Somewhere along I-19 we passed a sign for Sahuarita. In metric.
Apparently, someone during the seventies had the nifty idea to convert portions of the southern Arizona highway from miles to kilometers. This greatly confuses most Americans such as myself who are adamant that unless the Europeans convert then why the heck should we?
“Do you understand the metric system?” my soon-to-be erstwhile mentor inquired.
No, I replied unapologetically. Nor did I care for a math lesson. I simply wanted him to put a lid on his dirty filthy stinkin’ garbage mouth. At least I didn’t wish for him to never exhale through his nose again.
Not taking the hint he went on to explain all the fascinating aspects of the metric system ad nauseam. Satisfied that he’d exhausted the both of us, he asked if I wanted to go to Mexico.
My ears perked up. “Really?”
He promised that after we snapped sufficient shots of missiles we could head straight to the border town of Nogales. “I’d like to pick up more anti-viral medicine,” he said. “It’s just too bad they’re so strict about barbiturates. Best sleep medicine, really.”
Visions of steroids danced in my head. I only wanted to be tempted. That’s all.
We finally made it to the museum where we were immediately ushered into a conference room and forced to watch a ten minute presentation narrated by some retired military fellow who was accidentally comical.
Between the math lesson and the history lesson I had no qualms about diverting my attention to a much more interesting subject matter. I texted hello to the Italian Angeleno.
I just saw Bruce Willis! he wrote back.
“What are you doing?” whispered the Brit.
“Nothing,” I whispered back and slid the phone into my pocket.
The film wrapped and we were ready to blow this joint.
I think it was the look on my face that betrayed my insufferable boredom. Thank God we didn’t opt for the five hour tour. I am certain I would have prayed for the Russians to drop a nuke right then and there. The Brit apologized and promised an exciting shoot in Mexico. “I’m sorry this was such a boring first date.”
Whoa! Did he say date?
November 15, 2009 at 9:49 am |
I wish I had been there. Growing up I was very much into the whole military arms thing….dreamed of working for Jane’s Defence as a writer and/or researcher.
And, of course, I couldn’t look through your pics without thinking of that 1970’s flick “Twilights Last Gleaming”, which I saw once on television when I was probably 15 or so. Wish I could see it again.
Date? Delicious….
November 19, 2009 at 12:36 pm |
He’s very much misguided.
And, Fork, I don’t know about Twilights Last Gleaming but I did feel as if I were on an episode of The Twilight Zone.
You will have to elaborate on Jane’s Defence.