January 23, 2006
still haven't decided whether to stay or go
The Live Journal experiment is going well, the built in audience a great boost. But do I want to end this site....or maintain...or both.
Posted by cmckeithan at 01:40 AM | Comments (0)
December 04, 2005
What I want for Christmas
this is all I want for christmas
Posted by cmckeithan at 11:10 PM | Comments (0)
November 30, 2005
A day in the Life
The set up:
Last night it was very cold and very wet and very windy in our neck of the woods. I finally bought a fireplace screen and some logs, and so last night I checked to be sure the trap in the chimney was open and lit a log. After a few adjustments, and a resetting of the smoke alarms, all was glowing merrily.
Two of our three cats did not come in at final call. Unusual, since normally they lurk on one side of the door or the other. As we all know, it is a cat's main goal in life to pass through doors. I sometimes open the door to let the cats in, then open it again to let them run out. Then again a minute later...and sure enough, they rush right back in. but I digress.
The Punch Line
The morning started as usual. Up to get Lauryn breakfast, do dishes, get the boys headed toward breakfast. Jump in the shower and shave. Different for today; a little extra attention to cleaning details. At ten I would be standing up at the company meeting to announce that as of the end of the year I would be leaving the company to pursue other options. Six years of employment deserves a little spit and polish. Out in time to kiss the wife as she heads out the door to take the boys to school.
Her final words of the morning, "Lauryn is all set to go, she just needs her hair brushed and your out the door". I settle on the couch and turn on the TV. Lauryn and I watch Dragon Tales and Caliou. Hair and make her lunch. I have two hours before I need to stand and say goodbye at work. It's about thirty seconds from Lauryn's classroom to the meeting. If I leave at 9:30 I'll have
plenty
of
t i m e . . . . .
Someone is banging on the door. Barney is singing about how much he loves me. Lauryn is waving a sock in my face and her shirt is wet. The good cat that came in for the night is licking milk off the table as I stumble to the door while scrubbing my damp hair across into some form of not clown shaped.
There is a large truck in front of the house and to laborers are pushing wheel barrows into my rented back yard. While my brain is digesting that, the little old lady from next door is shouting in a thick Asian accent that I have cats! Lauryn is arguing with the cat about who can lick more milk off the table.
"Cat's"? I ask while trying to shake the sleep fog off. Somewhere in the back of my brain it is registering that Barney is now singing "It's 9:20 and you need to brush your daughters hair"
"YES...HOW MANY CATS YOU HAVE?"
"Ummmm, three"? I hope this is the right answer. The men with the wheel barrows are now taking heavy farm equipment into the back. one of them is waving an extension cord over his head. I think he wants something from me.
"IS DAT ONE OF THEM"? No..that's my daughter..she needs an extension cord....
"Yes." I am at least sure that Stubby is in fact one of my cats, and that the cat next to the two year old is Stubby, walking away from Lauryn while she tries to pet him with the sippy cup. He is giving me that "What the hell, man...Two kids weren't enough"? look.
"I TINK YOU OTHER CAT IS IN MY CHINEE"
"?"....."What"?
"I THINK YOU OTHER CAT IN MY CHIMNEE"
I glance up at her chimney expecting to see cat legs protruding from the top. There is a man on the roof with a flashlight. He is staring down the chimney and says that yes...the cat is down there. "He is meowing and just moved his head, I think he's okay, just stuck.
It's 9:30.
I yank my shoes on while trying to decide how to convey to Lauryn any of what's going on.
"Honey, ......uhmmmm.....Watch Barney for a few more minutes....Daddy needs to get something from next door."
I jump up the fence and onto the roof. The man with the extension cord has a ladder that he is just leaning onto the roof. He looks up at me and tries to remember what the ladder in his hand is for.
Leah is in fact at the bottom of the chimney, looking like a loaf of bread with a tail. "Leah....hey sweetie". She looks up at me and glares. Apparently in my sleep last night I hunted her down and carried her kicking and screaming up onto the neighbors roof in the pouring rain and forced her down the hole. This is MY fault.
I take the ladder back down to the lawn and extension cord man ask for a place to plug in. I now remember that our backyard is being scraped and cleaned today to get construction debris out of the ground. Lauryn is done with Barney. She is now on the lawn showing a great deal of interest in a pick axe. Her remaining sock is now soaked and muddy. I take her with me into the neighbors house, and she sits fascinated as I crawl into the little old ladies fireplace. Thank God the cat went down her chimney instead of mine. Little Old Lady does not use her fireplace. Regardless, there is soot everywhere. The Cat is still mad at me and is acting like a limp sack of potatoes as I contort my arm up past the chimney trap and down to where the cat is stuck. Ten minutes later, the Chimney is giving birth to a wet, sooty, angry, scared cat that smells like ...well exactly like you would expect a wetsootyangryscared cat to smell.
