Travelling in Cars with Marines

We just got back from vacation in the Sunshine State.  OK, truth be told, I took a week off to unpack the rest of the boxes here, and then had a colonoscopy. There, I said it.  But if you haven't been screened, do.  And then follow up the scope with a nice trip to the beach.

We had a lovely condo overlooking the beach.  I have to agree with the person whose guestbook entry read something to the effect of "our 17yo daughter walked in and said 'my life just got sooo much better.'"  Cause yeah, it is that amazing of a place.  We had crashing waves 24/7, right outside our window.  Talk about good sleep...........I had the nuttiest of nutty dreams all week, and I loved it.

Here is what our days consisted of:
1.  Get up and watch the sun rise on the left.  Possibly go back to bed.
2.  Watch the dolphins move from east to west in front of the balcony.  Possibly go back to bed again.
3.  Eat breakfast, complete with wonderful coffee, custom made by my private chef.
4.  Spend most of the morning trying to decide how to spend the day.
5.  End up on beach chair under an umbrella, with a cooler and a good book.
6.  Go back to room and assess the damage.
7.  Take a nap.
8.  Decide where dinner will be.
9.  Dinner.  Sadly, no good seafood was to be found.  Sadness.
10.  Back to condo, where he watched TV and I read till sleep took over.
::and repeat::

Happily, we got to see the Bratty Gurl and The Intended several times.  They took advantage of our cable to watch Walking Dead one night because yes, when you haven't seen your mom for two months, the first thing you want to do is figure out how to steal the remote.  That's my girl.  And after a blissful nine days, we headed home again.

Somewhere in Alabama, we listened to 93.3 Y'ALL, a radio station with the tag line "we're a hot mess."  And they really are:  Hank Williams followed by Guns N Roses, then One Direction followed by Sam Cooke........you get the idea.  Totally bonkers.  Of course then we passed the sign that said "Go To Church or The Devil Will Get You," replendent with a big red Satan on it.  Good stuff.  Somewhere a bit further north, my brain exploded when I heard "Lisa Mitchell plays the most music on" whatever random station the radio was on.  (Yes, I left my iPod at home, much to Jim's consternation.  Somewhere in southern Tennessee he said quite emphatically "I wish you'd brought your iPad (sic).  I want to hear some Gaga."  Can't help lovin that man 'o mine.......  Alas, without the Nano to entertain him, he was left to his own devices.  And this man is never bored.

Now let me tell you, my boo is an interesting one to ride in the car with.  Our trips generally start with him putting on his seat belt while telling me not to kill him.  Of course, my driving hasn't killed anyone yet, but I guess he figures that the admonishment will keep the phone poles at bay.  Once we start down the street, he starts narrating.  It goes like this:  "oh look, there's a UPS Store......CVS....China Buffet right next to Chik-fil-A..." and so on.  FOR MILES.  It's a good thing I worked in the nursery for so many years, cause girlfriend can tune out just about anything.  That being said, somewhere in Tennessee, the drivers lost their minds, driving by us like the Millenium Falcon at warp speed.  That was about the time my boo began his impression of Darryn McGavin in "A Christmas Story."

"Oh look, that tree is pretty, but where are the flaming red maples.  HOLY $#@&!  What was that guy doing?  Driving like a #$**!!  Oh look, there's a gas station at this next exit.  Do we need gas?  OMG LOOK OUT that &#@) is driving right up you @#*!  Oh look, there's a water wheel....."  Yep. Sometimes the Marine comes out with very little warning.  Loudly.  And since I can't get the man to relax and let me do the driving, and God knows he can't go to sleep -- he might miss a Stuckey's sign -- I just laugh. It's pretty entertaining if you just roll with it, and God knows it's better than the days of travelling with an infant with an ear infection, or a toddler with motion sickness.  It's really funny to see what will fly out of his mouth next, Goofus, Gallant, or Gunnery Sergeant Hartman.  I did, however, draw the line as we got closer to Nashville, telling him quite sternly that he could not A) narrate or B) shout in consternation as I drove through the city, or we truly MIGHT both die.

It was at that point that I realized that his pre-travel command to not kill him might, in fact, be serious, because the man became silent as a tomb. Even past several billboards featuring Carrie Underwood in a corset.  As in, not one decibel.  For miles.  Through construction, detours, and past several police officers at the ready.  Boyfriend SHUT. IT.DOWN.  Until he saw the next Cracker Barrel sign, at which point it was on like Donkey Kong.  And he narrated the entire way back home to Indiana.

So now we are home again, and intend to stay so until after the wedding.  And that's all I've got to say abou that.

