"Counting the Cars ... "

" ... on the New Jersey Turnpike; they've all come to look for America ... " (America, by Paul Simon)

Guess where we spent our holiday?

Really, it wasn't as bad as all day on the Turnpike and/or Garden State Parkway, just under two hours each way. Which is plenty. I just don't like going, although I'll admit this wasn't as bad as it could have been.

You see, I like the people I'm with, I like the restaurant we go to, I like the food. It's the whole experience I don't care for. Part of this, I think, is that the people in charge of the party -- the MIL and the FIL -- do not have the same sense of time that I have, because a) they just don't, and b) they are old. They are getting older faster, if you know what I mean. He doesn't hear well, which, okay, but she has a soft voice, and when she calls to him to do something it sounds kind of like tom and when he doesn't answer, she gets pissed off, and the next try is more like TOM! And he was always laid back, but now he moves so slowly that it's like he's moving backwards. To wit:

The reservation was for 3:30, which is exactly when we all got to the restaurant, all except my nephew, who had to work late and was meeting us there. He arrived at four. At which time, the ILs thought it was okay to order appetizers. We didn't even order our dinners until 4:30! Who's crazy here; is it me? You order your meal an hour after you arrive? The wait staff was totally going at our pace; they are very, very nice there and know the ILs well because they go there all the time. I felt like I was jumping out of my skin and wanted to scream "Let's move it, people!" which of course I did not. The SIL, mother of the delayed nephew, was trying to gently encourage her parents to order, but they wanted to wait for the kid. Who is a nice kid, btw, now that he's an adult and speaks to us. (He was always polite but simply never engaged in conversation from the age of ten or so.) He's a good looking boy, graduating from college in May, and is a good kid. Helped his grandfather to the men's room without being asked. (The FIL has a lot of trouble walking.)

And we get to do it all again in May, since we will be celebrating the FIL's 80th birthday. The Hubs and I will drive the FIL's sister and her husband down with us; our girls will go in their own car, as they did today.

Speaking of the Aunt and Uncle, whom I have mentioned before, the Hubs and I visited them yesterday pre-Easter (and to pick up the Easter Pie, a family and world-renowned delicacy made by the Aunt), and once again, let me say that these are two of my favorite people in the world. They have been married 56 years, and are funny as hell, like a comedy team, and they are loaded with the Black Humor, which I thought only came from my side of the family. I heart them totally.

So one of the reasons my girls like to go in a separate car is that their father has been known to freak out on the ride home. On one notable occasion, the traffic irked him so much he announced that he was going to drive the car into a wall and kill us all. So you can see that this troubles them a bit. He's a very good driver, but he has a habit of following the car in front of us too closely for my comfort, so it's not usually pleasant for me, either. And today I saw him consume a fair amount of wine, so I assumed I'd be driving home. But he drove, and damn if he isn't a better driver with wine in him than without. (He didn't drive back to his folks' house from the restaurant, I did, so he did wait some time after his last glass and getting behind the wheel.) As for me, anyone driving on the same day as having consumed alcohol is too much, but honestly, I had no stressful moments on the whole ride, and the traffic never bothered him, such as it was.

So now I'm just waiting for K to get back from dropping off R, and for John Adams to start on TV. And work tomorrow, oh boy.


WATCHING waiting for JOHN ADAMS :: ENTRY #1708