"KITTY"!!Lauryn squeals with delight.
Did I mention that Little Old Lady owns a Basset Hound / Weasel mix? Dog, Cat, Soot, 2 Year Old, and I all mix it up for a blinding second or two. Some how we end up on the lawn. Kitty and Doggy run down the street.
It's 9:35.
I rush Lauryn into the house and start hunting for a shoe...any shoe. Lauryn is telling me the shoe is in my bedroom. What does she know! The men in back are demanding that I move all of our camping gear. The landlord warned me I would need to do that. Lauryn is getting upset. The cat races by the front door, basset weasel in tow. Into the boys room, open the window overlooking the back yard. Move the shelf. Put Lauryn by the window. "Stay here and watch Daddy out the window".Out the back. Throw gear into the shed. More gear. Lauryn is crying down the hall. Call Lauryn. "Daddy's here, come to the window. Come to the window." Call work. "I'm-gonna-be-ten-minutes-late-my-cat-got-stuck-in-the-chimney-and.....I'll call you back".Last of the gear.Extension cord.Plug.CAT.DOG. Lauryn. make Lunch. At the door...
"Daddy...I poopie!"
For just a half a second...I almost did it. I almost caved into the desire to just let someone else deal with that . Thankfully, Now that I am on my third child, I have mastered the art that few men have. I can change a poopie diaper with the child standing, clean and freshly replaced in under a minute.
Out to the car. Back for my phone. Out to the Car. Back for my coffee. Out to the car. Out the driveway. Back in the driveway. Back inside for Lauryn's Lunch. As I head out the door for the final run, two thoughts cross my mind. There are muddy footprints running throughout all the carpet in my house, and I never did brush Lauryn's hair.
Ten minutes later I am standing, somewhat sooty and disheveled, with my muddy shoes outside the conference room door, saying goodbye to my coworkers.
Another regular day in the Life.
Posted by cmckeithan at 03:00 AM | Comments (0)
November 25, 2005
No comments please.........
| Erotic Thriller |
 Your best movie matches: Swimming Pool, Unfaithful, The Crush |
Posted by cmckeithan at 12:30 AM | Comments (0)
November 24, 2005
All I want for Christmas.
Lauryn:
"I have plenty of plastic crap made in China Dad, please tell Santa all I want is world peace and some nice new outfits. I'm a size 3T.
REALLY Creative toys that had thought put into them and generate thoughts from play with them would be nice too.
Connor: There is no such thing as too much crap made in China, I have to make up for my friends who boycott Chinese slave labor products by gathering more plastic in my bedroom than Joan Rivers has in her chin.
The following will do nicely:
Anything Star Wars.
Anything Harry Potterish
Anything cheap made out of Plastic.
(let the editor note- In reality, Connor loves handmade stuff and creative idea type gifts as well, but refuses to admit it.
Avery: If it has words printed on it, I will read it. If it will help me read in the dark, I will love it. If it's a bookmark, I will Lose it. Yugioh cards make great book marks. Dads 20 dollar bill will work as well until he freaks out because 20 bucks is a lot of money when you just quit your day job. I also just got a game boy SD, so Nintendo game boy games would be swell.
bionicles are cool.
Erector Sets and Chemistry sets scare mom, which makes them SUPER COOL
Did I mention I just got a game boy sd? I saved up with my own money because Dad said he would not buy me one. This way, I actually care what happens to it. accessories for it would be cool.
I also do not own ANY of the Series of Unfortunate Events books.
Sandy: I like diamonds.
Charles: I could use a career in theater that pays.
Posted by cmckeithan at 11:54 PM | Comments (1)
now then...where was I?
Sorry for the long absence......my password failed me, and I have been over blogging at my livejournal site (screen name chuckmckeithan)
some will be happy and some sad to know tht I am still in the top eight of the hunks of hannukah contest.
It's 2:30 and I am tired.
Back again soon. Thanks for staying faithful.
Posted by cmckeithan at 02:43 AM | Comments (0)
September 14, 2005
chuck, charles, charlie, chuck a lucka,.......
