Mother and Daughter. A bond as sacred as that between husband and wife, pitcher and catcher, Dan and Keith on SportsCenter. A richly evocative phrase, conjuring images of love, loyalty, friendship, and Don Knotts. Man, I love Don Knotts. He's one funny dude. Remember when he was on "Three's Company?" That was some funny stuff.
NOTE TO WRITERS -- That last paragraph did not really exhibit what Strunk and White might call a "butter-smooth transition." In fact, we pretty much dropped our literary transmission in that sucker, shifting without a textual clutch, as we did. Emulate this style at your own peril and risk of others' scorn.
Where were we? Mothers and Daughers. Sacred bonds. And one nervous Kristanne eager to see her mother for the first time since our engagement. There were hugs to be hugged and plans to be planned. But first, there were nails to be done. Notice the calm air Kristanne evinces there at the top? No nerves nope, no way, nosirree. Everything is cool, baby. Of course, I'm not showing the second picture where she drew blood from her cuticles. Don't want to offend anyone's gentle sensibilities, after all.
After a relaxing morning of coffee and conversation, the drive from the Sierra to San Francisco
commences. Pretenses of calmness were rapidly fraying as Kristanne pushed
Otto to speeds that would make Ralph Nader put the hammer down in a Corvair
just so he could shake a finger at her. It was tense, man. Me, I was bouncing
around in the back of the van as Kristanne dodged Pintos, potholes, and pedestrians
with surprising aplomb, given her slightly manic disposition.
After what might be a land speed record for the Sierra-to-San Francisco run, we smoked into the Inner Sunset where Kristanne's brother Vince and his girlfriend Jen live. Not uncoincidentally, Kristanne's parents, Calvin and Rosalie, we're also staying there. I last saw Kristanne as she parked Otto and disappeared into a group hug that resembled one of those rolling dustbunnies of a fight like you see in animated cartoons. Here a limb, there a limb, but nary a whole body for what seemed to be a full five minutes. Finally, a referee appeared from nowhere, blew his whistle, and assessed an "Excessive Celebration" penalty on the entire Bohner family. They were forced to abstain from wedding planning for a full five minutes of enforced no-contact. It was a fair penalty, all things considered.
Anyway, after a lot of hugging and laughing, it was time for mother and daughter to dispense with formalities and mainline on a wedding planning binge. A half-rack of Diet Coke was laid in, along with two dozen mallomars and all the bride magazines they could gather from a scouring of the Greater Bay Area. U-Haul trucks were rented, china patterns discussed, and invitation ideas discarded. A mild hysteria ensued when they realized they hadn't decided on a band for the reception, yet, and it was already after 8:00 PM. It was at that point they remembered that the wedding wasn't actually scheduled for another 15 months. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure we were heading off to the Tenderloin to scrape up whatever blues band could be had for two bourbons and a pat on the back. "'Little Orville and the Phlegm-cats?' Sign 'em up!"
In any case, order was restored and we sat down to eat a nice meal together and catch up on what was happening in all our lives. We even got the Extreme Shot of the Day as I sent up the website from the Bohner condo hallway. Yup, even as the confirmed future in-law, I still don't rate a desk. The ACLU will be hearing about this, mark my words.
Join us tomorrow for weird scenes from inside the workplace. See you then!
Total Miles for 6/23 = 151