Randomly heard in the car

Let's set up the scene first:

We were in Florida. We'd visit Dan's family in Daytona for a couple of days after taking a cruise to Jamaica. We were flying home out of Ft. Lauderdale, where the rental car had to be returned by 9:38am. 9:38am. And Ft Lauderdale airport was basically 4 hours away. Meaning we had to be up and out the door by about 5:30am. With two teenagers and a twenty year old. Sure. No problem, mon.

The night before, I mentioned to Dan about the idiot who decided to try to blow up his underwear, and a whole Airbus full of people, in Detroit. Detroit happened to be where our layover was going to be, so I had some concerns about what travel would be like the next day. Now let me tell you, I fly with Xanax on board, but I don't have enough to share with cranky teenagers, so I had a legitimate concern. Dan was worried about the weather on Sunday, which was our day to fly out. This was how we made the executive decision to go home a day early.

Dan insisted that getting up at 5:45 was going to be plenty early, so I set his cell phone alarm for 5:15 and when it went off, made him get up and at 'em. I had suggested to the boys, only half joking, that they sleep in the van the night before, but alas, they were on the couch, head to head. Woke 'em up, then went and woke up Jill. There was much unintelligible speech. I actually believe that the only thing I understood was the fact that Thomas couldn't find his phone. Oye and vay.

"You had it last."
"No, you probably lost it."
"Actually, I had it last, but it's been moved from where I left it."
"I don't know why you people can't give me my stuff back after you borrow it. I need my phone."
"Well where did you leave it?"
"I didn't have it last."
"You had it last....."

See where this is going? In the midst of this, another conversation starts.
"It's cold out there. Can I take a blanket?"
"No, share your brother's."
"I don't want HIS blanket. I want a blanket of my own."
"What are you going to do with a blanket at the airport? We already have one to deal with. Just dress warm."
"Can I take a pillow?"
"NO."
"I don't know how you think I'm going to be able to sleep when it's this cold out and I don't have a blanket or a pillow."
"I'll turn the heat on in the car, dear."
SILENCE
DOOR SLAMS
"I still haven't found my phone."
"Why doesn't someone CALL your phone?"
::vibrate vibrate vibrate::
"I think it's in the couch."
::triumphant look from owner of the phone::
::triumphant look disappears when he realizes that the phone has fallen into the couch, right where he was sleeping:: It's hell taking responsibility for something you've been blaming other people for. We headed out to the van.

It was still dark out, so the kids knocked right back out. After an hour or so, Dan decided to call Northwest to see if we could, indeed, get a flight out when we arrived. Now let me say, Dan is from the land of Speak Loudly on the Phone. This is something he inherited from his dad, and who knows, maybe his dad's dad, but Utter men are LOUD on the phone. Heck, they are loud when NOT on the phone. In either event, he started talking to Northwest, and the boys woke up. Here's what ensued:

"Yes, my name is Mr. Utter. We have reservations to fly out on Sunday, but I wanted to see if we could leave today, as we have a medical emergency at home."

From the far left back seat, in a very shrill voice: "I'm bleeeeeding...."
Deep voice from the far right back seat replies "I'm dyyyyiinnng...."
Near back seat yells "SHUT UP OR I WILL KILL YOU ALL."

"Well, I can't afford $1000 extra to change these tickets. I thought we were on the list of states that can change our itinerary for free, due to the weather."

Far back left seat yells "I want $1000."
Far back right seat replies "You already GOT $1000 that you didn't deserve."
Near back seat bellows "Shut UP."

"I don't think we can make the 11am flight. That's probably cutting it too close."

Far back left seat says "Is it weird that I am most excited about getting home to see my dog?"
Near back seat says "I don't want to go home early. Why are we going home early?"
Far back right seat replies "we have a medical emergency. Dundundun...."
Near back seat: "what the hell?"
I say very little, as I am both laughing through the entire exchange, and mystified as to why he feels we have to have a medical emergency in order to get home. We usually create them without any problems. I don't tempt fate by making them up.

Dan finally got the tickets changed, and no, it didn't cost $1000. We got it done for free. He announced that we're leaving at 3pm.

Female voice says "are the seats together? I don't want to sit next to some creeper. I know that we're gonna end up separated, and I'm gonna be the one next to a creeper."
Far back seat says "I just want a window seat. I've never gotten one."
Far back seat now is snoring.

Dan asks if anyone wants cereal. It gets very quiet. Turned out he had brought a box of Honey Bunches of Oats, a box of Frosted Flakes, some Pop Tarts, and a gallon of milk was chilling in a paint bucket full of ice. The boys decline, which confuses Dan, as he is also from the land of Eats-a-lot. Jill went back to sleep. Every few minutes, Dan asked the boys if they want some cereal, but it had quiet back there too, so he didn't get a response. He kept asking me too, though I have no idea how I could've eaten cereal whilst driving, even if I had wanted it. Dan even offered to feed me, but after I told him that I was sure to vomit if I ate Frosted Flakes, he finally gave up trying and fixed himself a bowl. And a Poptart.