For years the debate between my friends and loved ones has raged on. Do we call you Chuck or Charles? Personally, you can call me anything but Chaz and I will respond..(had a manager on my first job that called me Chaz, hated the whole experience and the name calls up memories of cheap pizza and greasy polyester pants)
For those of you in the Live Journal universe that are voting and nominating for the Hunks O Hannuke thing, I am listed there as both CharlesMckeithan and Chuckmckeithan. for one reason or another, I do not have a charlesmckeithan livejournal page, so look for the Chuck one and vote promptly and often!
Love to all my fans......
Charles
Posted by cmckeithan at 10:47 AM | Comments (2)
September 13, 2005
Hunk....me?
I keep a livejurnal account up to avoid having to comment anon on freinds sites. NOw I have been Nominated for the 8 Hunks of Hannukah!
http://www.theferrett.com/hunks/hunk_tally.php
If your checking to see what I even look like before committing to anything, go here.... then feel free, should you be a Livejournal type and be so inclined, to vote away!
Thanks
Charles
Posted by cmckeithan at 10:19 AM | Comments (1)
July 16, 2005
The quiet Playground
the other minister is likely sitting at
spinners end wondering if the children
will and won't be back again to fill the play ground while
horace Slughorn cleans up
An Excess of Phlegm created by passers by who took
Draco's Detour adn ended up in
The Slug Club watching a house of green cheer their master
Snape Victorious.
The Halfblood Prince has his copy and sits in
The House of Gaunt reading with no knowledge of time.
Hermione's Helping hand opens the purple hardbound cover ignoring
Silver and Opals and all things material in search of
The secret Riddle of imagination.
Felix Felicis has taken
The Unbreakable Vow to finish the entire book before
A very Frosty Christmas. Of course by then the book will be
A Sluggish Memory, read long before snow fall and was forgotten as
Birthday Surprises drowned out the story with new
Elf Tails by other authors.
Lord Voldemorts Request for a copy signed by J.K.Rowling was noted in
The Unknowable Room but what the answer was will only be answered
After the Burial.
Horcruxes is a fancy word
Sectumsempra is also fancy and sound kinda latinish, they are words
The Seer Overheard while hiding in
The Cave becuase it seemed alot safer than
The lightning Struck Tower. She was waiting for the
Flight of the Prince which made the Hydra Cry and
The Phonix Lament. The playground today is as still as
The White Tomb. Everyone's at home. Reading.
Posted by cmckeithan at 10:53 PM | Comments (0)
June 29, 2005
What kind of Spy are YOu?
| Vincent You scored 60% Ruthless |
| You are Vincent from Collateral. You are a no-nonsense, get the job done, stone cold hardass, and you have no problem shooting somebody in the face at point blank range. You are very dedicated at completing your objective, and show no mercy or compassion to get what you want. If that weren't enough, you have a pretty suave way of slipping your way in and out of cities unnoticed, and can blend in with the common man. You keep your comments short and to the point, but have a unique way of looking at death: it pays the big bucks. Why should you get to know a guy before you kill him? You shouldn't, and that's what makes you bad to the bone. |
 |
My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The Secret Agent/Assassin Test written by UAMaverick on OkCupid Free Online Dating |
Posted by cmckeithan at 11:48 PM | Comments (0)
May 14, 2005
appearing (sort of ) on the Radio Kiss FM Sunday Morning
Hi Susan, looking forward to the interview with Rona on Sunday. I will be sure to leave early enough to avoid Bay to Breaker traffic, see you at the Studio before 8:30....
heres the breif bio you asked for......
Charles McKeithan
36 years old
Married for eleven years, to Sandy McKeithan Three Children
Avery eight year old boy
Connor, six year old boy
Lauryn, 17 Month old girl.
I was raised the third child of three in a military household that traveled on a regular basis through my childhood. By eighteen, I had seen more of the world than most people see in a lifetime. I have always been outgoing and energetic with a knack for stealing attention and more than my share of the conversation. A combination that has served me well as a Bay Area Actor but not always so well as a husband and a father.
As an Actor with a Day Job, I earn my living working as the director of facilities for Childrens' Creative Learning Centers, based out of Sunnyvale Ca. CCLC provides child care at twenty different locations to parents throughout the Bay Area as well as satellite locations in Colorado, Monterey CA and a new center opening in Folsom this fall. If it's a broken water pipe or a leaky internet connection, my job is to fix it.
In the time not devoted to work and family, I have performed both in live theater and film for the past nine years throughout the local community. I also keep a sporadically maintained Web Log ( www.charles.mckeithan.org ) and a barely duct taped together personal web site ( www.charlesmck.com ).
