Grandma's bag

I suppose I'm rationalizing when I say my practice of taking in treats and small drinks to the movies for my grandchildren isn't wrong.
Marc calls it smuggling.
I say it's my way of providing decent snacks and refreshment when the alternative is not only really expensive but consists of junk calories and sugar.
When I load up five grandkids for the summer clubhouse movie, I admit I have to take a really big purse to hold the popcorn, the small tin cans of drink and the chocolate bars.
I then proceed to divvy out the goods along with straws, napkins and Wet Wipes.
The kids are happy and I'm happy.
There's no waiting in line and no fussing over the choices.
I've been quite happy with my life of crime.
So today, when Marc showed me the story about Cinemark moving to ban big bags from the movie theaters, I was sorry to see it.
The company line is that it will help with security concerns (not like the grandmothers out there are packing guns in their purses).
Cinemark says it's necessary to protect their customers (and their bottom line).
I am willing to say I'm sorry and even willing to change my lowdown ways.
BUT I still won't buy the candy and treats available at the showhouse concession stand.
It's all way over-priced for one thing.
And I don't appreciate being forced into paying a high price for something I don't want to eat or have my grandchildren eat.
I suppose I could just bring a smaller bag but I hear the theaters are also going to start searching incoming luggage.
Maybe I could start wearing my grandma vest with all the little velcro pockets to the movies.
No one would suspect a thing, would they?

Survival camp

Marc and I are nearly fully recovered and it's only been three weeks since we came back from California with some version of the plague.
(We can't really call it the plague. The doctors ruled out the flu and we don't have a definitive diagnosis. I'm just calling it Travelitis to the third degree.)
We have been miserable and nothing except time and cussing seemed to help.
Marc was congested and wheezing.
I had a headache, a cough and a general sense of complete hopelessness.
Neither of us had an appetite or the will to live.
By the time we went to the urgent care clinic, we were marginally better but still pretty discouraged.
Now that I'm upright again and feeling stronger I have made a short list of resolutions so as to avoid such situations in the future.
1. Never go anywhere on a plane. There is evidence that planes are full of germs just whirling around and around.
2. Never eat in a fast food or restaurant-style establishment. You don't know how the food is prepared and if you lay your fork on the counter, the germs jump on.
3. Never use a public restroom at the circus. The customers coming and going (no pun intended here) aren't taking the proper sanitary measures and the unisex/open sink facilities are basically giant petri dishes.
4. Never talk to anybody else anywhere. Who knows where they've been?
5. Never assume anything's clean; the hotel sheets, the pillows, the couch, the bathtub, the keys on the computer where you go to get your boarding passes.
Actually, nothing nowhere is safe.
As I reviewed where we went and what we did, I tried to come up a common denominator that explained our getting sick.
Was it the fork I returned in the restaurant that still had food on it?
Was it the pocket full of trash left in the airplane seat as the workers hurried to ready it for the next batch of people?
Was it the guy snuffling in the pharmacy where I went to refill my insulin prescription?
Was it my imagination?
Were we just extraordinarily lucky?
Whatever the cause, I'm perplexed as we move ahead now. We have several other big trips lined up and I never want to feel that badly again.
I guess a face mask and a protective suit is the answer.
Or fly solo in my own plane with a personal chef.
And never mingle.

Unexpected beauty and wonder

It wasn't just the parking fee ($25!!?) that surprised us when we headed into the Dodger Stadium to see a Cirque du Soleil show.
We didn't know how there could be a Cirque du Soleil show in a stadium. We didn't know whether to dress for an outdoor performance or what.
We hadn't heard much about "Luzia" although we had been to a couple of Cirque du Soleil shows before, one about bugs and another with huge moving walls and floors and acrobats who could do just about anything.
We had a free night in Los Angeles so we sprung for the tickets. We figure what was there to lose?
So we walked in pretty much unprepared for the beauty, the beat, the spectacular costuming, the singing, the acrobatics and the clever staging.
We were blown away by the talent and the showmanship.

The galloping silver stallion gives you the first clue that this is going to be magical, followed in the show by the metal tiger and his various jungle friends.
Then you are swallowed up into a world that's frankly unbelievable...from the lady acrobats being tossed from ramp to ramp, the guy who can twist himself into a pretzel and the waterfalls that literally come out of the ceiling.
It's mesmerizing and dazzling and besides that, it's sheer fun to watch.
By the time it was over, we had become fans and we almost forgave them the outrageous parking price.
Almost.