24-Hours of "Seriously?"

I set off this afternoon on a trip to Austin to be with my dad during his heart surgery. Since the pod racer (as we’ve affectionately named my 2002 Explorer, due to – you guessed it – the way it now sounds when you start it) wouldn’t successfully make the trip down south I had to rent a car. I get to the rental agency, housed in the dealership where I’m sure the pod racer yearned to take a brief spa treatment while I was out of town, and they tell me I’ll be driving a 2010 Ford Escape. Cool! Seriously...it was (as Ben put it) 'pimped-out'. (Yes...I did tell him a better phrase to use is 'tricked out'.)

Anyway...D asks the guy if it has Sync. The rep answers…and I kid you not, “Ummm…noooooo. No place to wash your hands.” :::seriously?::: Even I knew D wasn’t asking about a SINK. “Oh! You mean that system ‘Sync’…ummmm…I don’t know…” asks the guy next to him. He answers it does and that it is actually a pretty nice little car. Sync system, leather, Sirius Radio, heated seats (thank you very much ‘cuz it’s plumb freezing out there). D gets in, syncs my iPhone to the car, calls me to make sure it works (it does, though not loud enough for either of us and I couldn’t find the speaker to talk into), shows me how to tune Sirius satellite radio, look for CoffeeHouse, can’t find it, so I’m off… .

About an hour down the road, I finally find CoffeeHouse (yea!) and start looking around at all the little bells and whistles in this ride. For instance, did you know if you repeatedly push the little button on the gear shift because you stem like a bored monkey when driving alone with no one to talk to, it changes some gears on the car? Then tells you to stop it? Sorry Escape. Pod racer doesn’t have that little button.

Also, if you feel like you are sitting up too high and change it…it changes it abruptly and you recline into the back seat leaving the view of the highway now nonexistent? And, did you further know your right arm goes numb as you lean forward to reach for the dial that changes the Sirius Radio because the person who rented the car before you has programmed the memory buttons on the steering wheel to all Spanish stations on Sirius? No…didn’t think you did. It sounds like I’m griping about this car, but I don’t mean to. It was actually an awesome ride. For instance, at night…the lights are this cool lavender color (which I later found out you can change the colors). Even around the cup holders. So my water bottle glowed, as did many other instruments on the dashboard, as if I were on the space shuttle. All-in-all…loved it and it zoomed down the highway. Had to put it on cruise as I repeatedly looked down and was going 80+ mph. Oops.

Of course, these aren’t the only things I’ve found out in the last six or so hours. Since my dad is having surgery tomorrow, he got to pick the place we ate tonight. Which happened to be the same place he ate lunch today and possibly even yesterday. Because when he’s in Austin, he is *going* to eat at Matt’s El Rancho. When I was a kid and we went to visit my grandmother in San Antonio, we would always stop at Matt’s either on the way there or on the way back and sometimes both. I walked in and was like, “Wait…is this the same place we used to come on the way to San Antonio?” and he excitedly replies, “Yep! Same one! Been here since ’52.” Hmmmm… I must add: It really IS good. Though don't plan on the salsa taste leaving your mouth for at least 40 hours or so.

Regardless, my dad orders the green chili enchiladas and frankly, I don’t think I remember my dad ever having ordered green chili enchiladas before and I’ve eaten Mexican food with this man hundreds, if not thousands, of times. Regardless…he wanted it and he ordered it. He takes one bite and says, “Well…they’re okay, but not as good as they make in New Mexico.” And I think to myself, ‘When has he been to New Mexico lately?’ and the meal continues and later Sue asks me how my tortilla soup is and I say great. She then turns to dad’s nearly perfectly clean plate and asks him how his was. His reply…again, “Okay. But not near as good as they make in New Mexico.” So I ask, “Dad…when did you go to New Mexico?” and he says, “Oh….it had to be…let’s see…19……1959.” Seriously? “You’re comparing them to enchiladas you had over 50 years ago?” and he says, “Yes! You don’t know! They’re that good! They layer them. They don’t roll them.”

Okay, Okay…

On a two final notes tonight from my trip South…thanks to the hotel and medical center who offer a nice little place to stay for the patients and their families having surgery. One tiny comment…the Barbie-sized Styrofoam cups don’t hold the King Kong-sized ice cubes at the refreshment station. Otherwise…it was all good.

And to the guest staying at the hotel with unauthorized wireless network named “penisface”…thanks for the laugh. I’m now going to push a table and wheel chair conveniently stored in my room in front of my door now and double-lock it. ‘Cuz…:::ewwwwwwwww:::

SERIOUSLY...