But my proudest accomplishment has always been my wife of ten years and my Children:
Sandy has a Masters degree in human development and works as a director for the YWCA in their parent education department. She has always been a quiet counterpoint to my search for the center stage spotlight and a worth opponent in any battle of wits.
Avery is a brilliant eight year old that reads at the level of a 16 year old, but writes like a second grader. He is somewhat shy and slow to warm up to people. He takes his mothers lead in social situations, preferring to watch from the side lines rather than draw attention from the crowd. He has great comic timing and black belt in Karate. Official diagnosed with ADD, he is struggling daily with the effort to stay on task. With each day comes new successes and fewer defeats than the day before.
Connor is six and ready to take over the universe as soon as we are ready to relinquish it to him. He has a vibrant personality and is his fathers son when it comes to the love of the spotlight. Every day is a challenge keeping up with his latest passion or newest plot, and whoa betide the person who tries to stand in his way. I frequently find myself argueing with him. A feat that, though my wife insists will lead to only his victory, envelopes me with the desire to win at all costs.
Lauryn is the third child in a family of diverse personalities and at 17 months, is already blooming into her own nich. She has her father wrapped around her little finger and the rest of the family in the palm of her hand. The wife loves having a little more estrogen around the house, but the boys have already included her in dinner table burp contests and she is not shy about wading into the daily tangle of limbs that wrestles it's way through our house.
Posted by cmckeithan at 02:50 AM | Comments (1)
May 05, 2005
Posted by cmckeithan at 11:28 PM | Comments (0)
April 10, 2005
Joe Willard wishs kidlit a Happy Birthday
"In your copious spare time..."
she began her email.
She knows all about my copious spare time becuase the aniversery of when I began to work on a one week bathroom remodel project is comming up in a few months. I just need to fix one leak and the floor tiles...and some base board......
So when she asked "could you fit in a little acting gig for me"?, I could little refuse. Beth will not ask for something unless she really wants it, or needs it. She is not frivolous. Besides, it being an acting gig made it tempting all by itself. Add to that the challenge of live improvisational role play and I was all ears.
Armed with an apple in one hand, and a copy of "Les Trois Mousquetaires" in the other, I approached the cottage reciting a breif list of facts regarding my Character.
Joe Willard.
defended betsy's essay about apple blossoms being rosey when the teacher accused her of being too flowery
Betsy met him at his Uncles Shop when he was twelve. He was eating an apple and reading a copy of "The Three Musketeers".
Independent
intelligent.
beat her in an essay contest Soph and Jr years
she won in Senior year
they Dated, then had a break up
she went to europe and when she returned they married.
he worked in the store, wheat feilds, as a reporter, then joined the army.
I had gleaned all this from a brief summary of all Twelve books in the Betsy-Tacy series by Maud Hart Lovelace. And now I was about to face my audience. Joe would be attending a tea in honor of his wife's birthday. And everyone in the room knew more about Joe and his wife than I did.
The tingling thrill of terror that lingered as I stepped up to the table full of finger sandwichs and chocolate mini-cakes is, I think, what replaces my need, as a teenager, to steal stoplights and fire hydrants. The rush of risking getting outright busted in the act.
I faced my inquisitioners. A lovelier tribunal could never have been assembled. They ranged in age from 8 to middle aged, and the twinkle in their eyes matched the smiles on there faces.
I had a sudden flashing sense of what it must be like to play Santa, and the first kid was about to ask if I was really santa and to prove it by telling him what he had asked me for last year.
Thankfully, they were far kinder than that. The introduction came from one of those in on my invitation, the rest did not know that Joe was joining them for tea.
Apple blossoms....say something about apple blossoms.
before my lips could move, one of them handed me a small handful of apple blossoms and pronounced a rememberance of my foundness for them. One item off my short list of "things I know about Joe", but I was able to dovetail it into a brief discussion of my ire at Mr Gaston the teacher who disliked Betsy's Writting.
Impressive, believable, well done.
too well done
Under the assumtion that I obviously knew my stuff, the comments and questions began to fly. I was able to parry most questions with brief answers based half in knowledge and half in phylosophic retoric that could have come from Joe or Charles with no line drawn between them. Helpful leading questions came from Beth next to me that lead me in the right direction or steered me back on course.
I was asked about what I thought of (enter name of character I dated but cant remember now here) and when I gave a nonplussed answer the follow up question was what was it like concidering she was a twin?
