page and saw this is my 200th post to the blog. I’m surprised I’ve managed to stay with it, but I’m glad I have.
I’m very tired, and I just want to go to sleep. So I think I’ll do that.