Pretty soon, Seth started writhing around in the far back seat. Jill, who had been collapsed on the seat behind me, sat up, looking rather dazed. Seth said "I'm so uncomfortable. I hate this. I need to move and I can't." "Why can't you move?" "Thomas has his head on me."
Apparently, Thomas had keeled over and was sleeping basically with his head in Seth's lap, which is a direct violation of the Bro Code. I guess even Jill knew this, because she immediately offered Seth to move up with her. At which point I almost dropped dead of shock, as Jill has personal space issues, and doesn't usually like anyone piercing her bubble. "You want some cereal," said Dan, for the 56th time. Seth just shook his head, but Jill took him up on it, but only after announcing "I don't remember getting in the car."

So yeah, this is how we roll. With cereal, non-existent medical emergencies, and milk in a paint bucket. And just in case you haven't figured it out by now, we've got issues.

Weird moments in music

Music plays a big part in our life, here in the Utter household. It started for me very young, since my parents love music of all kinds, from the unforgettable
Mrs Miller (scroll down for the song files), to The Sound of Music soundtrack, which we sang incessantly as kids. I remember many drives to St Louis in our old green Ranch Wagon station wagon, listening to Donna Fargo, singing "The Happiest Girl in the Whole U.S.A.," which my sister still sings, complete with the twang, at the drop of hat.

Memories are made of this.

We've got our own, albeit strange, moments in music, usually in the car, too. Like the time we all went to hear Jill sing with the Indianapolis Children's Choir. It was a Christmas Concert, and afterward, we decided to drive down to the Circle downtown, to see the lights. We ended up somehow with K.C. and the Sunshine Band on the CD player, and drove around the circle I can't tell you how many times, windows down, with all of us singing classics like "That's the Way I like It," and "Get Down Tonight." The kids still talk about that one. It was definitely something to go from the formal concert to disco beats, all while Jill was still in uniform.

We got a lot of strange looks, but we're used to that around here.

One time here at the house, Thomas and I were both on our computers, doing our thing. He was probably about 12 or so, and I realized that he was listening to Frank Sinatra sing "Fly Me To the Moon," or something like that. I commented, "is that Frank Sinatra," and was met with a snarling "WHY does everyone think it's weird that I like Frank Sinatra" followed by glaring silence.

It wouldn't have been weird at all, except the previous two songs had been Metallica and Mindless Self Indulgence.

Then there was the time that he and I drove back from his cousin's wedding, and listened to Lillium, the theme from Elfen Lied, continously, for the two hour trip from Terre Haute to Indianapolis. It's singularly one of the most hauntingly beautiful pieces of music ever, in my opinion, and I think Thomas agrees, to the tune of him listening to it repeatedly for five hours straight one night. Be careful, it's addictive.

Of course, five hours doesn't compare to the time that Dan and I went to see my parents in Winter Park, when we all lived in Florida. We tuned to a station that was playing "Twist and Shout," by the Beatles. Over and over. And over. They played it back to back and, as far as we could tell, without commercial interruption for at least two days straight. We never figured out what that was about, but it definitely elicits a memory every time I hear the song now.

Nowadays, Thomas has something like 3000 songs on his iPod, which he shares with me on the ride to and from school. He's got a little bit of everything in here, except country, because he likes just about any type of music except the twangy stuff. Me, I travel in silence generally, if I'm by myself, but if he's with me, it's Radiohead and Ludo. If it's Jill, it's Jonas Brothers, AC/DC, and the soundtrack from the Patriot (yeah, she's into an eclectic mix of music too), and with Seth, it's usually techno beats. Dan's tendency is toward R.E.M. and the Police, with a side of football commentating.

Me, I have a thing for leaving the same CD in the car for weeks at a time, listening to it over and over, which drives The Brat crazy. One that tends to land there for a season is Nirvana's Unplugged, because I love "The Man Who Sold the World." One time, Thomas' buddy Potter climbed in the van and said, "man, I wish that just once my parents would listen to Nirvana in the car." When I asked him what they listened to, he said "my dad listens to African drum music, and my mom listens to NPR."

Yeah, I guess Nirvana would be a welcome change.

And so, after a long discussion about Radiohead on the way back to school last night, then pulling in the driveway to Miley Cyrus, I went looking for something with a musical bent, and found this vintage poly novelty musical notes print. Wonder what the music on it is? Maybe "Smells Like Teen Spirit?" It'd make me the happiest girl in the whole U.S.A. if you can tell me. It's on ebay, offered by anythingbutlove.