Jet-lagged Butterfly packs (Street) Parade parking ticket
I hope that this note finds you healthy and happy. Nazy and I have concluded that travel from California to Europe is especially good at...
“... screwing up biological clocks,” I explained.
“You have jet lag?”
“Jet lag makes it sound mundane, Nazy. A malfunctioning biological clock makes sleep, at the right times, impossible.”
“Right times?”
“Night times, my dear.”
“Don’t fall asleep while you’re talking to me.”
“Of course n....zzzzz,”
In truth, the ‘flying’ part of the trip was amazingly comfortable. As noted last week, Melika and Tom returned to Santa Barbara just in time to say...
“Goodbye, Dad. Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for letting us use your house,” I replied. “And Porsche,” I thought.
Melika had to catch up at her office, so Nazy, Darius and I went to the Santa Barbara Museum of Natural Science - which had a special exhibit of live butterflies. It was a really nice museum. (I liked the butterflies more than the animatronic dinosaur because I was sure that the dinosaur was looking at me.)
Our plan was to leave Santa Barbara early so that we would have plenty of time for a lunch with Mitra and Darius in Los Angeles...
“Our plan, Dan?” Nazy asked.
“My plan, dear.”
... but someone(s) threw a spanner in the works. Nazy complained that it would be impossible to get up at 6:00AM. Darius said that we’d hit traffic in Los Angeles, Mitra said that we would arrive..
“...too early for lunch, Dad.”
“Too early? Has that ever happened? Ever?”
“Your departure time is unreasonable.”
“It’s a target that I need to stick to in order for us to arrive in LA before dinner.”
“Ah, so you don’t really expect to..”
“Precisely”
We returned from a late dinner with Melika and Tom the day before our departure.
“Luckily,” Nazy said, “I’ve already packed.”
“Really?” I replied. “Why are three suitcases empty? And what’s that pile of..”
“I can sweep everything into the suitcase tomorrow morning. It won’t take 10 minutes.”
“That assertion warrants my complete agreement.” I replied.
“And Mitra says we should leave later. Let’s sleep late.”
“There is no doubt that we’ll leave later - and be late.”
“Would you like to pack?”
“Will you blame me if I forget something?”
“Of course.”
“In that case, you can pack.”
“Then let’s sleep later tomorrow.”
“Yes dear.”
Nazy began the ‘final’ packing steps the next morning. Wisely, Melika planned a late breakfast. I watched the overnight highlights from the Olympics while Nazy moved from ‘assemble’ to ‘sort’ mode. I checked my email and read the mathematical proofs associated with Darius’ economics paper. Nazy told me put a load into the washing machine. In response to what was apparently an ill-disguised glare, she moved to explanatory mode.
“I’m done.”
“I think these are your clothes that I’m taking to the laundry.”
“Right.”
“Then you’re not done.”
“I am finishing up with the cosmetics while I wait for the washer to..”
“What about your shoes?”
“Would you pair them and find any that are missing?”
“We never should have slept in,” I thought. “Of course,” I said. “Curiosity endured 7 minutes of terror as it plunged to Mars’ surface; I’ll endure 7 hours of terror as I wait to depart.” My thoughts continued. “By the way, Nazy, have you thought about how efficient a Pelican is at transporting things?” I said.
In time (a lot of time) we left. Contrary to expectation, we arrived at Mitra’s in-time for lunch.
“See! I told you so.” Nazy interjects.
Our lucky streak continued when I discovered that the entire street in front of Mitra’s house was ‘parking available’. For the first time in history, I parked directly in front of her gate. It was, of course, too good to be true.
“I should have told you,” Mitra commiserated. “Street Cleaning: Wednesday 9:00 to 12:00.”
“I parked at 11:51. The street was cleaned.”
“Tickets given from 9:00 to 12:00.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Darius interrupted. “If you had asked me, I would have told you.”
“Thanks,” I replied. ““Skills learned dodging parking police in Zurich aren’t transferable,” I thought.
We had a great lunch with Mitra and Darius. Then Darius drove us to the airport and helped us carry the “wonderfully packed” luggage to check-in. Our flight departed on time and after a short connection in Frankfurt, we were back at home in Switzerland. We arrived just in time for the annual Street Parade. The weather was beautiful and the costumes were out in force. It was just like the Santa Fe Fiesta - except more people, more beer and more mess.
We also watched a few days coverage of the Olympics. For some reason, the locally available BBC channels focused on Team GB - which took first place in horse dancing.
“Dressage, Dan.” Nazy claims.
As a friend from London explained, Team GB did really, really well. (Third place overall, their best since the 20’s.) The particularly excelled at sports played while sitting down: cycling, rowing, horseback riding, sailing.
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