UPDATE: The president's speech was magnificent. Still, I found the cheering throughout the event to be a bit distasteful. I hope the families found some comfort in the president's stirring words.
So far, it seems more like a pep rally instead of a memorial. I was expecting a somber and respectful event.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Dead Birds
Jimbo says not to worry about all those dead birds in the news, and I think we can trust him.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Americans in Honduras Won't Shut Up
I just returned from a holiday in Honduras. We encountered many ex pats there, all very nice and all very eager to talk the ears off of visiting Americans. The LTR and I have been studying Spanish for the last four months and we found that with our limited abilities we were much farther ahead than the Americans who live there. So I guess they were just eager for people to talk to.
But it started before we even set foot in Spanish-speaking Central America. Boarding our flight at Dulles, I had the aisle and the LTR took the center seat next to an elderly white-haired gentleman with the window seat.
The wheels hadn't left the runway before he started telling us about himself. It was charming at first, an Episcopal Priest, he. Traveled to Central America a lot. Drove there from here, in fact. His son is in the foreign service in Honduras. But after about an hour it became tedious. I began to feel like the unfortunate woman sitting next to Ted Stryker and wished I had packed a rope in my carry-on.
But the kicker was about two hours in when he elbowed the LTR out of a dead sleep to say we were over the Gulf of Mexico (we weren't). And then he pronounced we were flying over New Orleans (it wasn't). There's Cuba (nope). La Ceiba (our destination in Honduras) is on a flat coastal plain (it's mountainous). His error-filled travelogue prompted us to give him a nickname: Father Geography.
We think he was a bit touched, as they used to say. He was the first of several interesting characters and places we would encounter on our journey. I hope to have time to write more about it.
But it started before we even set foot in Spanish-speaking Central America. Boarding our flight at Dulles, I had the aisle and the LTR took the center seat next to an elderly white-haired gentleman with the window seat.
The wheels hadn't left the runway before he started telling us about himself. It was charming at first, an Episcopal Priest, he. Traveled to Central America a lot. Drove there from here, in fact. His son is in the foreign service in Honduras. But after about an hour it became tedious. I began to feel like the unfortunate woman sitting next to Ted Stryker and wished I had packed a rope in my carry-on.
But the kicker was about two hours in when he elbowed the LTR out of a dead sleep to say we were over the Gulf of Mexico (we weren't). And then he pronounced we were flying over New Orleans (it wasn't). There's Cuba (nope). La Ceiba (our destination in Honduras) is on a flat coastal plain (it's mountainous). His error-filled travelogue prompted us to give him a nickname: Father Geography.
We think he was a bit touched, as they used to say. He was the first of several interesting characters and places we would encounter on our journey. I hope to have time to write more about it.
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