I'm paralleling the same route that we took 15 years ago in the Citabria. Right after I left the Navy, we piled into the little two seater and flew, pretty much at highway speed, east to my Mom's place in West Palm Beach. Right out of the California hills, we hit a bit of turbulence, which may have given Janet, or at least her tummy, second thoughts. But at an Arizona FBO, we met up with the couple who ran the place. While the husband showed me his biplane he was working on, his wife plied Janet with ginger candy. Airsickness disappeared immediately. Janet was in love. With the candy, and I suppose with me, too, or she wouldn't have made it that far.
Come evening, we landed in Deming, NM, where I'm writing this. The cabbie who took us into town told us it was the land of clean water and fast ducks. The town is set on a spring, and every year, they have a duck race. Later, we'd discover they used plastic floaty ducks, much to Janet's disappointment. She always did like ducks, maintaining that the best part of the Disneyland Jungle Boat tour was seeing real ducks nesting on fake crocodiles.
That evening, we found ourselves watching Sesame Street. Hey, it's better than most of the other stuff on TV! And I remember this song coming on:
We waltzed around the room, singing "Batty batty bat bat bat bat" until we got tired and went to sleep. Or something like that.
I won't be somber, but just before she passed, I held her up and we waltzed as best as we could to that song, then finished with an Arbeau pavane. But in deference to M. Arbeau, I think Janet liked the bats better.
Bat bat bat bat bat...
No comments:
Post a Comment