Friday, 8 June, Tallahassee to Paris

Written 8 June 2018

We don't actually leave for the airport until 5 p.m. but the day has already been busy. I've returned all our library books (both public and WO), prepped the house for our annual window cleaning and annual baseboard/ceiling fan/porch cleaning (both of which will probably happen while we're gone), prepped the house for today's visit from our regular housekeeper (who will be here for two hours in the middle of the afternoon, right when we're doing our final packing), and done the accumulated laundry.

Then David and I strolled over to the parking lot behind the McGuire Center. Today, Westminster Oaks is hosting a smallish antique car show, and for the occasion they brought in carts dispensing hot dogs (and soft drinks and chips), snow cones, and popcorn to all comers—residents, staff, families, and antique car folks. The call went out a few days ago for volunteers to help escort all the folks in wheelchairs from the Health Center (the WO term for the nursing-home wing). Long tables were set up in the shade, and a couple of them were left without chairs, so that the wheelchairs could just be wheeled up to them. We didn't step up this time, as we didn't know how long we'd be able to stay because of our travel plans.

The cars were parked out in the sun, so we started by touring the first 12 (about half of the total), then retired to the shade for our hot dogs, chips, etc. The lady ahead of me got the last root beer, so I settled for a ginger ale, but I was delighted to find that the chip choices included crunchy Cheetos (a not exactly guilty pleasure of mine, but one I feel rather silly for being so fond of). To go on the hot dogs, they provided four kinds of mustard, ketchup, several kinds of hot sauce, chopped onions, three kinds of pickles, plus sweet pickle relish, and sauerkraut. But I like coleslaw on my hotdogs, and knowing how often it is omitted from the condiment table, I had brought my own, stashed in my purse, with its own little serving spork, so I and my nextdoor neighbor (also a slaw-dog fan) were able to dress our dogs properly.

After the hot dogs, I hit the snow-cone cart (David declined with a shudder) and sipped and crunched my way through my cone as we studied the remaining cars. Because I chose blue raspberry, I'll be heading off to France with a blue tongue and blue-stained fingers—the stuff doesn't wash off. I'd have gone for popcorn too (it smelled delicious), but my dentists (both the old one and the new one) have threatened me with dire oral consequences if I persist in eating it. They warn against crunching ice, too, but I do it very rarely, and the snow-cone ice was very tender.

The oldest car was a 1933 Dodge, and the newest (that was labeled with date) a 2008. My favorites were a BMW motorcycle with sidecar and a sprawling white Edsel convertible (the only car there designated a "survivor," i.e., as having at least 50% original parts). The motorcycle sidecar was impressively large and featured a glass or plex hood that closed down over the seated rider, with just an oval opening for the rider's head and torso. Behind the rider, it had quite a capacious luggage compartment.

Lots of residents were speaking favorably of the old Studebaker (several of them apparently drove one like it back in the day; my Aunt Alice had one, I remember), and I was impressed with a V-8 with a hood that seemed to go on forever. Unfortunately, some of the drivers were apparently just on their lunch breaks, arriving late and leaving early, so the Studebaker left before I got a close look at it, but we did see the Shelby Cobra before it had to go. We even ran into a guy who had been an Oceanography grad student early in our Tallahassee days and who recognized David. The old student's late parents were WO residents, and he was here today with his inlaws.

Written 11 June 2018

WO Driver Ken showed up in the van right on time to take us to the airport, where we had quite a satisfactory supper of a brisket plate for me and a fat reuben for David. Our flight out was slightly delayed, but it caused no problem. Our arrival gate was right next to the transportation mall, a train opened its doors as we approached and whisked us two concourses down, and our departure gate was the one nearest the transportation mall at the other end, so our 1-hour layover was ample for our connection.

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