East Coast Holiday Adventure

Getting through the holidays under the best circumstances is often a trial in itself, but leading up to this particular trip I was anticipating a Home Alone style fiasco, although who was about to be left behind was anyones guess.  Instead of finishing the semester and blasting off for a holiday without Grandma, we blasted off for a holiday together.  Rather than rant and rave about how she drives me crazy and demonstrating my obvious need for a break I'll simply share with you a few tidbits about the experience of traveling and partying with Grandma.  Merry Christmas.  Happy New Year.  You're Welcome.


Preparation for this trip was off the hook.  I've never seen so much anxiety about traveling before.  There were, admittedly, many different things to worry about, but good lord!  She was packed WAY in advance, she had me running around making candied pecans in enormous batches and packing THOSE (cause they're vitally important, obviously) and she was dressed and ready to be out the door three hours ahead of time.   It was like a kid headed off to sleep-away summer camp, or Disneyworld.


Grandma, like many women of a certain generation, owns several fur coats.  When choosing which to bring she naturally chose the largest, most ostentatious fur in her collection.  Ignoring the ethical implications of fur, fur coats, and animal rights for the moment, I'd just like to speak up for the rights of granddaughters everywhere and say that these coats are fucking HEAVY!  Fur coats aren't warm and cozy cause they're made of animal hide, they're warm and cozy cause they're big damn coats, just like EVERY big damn coat out there that provides warmth and coze!!!  And I can't help but think that if you're frail and dainty and have trouble moving anyway one of the worst possible things you can do for your mobility is to add unwieldy poundage.  That said, when you have airline personnel pushing you in a wheelchair and a pack-mule- erm.. granddaughter, carrying all your stuff, I guess it hardly matters.  She had her hair set the day before, combed out upon landing, and regally posed in her fur she looked fresh as a daisy when we were picked up.  I, on the other hand, looked as if I had run a marathon: dirty, deflated, and falling over.


During the flight, on the plane itself, Grandma was relatively subdued, but the entire plane knew she was there anyway.  Because she needed accommodation for oxygen she was seated at a window, and I was next to her, hemming her in, limiting her ability to interrogate her neighbors and frighten any babies that might be on the plane.  Her only source of amusement was the in-flight entertainment provided by the airline, and the german gentleman who had the misfortune to be seated at the end of our row and was the subject of much noisy nosy speculation which (thankfully) went unnoticed (or at least unanswered) by him.

The first in-flight show was about food, and Grandma was NOT interested.  She perked up, though, when the discovery channel logo flashed and adorable pictures of polar bears and seals and penguins came on the screen: "VOLUME!!" she yelled to the stewardess "Turn the volume up! I can't hear a darn thing!"  When I plugged her personal headphones in she commented (aloud) on everything she saw on the screen.  For example, when the polar bear was tearing apart the baby seal she squealed, and when the polar bear babies were tumbling in the tundra she cooed.  Loudly.  The rows behind us were cracking up.

She's fending for herself on the return trip, I'm in Rhode Island for a month before I head back to school. Let's hope she has understanding flight attendants, and she's seated next to somebody interesting.