Apparently Rand McNally road atlases (atlii?) are like gold. I irritated Calvin one weekend in early April by making him stop at the book store (I know, the HORRAH) so I could pop in “real quick” and pick up a copy. Except, they were all out. So, I ordered one from Amazon on 4/6. I waited, I checked the status, I waited some more. Finally, after three weeks of being backordered, I canceled the order on 4/26, and on that same day placed an order directly with Rand McNally. The order confirmation told me that it would ship in 24-48 hours. I waited until the end of the week (5/1 for those of you playing at home), and, still not seeing it arrive in my mailbox, I called Rand McNally for a status. They said they were all out of the 2009 printing, and so they’d be sending me a 2010 issue, which would be shipping out that day.
As of this morning still no book ‘o maps, so I called Rand McNally’s customer service AGAIN, and they said it was shipping today for delivery on Friday. We shall see, my pets. Those of you inclined to hold your breath, I would strongly advise against such activity.
On a related note, do you know how hard it is to plan a road trip of multi-state proportions WITHOUT a road atlas? Google Maps and Mapquest sure are cumbersome to use when the destination is more than, like, fifty miles away. They really only like there-and-back directions, and they don’t allow very conveniently for multi-state, circuitous-route travel. Me, I’m a big picture kind of girl, and, well, I’d like to see the big pictures of mappy goodness laid before me so I can plan my route. Right now, according to our plans, we’re still stuck in Cody, Wyoming. That’s where my planning stalled, in need of maps! Mama needs her maps! Gimme mah maps!
Okay, I’m a freak. Moving on.
Last Saturday night Calvin and I were hanging around the house, watching movies. At about 9:00, he got up for a trip to the fridge, and asked me if I wanted anything. I said, “Yeah, a strawberry sundae from Dairy Queen.” He said, teasing, “Feh, you don’t need ice cream.” I agreed, and went about watching the movie. Five minutes later, Calvin said, “You know? A banana split sounds really good right now.” So I said, “Feh, you don’t need ice cream.” He made a face at me, and five minutes later we were in the truck, in our jammies, on our way to the Dairy Queen drive-through.
It was a beautiful night, so we rolled down all the windows (aside: nobody has window cranks anymore, why do we still say we “roll” them down?) and blasted the tunes. Ice cream successfully secured and in our possession, we rolled out of the drive and came to a stop at the light at the intersection.
The Bee Gee’s “Stayin’ Alive” came on just as a man started to cross through the crosswalk. As he walked, his step came more and more in sync with the music, until he was in perfect time.
“Well you can tell by the way I use my walk…” stride stride stride stride… all the way across the intersection and down the sidewalk, for as long as we sat there. I don’t think he even realized he was doing it, but it sure did crack us the hell up.
I understand it completely, though. YOU try to walk along to that song without stepping in time to it. I mean, hell, the Bee Gees themselves couldn’t stop it. Neither could John Travolta.