Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Camper 2

"You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? Then who the hell else are you talkin' to? You talkin' to me? Well I'm the only one here. Who the f- - k do you think you're talking to?"

First of all I have to congratulate myself.
Congratulations Rick!
You see, the folks over at the AMC channel (American Movie Classics) in their infinite wisdom, broadcast the Academy Award winning film, "Forest Gump," for like 8 nights straight last week, their promos for the event going like this: "Some movies are so good you can watch them over and over again."
Now "Forest Gump" is a remarkable film, which is why I've already seen it as many times as I have. And I'll no doubt watch it again sometime. However, last week I resisted the urge and did not watch it, or even a tiny part of it, once.
So AMC suits responsible for programming over there, and the advertisers that support them, should know we don't want to watch the same freaking movie over and over again. What's the matter? Run out of American movie classics?
There was something else I wanted to mention, but I've forgotten what it was. Isn't that interesting for you to know, dear readers?
So there we were, riding along the old Golden State Freeway on our way to the Griffith Observatory, Erin, Lester, and myself in her car, minding our own business, when Erin's magic iphone rings, or vibrates, or does whatever it does to let it's owner know a message is coming through.
"It's Tianna (our lovely residence manager)," Erin said. "She says Robert's there and wants me to call."
"Yeah, right," I said. "Finished with his shower, is he?"
Instead of calling her back, Erin texted (while driving, which was probably more dangerous than calling) that she was driving and couldn't call, and that Robert knew that we would leave him if he took a shower, but decided to take one anyway. Tianna texted back that Robert was very upset, but that Erin had made the right decision.
"The amazing thing to me," I told my lovely case manager, "is that Robert would entertain for a single second that we would wait for him, when everybody else managed to be on time, washed, dressed, and ready to go. I wonder what the color of the sky is in his world (old joke from the sitcom, "Cheers").
"Robert's in Robert World," Lester agreed. Erin kept on driving.
We got off the freeway at Los Feliz, and entered Griffith Park at N. Vermont, passing the Greek Theater on our way.
"Have you ever been to the Greek Theater?" I asked Erin.
"Yes, I have," she said excited. " I went there to see Neko Case! Isn't it crazy that the Greek Theater is right in Griffith Park."
"It's just insane," I agreed. "I went there to see Jerry Lewis once."
No response whatsoever.
We arrived at the observatory, Paul ahead of us in his car. It was a nice, bright sunny day, in stark contrast to the rain we had the day before. We decided to hike up the little trail they had there, in order to commune with nature, observe the indigenous flowers of Southern California, and to waste time until the observatory opened at noon.
We also ate our PB&Js, while sitting at a picnic table, talking about when and how horses were introduced to the north American continent. I don't know why.
Lester also asked me if I thought people and dinosaurs once exited together.
"Nope," I told him.
The conversation slowly evolved into a conversation concerning evolution.
"So you believe that people evolved from other things, like monkeys?" Lester asked me.
"No. I think that we evolved from a common ancestor we shared with monkeys, or apes. Why else does every living thing on this planet share the same genetic makeup? All of these trees,shrubs, and plants you see around us reproduce using DNA, just like we do..."
Lester didn't have anything to say to that as we continued to walk on. Neither did Erin, who was noticeably silent when confronted with issues of this nature. So I changed the subject to what kind of cowboy hat she would wear when she got her new pickup truck. She perked up right away.
"I don't think I'll wear one, Rick. Maybe my cowboy boots with a dress, is as far as I'm willing to go."
I was dismissive. "Cowboys don't wear dresses!"
When the observatory finally opened we purchased tickets to the "Water is Life," show in the Samuel Oschin Planetarium. I sat between Erin and Paul and held their hand, as they were very frightened when we blasted off on our way to Mars in search of water, which is a precursor to finding life throughout the solar system. But there's not all that much water on Mars anymore, at least no free flowing water, so we zipped out to Europa, one of the moons of Saturn, where it is believed an ocean of water resides under the moon's thick crust of ice. This may be the best place to look for extraterrestrial life in our solar system, fueled by thermal vents on the ocean's floor. We also made a detour all the way out beyond Neptune, to the Kuiper Belt, and visited some comets, where all the water in the solar system may have originated.
After the show (Erin said she had trouble concentrating due to a screaming baby sitting right in front of us. Unfortunately, baby muzzling is no longer allowed in California) we walked through the rest of the observatory and enjoyed the other exhibits. We witnessed a demonstration of an actual Tesla Coil, were electricity arches magically through the air, and Erin discovered how much she would weigh if she could stand on the surface of Jupiter. Boy, is she fat!
Then we left and came back to the hotel, where Robert was waiting patiently to ambush Erin.
The next day, Friday, Erin finally got around to reading the Email I had sent her like two weeks ago, some of which contained this video, again from "Funny or Die:"
Erin liked this so much she pasted the same link on her Facebook wall, with this plea: "can someone buy him for me please? i'm going to name him Camper."
Now notice this typical feminine cry of helplessness in securing her own freaking Pygmy Jerboa mouse. Oh no, she wants someone to get it for her. Never mind that this animal is considered an endangered species, no she wants one anyway, and some dumb ass guy will probably break his neck trying to get her one.
And also notice the lack of capital letters in her message, a clear and classic indication of a deep seated hatred for dirigibles, or heavier than air vehicles in general.
Go figure.
In any case... where can I find one of these freaking mouses?

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