As if you were there

Lois contemplates a royal lifestyle

Can’t let a moment pass without telling you that Dad has decided that he looks Egyptian enough to go there, join the protestors, perfect his deaf and dumb act, gain supporters, and run for President of Egypt!

How do you think I will looking sailing down the Nile in a barge as the new first lady of Egypt. Can’t wait to break into Cleopatra’s tomb and raid her jewelry collection!


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Thank God!  I have had visions of you buried under a snowdrift in your usual winter wear—a denim jacket and open-toed shoes!

As far as your starting a blog or reality show, please remember that Daddy prefers to fly under the radar—although he talks all the time, he would be picked up by sonar.Not to mention the fact that just putting on his TV makeup and dressing him in a suitable ensemble would be a reality show in itself. He said to let you know that we walk, swim, watch TV, eat, watch some more TV and sleep until the next day.
Today, he went nuts when I said “Hola” to a little boy.  He realizes that I am desperate for a random conversation and fears that I will trap the child and the mother will have to have me arrested.  As we were leaving the pool, I could hear her singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” to him.  Do I have to tell you what self-control I had to exercise to avoid going back and joining in with appropriate hand gestures.  I might not have been able to sing it in Spanish, but I could have done wonders with my hand gestures.
We are getting the New Yorker on the Kindle.  I read the piece on Scientology.  Nuts gone wild! 

We had dinner last night in a not so hot neighborhood.  We had to climb up several flights of stairs to get to the dining room—this after the cab that took us there seemed to be going a very strange way.  After dinner, they called a cab to take us back home.  Daddy walked down the stairs to wait for the cab.  I was making my way down the stairs at my usual snailish pace when the waiter (who looked like Nathan Lane) rushed out shouting “Peligroso”  and motioning to me to get Daddy to come back upstairs.  I misunderstood the rest of what the guy said and for some reason thought he was telling us that he had a secret exit through the back of the building where a cab was waiting for us.  Dad came back up, since I yelled my misinformation to him.  Of course, all the waiter was saying was that it was dangerous to stand in the street and we should wait until the cab arrive and then go out.  Daddy was mucho pissed.
Of course, I am prancing around wearing these $25 pieces of jewelry.  Everywhere we go, Daddy points to the other women in the room to let me know that no one is wearing as much as I am.  Oh, well.  Despite the time zone, etc.  not much changes.
Tomorrow, Susie arrives.  We are going to take a drive into the Pampas.  Dad told me to inform you that if we get kidnapped and you are contacted, just leave us there. I’m sure he feels that he can work his charms on any kidnappers.
Daddy has just moved on to the “Danger Above” level of Angry Birds.  Oh, yes.  I think I dissuaded him from renting in Florida next year instead of returning to BA.  I told him that if he’s afraid of my talking to strangers in a language that I can’t speak, imagine what would happen with me and the yentas in Miami Beach.  I pointed out that I am a yenta magnet, after all.

Be well, toots.  Love to Matt and tell him I say “Thanks for keeping you out of N. Korea.”  What are you thinking!

Hola,

Sorry we haven’t been in touch, we’ve been traipsing around the city, swimming and sunning. Yesterday, we walked what seemed like a zillion blocks to get to an “artist’s center.” We expected to find galleries, etc. Instead, there was a woman selling the same jewelry that we see in the street fairs in New York, some old pieces of furniture, and no paintings. To get there, we passed shop after shop, each having liquidation sales—I expect that they have satellite branches in Times Square. Underwear stores all in a row sporting thongs and teeny-weeny bras. All of the clothes look nice at first glance, then you discover random pieces of lace attached to them in odd places, or sequins, or strange sayings or drawings. According to these stores, no one in all of Buenos Aires wears a size larger than a 4. At one point, I tried to buy a cute skirt from a woman selling clothes on the street—she just shook her head at me and directed me to a green muu muu. That day was not sunny, so after our disappointing cultural tour, we went to the movies. These movie theaters sell only reserved seats and let you in a few minutes before the movie starts. It’s neat.

Our major disaster happened when Dad left his ATM card in the ATM machine at the bank. By the time we realized it, the bank was closed, so I tried to call our ridiculous bank in New York. Their so-called “24 hour emergency service” consists of a recorded message telling that no one was available until normal banking hours. So we spent the night checking our bank balance to see if someone had found the card and was prancing around BA buying Flat Screen TVs with our bank card. The next day we were at the bank at the break of dawn with a note explaining what had happened and asking if anyone turned in our card. (I wrote the note after going to Google translator to get the Spanish right.) Then, it occurred to Dad that if we went in and slipped a note to a teller, they might think we were bank robbers and we’d wind up in jail. So, Dad and I showed it to a guard who directed us to a bank officer type. Lots of people were in line ahead of us, so we mumbled and grumbled until it was our turn. No one turned in the card. Then I called the Flushing Savings Bank and told a human being that I wanted to report a lost ATM card. She asked when it was lost and when I told her, she said “You should have reported it last night!” If it wasn’t for the expense of the call, I would have gone into a rant, but we just reported it and called it a day. By the way—no one bought a flat screen TV.

Thanks to you, I have been suffering from an enormous bellyache—on Super Bowl Sunday we ran out and bought a ton of junk food which we ate while watching the game on Sling Media. Funny thing is that by the fourth quarter, we discovered that it was being shown on Spanish TV. Of course, the play-by-play was in Spanish, so we thought we’d get the sound from Slingo and watch on a larger screen. Well, the plays on Spanish TV happened about 2 minutes before we saw the same play on Slingo. Had we known that, we might have been able to organize some kind of betting thing ala The Sting. Although, no one here cares about US football.

Our friend, Susie, from our days in Boston is coming Saturday with her husband. She is absolutely a mirror image of me. I keep getting emails asking if we have hangers, an iron, and many other items that are common in all cities and BA is a city. Then, she needs to know what clothes to bring — for her and her husband. I just tell her to bring summer stuff. She wrote me today that her husband has banned her from wearing shorts. She also needs to know if she needs to bring flip flops and although I have explained to her how to hire a car service at the airport, she keeps on asking me how to get a cab. Of course, I wrote her to bring towels, TUMS, and Zantac. Dad went nuts when he learned about the towels and I had to tell her to forget about them.

We have found an open top hop-on, hop-off tour bus, and although I think we have explored the whole city we are taking a tour. Perhaps we can write off this trip as a business trip because Dad will see how these buses work in another city. By the way, he is tearing his hair out because although my Spanish is preposterous, I keep on talking to people in the elevator and sometimes on the street. Today, there were 3 post-college age Americans at the pool and I had to swear not to attempt to engage them in conversation. It was a struggle, since at one point, I think I heard them talking about cash-cab. But I kept quiet.

I have been following your Facebook communication with the IRS—has that not been straightened out yet or are you just venting. And what is your issue with Citibank? How come you didn’t offer to set up a web site or something for them.

I must go now and dress for dinner—jeans is now my dinner costume.

Love,
Mom and Dad

PS I forgot to tell you that Dad is completly obsessed with Angry Birds. He is now up to the Boomerang bird. He says “What else do you expect me to do, we don’t go clubbing and I’m not gay.”



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