Trip down

Again, the trip down was uneventful. The trip went well until I got in the car and the GPS lady came on. You know, the pleasant one that really wasn’t so nice. The first words out the GPS were, “Just do what I say and nobody will get hurt.” I think that she knows that I blamed her for our previous off-route foray. Yes, the one I learned a bunch of new four-letter words from. Anyway, Sandi and I entered in Chuck’s address and I took off. We’ve named the GPS lady, Mavis Beacon, but she needs a proper language check.

I arrived at Chuck’s about 7:30 PM. I think that Mavis took me on a rather circuitous route. I picked up on that after crossing the American River twice and given the fact that I could swear I ended up going back and forth on the same street. The final straw was when I asked Mitch and Dick the best way to get on I5 and it wasn’t anything close to the way Mavis told me.

Chuck and Mitch are getting along pretty well. Chuck is getting making improvement daily. Dick is having Chuck take his medications on a regular basis to keep his blood pressure down,
and Chuck is giving Dick enough crap to keep his blood pressure up. So I guess it’s a symbiotic relationship. By the way if you’re thinking of getting Chuck a new calendar, don’t bother. There are quite a few calendars spread throughout his house and none of them are close to the same month, and none are on the right month.

The drive down is very long. In case that you’re shopping early for Christmas trees I saw a lot along side the freeway in Modesto. Don’t even think about stealing one though as the County Jail is right next door. Coming down the Central Valley I passed a lot of ‘Happy California Cows’ on the hillsides. The happiest ones I’m sure were the ones that were looking down on the ones in the Harris Ranch feed lots. I entered in the location when I thought I may be getting close and found that I was still 122 miles away. Imagine driving from Crescent City to Medford all the while going from 80 MPH to a dead stop in 5 lanes of traffic. Once I got stopped behind a cattle truck that had “Flirtin’ with Disaster” lettered on the back. I got around it as quick as possible. So much for LA being the ‘City of Angels.‘ I’ve been down here for 12 hours and I haven’t seen an angel yet. Nope, not even a cherub! Why can’t they be neighborly if I choose to drive 40 MPH in a 70 MPH zone? (Not really, I just made that up. I drive 50 MPH). I can confirm that either it’s really smoggy down here or the windshield wipers are possessed. They came on under a smoggy sky with not a raindrop in sight.

Gotta go to my first treatment.