Ahhh....the Caribbean: soft sand, warm water and cool breezes.... good times to be had.... unless, of course, you get nagged about EVERYTHING....
So I'm getting ready to head down to Hawai'i for March Break for a school trip. This one should be pretty good, gonna check out some volcanoes and different beaches, make it educational as well as entertaining. But, as I'm doing some laundry and packing up few things, I'm flashing back to last year, when the Trevors family went to San Juan on their first family vacation.
First of all, I should clarify: we've done family vacations before when I was younger (I wasn't really "planned" & was an only child until age 11), and since then, both of my little brothers got to go to Disneyworld.....but this was the first one with all the whole family.....and most likely the last one.
San Juan has been a family destination for the better part of 40 years, starting with my Uncle John and his buddies back in the 60's. Since then, my dad and my uncles and their pals have been down there a lot (Uncle John has missed 3 years in total I believe). So we have some history there.......
Well, my mom (who I love dearly & is a great mother and lady), while traveling can be most accurately described as a "paranoid pessimist." In addition, she likes being in control.....a lot. As many of you know, once you check into an airport, the last thing you are is in control.....this didn't bode well.
If a check-in time is recommended two hours before the flight.....we're there four hours prior. We're all going to get shot by the security personnel......because I'm wearing a hat.....even though they're Canadian and unarmed. My discman is going to cause a plane to crash.....while I'm in the airport. I'm going to get strip-searched.....because I'm taking a Tim's coffee through security. And so on and so forth.
We all make our way to the pre-boarding screening, we all get through.....except mom. She has to have the portable metal detector waved over her.....no big deal, right? Not on your life.......this is the "most embarrassing thing ever" to occur to her and she's trying to look to see if anyone she knows witnesses this as she doesn't want the "news" to hit the Miramichi. We eventually board the plane and make it to Puerto Rico.
Well, the week in San Juan goes by (incidents occuring will be covered in future posts) and we'll fast-forward to the airport in San Juan when we leave. As most of you know, Puerto Rico is an American protectorate, operating under the same Customs and Immigration laws as the rest of the continental U.S. , thereby the "importing goods to Canada" rules are the same. The kicker is that it's in the friggin' Caribbean and that means good goddamned rum.......I like rum, and so do my friends.....I bought a bottle each for Aaen and Nick but I can only bring one across. My parents aren't drinkers though; this could work out....one of them could bring a bottle across for me, right?
Well, sweet gentle Jesus......you woulda thought I asked my mother to take part in a Satanic ritual. Dad, of course, had no problems whatsoever taking a bottle of rum for his soon-to-be 29 year-old son's friend.....crap, he was taking cigars for his 17 year-old son's friends.
We get to the security screening and mom was still at me: "I can't believe you're making your father do this....what if he ends up in jail? Do you think he's your mule? And after everything he's done for you......." Well, American airport security guards are a little on edge at the best of times, and hearing this exchange had perked their ears up a little more. Plus, unlike their Canadian counterparts, they do have guns. So I was trying to ignore my mom.....like she was an abandoned crazy lady.....
I get through security, as well as Greg (the 17 year old). Mom and dad are a few people behind Alex (12 year old) when he was going through when a crew of security moved quickly to huddle at a screen on the baggage x-ray.
"WHO"S BAG IS THIS?" one of them demanded.
Alex, quiet as ever, raises his hand as I walk over. I explain that he is my little brother and that his was the bag in question. They unzip the bag and haul out a replica 17th century flintlock pirate's pistol.
Now, in reality, Osama Bin Laden himself could haul that gun out on a plane and I would piss myself laughing. Basically throw some obese cruise passenger from Minnesota in front of the "musket ball" and then everyone could take turns kicking Osama in the nuts as he spent five minutes reloading it......this should've been a good laugh by all involved, the security guards included.
But, after the last nine days of hearing "Matthew! What are you doing?" to pretty much everything I did during waking hours, my response was probably building up & waiting to be released for some time. I turned to my mother and said, "You nag me about everything yet you allow your youngest son have a replica pistol in his carry-on? Nice work."
I didn't get a birthday hug when they dropped me off the next day..........
Stay tuned, hopefully have a posting en direct from Hawai'i! Later!
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