Lori left today--bummer. We have such a blast together, though we were a bit out of sync on our trip to California.
"Can you believe we didn't see one bar we wanted to go in?" she remarked on the way back to Vegas.
And it was true. We drove around a good part of Southern California and never came across a tavern, pub, or biker bar that beckoned us to stop. Same can't be said of northern Alabama, that's for sure! We're just a couple of weirdos.
Here's a picture Lori took of me at the gas station before we hit the road Saturday morning.
I was like, "Why the hell are you taking a picture of me pumping gas?"
She said it would be good to document that we did, in fact, get gas--unlike the start of our East-West cross-country road trip last November. This is hilarious, if you haven't seen it yet.
That is so freakin' funny. Every time I watch that I crack up. Our mother, Dee Dee Idaho, is such an excellent traveler--we dragged her all over the place, including a few biker bars, and she happily went along for the ride.
Mom had a birthday on Sunday--lucky 77! Man, that is hard to believe. One of my first memories is standing on the corner of Jay and Allen Streets in Albany with my little neighbor friend Raymie Long. After we discovered our mothers were the same age, we decided there'd be nothing cooler than to shout to the world, "My mother's 29! My mother's 29! My mother's 29! My mother's 29! "
If you've read my book, you know that Mom suffered from agoraphobia for years and hardly ever left the house. Now she's making up for lost time, traveling around the country--even flying by herself--and having fun, as you can tell from her recent Facebook posts:
"Going to Ste. Chapelle winery and sit under the trees, drink wine and listen to Jimmy Buffet music."
And then a few hours later:
"Had a ball. Not only did we drink wine and listen to Jimmy Buffet music, but we danced up a storm, barefoot in the grass. I'm exhausted. I wish all of you were here; you would have loved it, too."
We tease her and say that all those years on the couch must have preserved her; she's outlived most of her friends in Albany and when she moved to Idaho, she had to get herself some younger BFFs who can keep up with her.
"My mother's 77! My mother's 77!" I'll shout it from the rooftops--she won't care--she looks pretty damn good, huh?