Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam

Essential thinking for reading Catholics.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Miscellany

On Memorial Day, I was persuaded to loiter about Miami International Airport (Trivia! The REAL name is "Wilcox Field.") with Karen & MJ.

For some inadequately explained reason, they had a 4 hour layover in Miami from Orlando. This meant they could have driven from Orlando to Miami and had plenty of time to make the flight. But that would have meant they'd've had to park their car at MIA, at MIA's parking rates which, given the number of days, is equivalent to paying for a space shuttle.

Anyway.

We hung out and loitered.

Miami, for all its manifold charms, is something of an acquired taste. The best way I can think of describing it to someone is as a cross between a Tommy Bahama ad and the cantina scene from Star Wars. The airport, being the societal petri dish that it is, would be a highly concentrated version of this. During an email exchange whereby we coordinated and strategized meeting and location points and all that, I advised Karen that I might wear my Nantucket Reds. This, I believe, horrified her. I took her reaction with equanimity, looking charitably upon the matter because the poor girl spent most of her adult life in Los Angeles. Therefore the prep ethos is something of a jarring note to her system, already frazzled by anxiety over spending penniless weeks in Spain with unintelligible taxi drivers who go the opposite direction from that which she requires, while napping as the country shuts down and eats its meals at times inimical to her digestion.

So I desisted from paying due homage to Memorial Day (which kicks off the sartorial summer season) and instead, wore Those Pants. I was readily recognizable, which was the intent.

Anyway, we hung out and loitered and had mojitos (me and Karen) and lunch (Karen & MJ). MJ had never been subjected to the full dosage of me, and I must say she took it like a champ. Here's the tidbit Karen didn't know and I didn't tell. Karen will remember my bemoaning Midnight Mass last Christmas. Well. The priest who celebrated that Mass was -- clad in the traditional short sleeved plaid shirt -- sitting right behind Karen. (Veritas knows who it is.)

So that was fun, yes?

In the meantime, I had to explain myself to MJ pretty much from DNA until about noon that day, which she took well. The fact she didn't look wildly puzzled when I told her what I do for a living was a very great testament to her intellect. Or maybe she was tired and too polite to tell me I wasn't making any bloody sense at all.

We chatted a too-short while, we discussed our Favorite Jesuits and those Jesuits who have, er, the greatest opportunity for growth. (Charitable enough?) And, for frisson, I threw in a few tales of run-ins with Liberation Theology, which got me a D and which kept me out of Georgetown. (It involves me "stealing" a desk.)

Lastly, MJ was charged with a sacred duty to discharge: Taking a picture of Karen and me, to prove to the world I am not an orthodoxy bot. Alas, so rattled were they by my pants (which Karen demanded be cropped out of the picture) that the opportunity passed and I remained unphotographed. Which strikes me as an extreme way to keep my trouserings away from the public eye, but there ya go.

-J.

3 Comments:

  • At 9:39 AM, May 30, 2007 , Blogger Veritas said...

    I love this story and you've encouraged me to dust off my own pair of Nantucket Reds that my mother gave one Christmas!

     
  • At 3:35 AM, June 02, 2007 , Blogger Karen said...

    Funny, I was just looking through iPhoto for that pictures, wondering what had happened to it...

    That should give you some indication of how tired I am.

    So today it's my birthday and we're headed to Santiago de Compostela. We are in Leon this morning, where last night we had a meal that would have made the average person weep. OMG, as my daughter says.

    About those pants...

    Oh, nevermind.

     
  • At 7:25 AM, June 03, 2007 , Blogger Steve said...

    I get through/to Miami now & then - I'll let you know when the next time is and maybe I can get that picture...

     

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