A Shrewdness of Apes

An Okie teacher banished to the Midwest. "Education is not the filling a bucket but the lighting of a fire."-- William Butler Yeats

Sunday, October 08, 2006

OooooooooooohK!-LAHOMA, where the wind comes sweepin' off the PAIN!

Hey, how y'all doing? I and the Beloved Offspring have taken advantage of my three-day weekend to visit the Tulsa State Fair and try to entertain the Gramma. It's been beautiful, warm, and sunny. A few quick observations, though:

1. Why is it that there are 63 construction zones on 1-44, and NONE of them actually involve construction, or even torn-up blacktop? It's like the highway Archfiends just randomly drop cones like Albert Pujols swats clutch hits to shut down half the highway. And there you are, stuck at a standstill in the middle of a pasture filled with llamas (at least it's interesting scenery) when you should be zooming along at 75 mph-- but no, I'm left gazing longingly at that Siren-like closed lane. It's maddening.

2. You have spread the BO out one to an entire row, and they still bicker for hundreds of miles.

3. When you arrive at your hotel, your youngest decides to wait until the lights are out and Mom has just closed her eyes with her eyedrops in them to get up and go the bathroom. On his way back, in the dark, he trips on a suitcase that someone left out and slits his eyelid open-- about an inch long gash, and nice and deep.

4. You get to employ your mad first-aid skillz for the hundredth time in your life to determine that this injury is going to require intervention. You consider Dermabond, but since it's near the eye, you hesitate. So, you put a butterfly clip on it, get the BO dressed, tears streaming from your eyes because you are not supposed to be getting up and walking around after putting in the eyedrops, and take the entire parade to the closest emergency room. You pick the new hospital in town, because you figure they won't be that busy, since no one really ever remembers it's there... Tulsans being creatures of habit, they are either St. Francis people or St. John's people or Hillcrest people.

5. Even though there are only about five people in the emergency room, it will still take you four hours to see a doctor. During this time, BO will whine about how they're tired, and there's nowhere to sleep, and for once you will welcome this whining, because they're drowning out the woman curled up in the wheelchair who is obviously quite gifted in the ancient art of profanity. What she lacks in artistic merit, she more than makes up for in quantity and perseverence. You hope your oldest is not taking notes.

6. When you finally are ushered into a room, you are then abandoned again. Finally, you go to the door and stare meaningfully at the fifteen medical personnel who are giggling and languidly shuffling papers. These are people for whom there is no urgency-- put them in different clothes, and their activity level is very similar to that of the subjects of one of those lovely, hazy, Impressionist watercolors-- you know, where they're picnicking, or punting, or they're waterlillies. By 4 am, however, languid artistic types are not what I am looking for-- I'm more looking for someone who actually can employ some medical skills upon my child with the bloody oozing eye. Maybe I'm too picky.

7. Finally, THE LOOK that all good teachers have works its magic on the back of the cranium of one of our picnickers at the front desk, and he stops joking about having beer in his waterbottle long enough to move so that my gaze can no longer burn its way into his skull.

8. The doctor comes in, goes out, comes in, goes out, and then decides that the kiddo won't need stitches. Instead, we'll use Dermabond. Now look, while I am grateful, if the nurse that triaged him had said this to me 3 hours and thirty five minutes ago, I could have done it myself without the paperwork, ER fees, and the entertainment provided by Invective Woman.

9. We get back to the hotel and to sleep at 5. Hours later, we awake and go to the Fair. Much Fun Ensues. We see animals, and ride rides, and marvel at the butter sculpture, and the Sugar Art is beyond belief. So is the fried food. Deep Fried Candy Bars. Deep Fried Chocolate Covered Cheesecake. Fried Green Tomatoes. Fried Corndogs. Fried Pickles. Fried Turkey Legs. We go home Saturday night exhausted, but having gotten our money's worth out of the Fair.

10. Sunday, as I put Eldest Child into the shower so they can go with Gramma to her Minimall for Jesus (whilst I visit a different church without the snake-handling), the FIRE Alarm goes off.

Yes. I kid you not. I and a hundred people go out into the beautifully crisp Tulsa morning armed only with our wits and shivering children pulled out of the shower.

I would go get a drink. But it's Sunday in Oklahoma. It ain't allowed, except for Communion.

Think of me during my hours long drive back to the Cornelius manse today.

5 Comments:

At 10/8/06, 10:29 AM, Blogger GuusjeM said...

And OU got trounced in the the big game too! Hook em' Horns!

 
At 10/8/06, 6:11 PM, Blogger graycie said...

Of such outings are wonderful memories made. You will laugh with the BO over this in years to come. really.

Deep fried chocolate covered cheesecake? My gosh, it sounds wonderful -- and I can feel my arteries clogging from here!

 
At 10/9/06, 7:00 PM, Blogger Polski3 said...

No stitches? Darn, what will Jr. have to show the kids at school?

No cow-pie toss ? No basket filled with of fried zuccini, okra, tomatoes and onions?

Glad you had an overall nice time!

Hickory trees turning color yet in E. OK.?

 
At 10/9/06, 9:34 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I was just thinking about trying to get my little ones to the AZ state fair next weekend...I might rethink it ;) !

 
At 10/10/06, 9:29 PM, Blogger "Ms. Cornelius" said...

ms. q- No, no-- go to the Fair! We had a blast!

Polski, there were baskets upon baskets of fried food, I just didn't eat 'em. The trees are just beginning to turn-- it was lovely.

Graycie- I'm not quite ready to laugh yet. But I'm sure I will.

Guusjem, you are so WRONG.

 

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