Charles briefly took over and with a devilish smile made a slightly sugestive comment about mens day dreams about dating a twin. Beth dove to recover as she pointed out that the other twin was a boy.
Somehow it all dovetailed back though when it turned out that Betsy had dated the boy and..........
Well it's really all a bit of a blur. The hardest comeback was the lemon pie.
One of the ladies nodded at a minerature lemon pie and grinned as she said" we have those in honor of you".
Pregnant Puase you could run a herd of rabid accountants through.
"Oh yes" I replied and nodded with a knowing smile of found memories long past. "Thank you" no really you shouldn't have awww shucks....
I looked at Beth....
HHHEEELLLLLLP MEEEEEEEEEEE!
She looked back at me. And just smiled.
somewhere in my subconcious, the little elf that keeps my files in order was yanking open drawers and rifling through cabinets, He tripped over a cruppled note that said "after married life, Betsy had to make alot of ajustments to the chores of cooking and housekeeping"
I lept out into the black....
"Yes, Betsy had quiet a time with that didn't she"?
oh please she did din't she?!!?!?!?
Apparently she did. They were satisfied with that answer.
And so the afternoon went, a dueling stretch for the mind that left me well satified and the ladies all seems pleased enough that Joe had made a passing grade in his attendance.
We all left the garden with smiles, and for that I must thank Beth, and all the ladies of the Tea.
And Now I have to go find these books and start reading them myself, becuase I NEED TO KNOW what the story is about the lemon pie......
Posted by cmckeithan at 11:03 PM | Comments (2)
April 07, 2005
Three Plugs No Leaks
Plug One
What did the Butler See? Your friend and or associate Charles McKeithan running around trying to cover up the good doctor’s indescresions. To name the ill chosen activities of Dr. Prentice would be to give info on the plot, so I will leave it to saying that this production is a combination of Three’s Company meets Monty Python.
Info on tickets can be found here:
http://www.cltc.org/
I hope you all get a chance to come by and see it!
The Metro’s opinion can be found here
http://www.metroactive.com/papers/metro/03.30.05/butler-0513.html
San Jose Merc was not as impressed but had more disagreement with the acting descisions that with the quality of work.
http://www.siliconvalley.com/mld/mercurynews/entertainment/columnists/karen_dsouza/11294468.Last chance will be on April 23rd so don’t delay.
Plug Two
The YWCA is running a benefit called Walk a mile in her shoes. It’s a benefit to raise about rape and sexual violence. The walk is in downtown San Jose on Wednesday the 20th at 5:00. Some of you have experience walking in heels (Right Kit?) others may want to give it a Try (Come on TY you know it would be fun) and the rest of you may want to opt out from such sillyness but support the cause by sponsoring me. Contact me if you fall into any of the three categories and we can coordinate the details. For sponsers, just give me a number and we can work out the details later. The Website for more info or to get involved without me playing middle man is below:
Plug Three
We have Kittens. Four of them. They are coming up on three weeks old, so we have another seven weeks before we need to have solid homes. We have three possibles, but want enough prep time to be sure that they go to homes that really want them.
Thanks for taking a minute to read this, Love to all…….
Charles
Posted by cmckeithan at 11:33 PM | Comments (0)
March 27, 2005
in a nut shell
"Jesus led a good life in a wicked world to prove we could too.
He died and rose again, to prove we could do that too."
Paul Harvey
would that allpreaching could keep it that simple. I would love to see and post a similiar short hand for all the worlds religions. Send them my way.
Posted by cmckeithan at 11:43 PM | Comments (0)
February 22, 2005
Favorite Quote of the Day
"This idea that we are going to attack Iran is just ridiculous! Now, having said that, all options ARE on the table....."
G.W. Bush
Posted by cmckeithan at 11:10 PM | Comments (2)
February 17, 2005
I was never "Exactly" Popular
Perhaps its just my revenge on the world, but I was not always as self engrandizing and down right sexy. No No No, believe it or not, I was far from it as a kid.....
Posted by cmckeithan at 01:24 AM | Comments (1)
February 14, 2005
only the second level? guess the elevator got stuck...
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
| Level | Score |
|---|---|
| Purgatory (Repenting Believers) | Low |
| Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 2 (Lustful) | Extreme |
| Level 3 (Gluttonous) | Low |
| Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) | Very Low |
| Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) | Low |
| Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) | Very Low |
| Level 7 (Violent) | High |
| Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) | Very High |
| Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) | Low |
Take the Dante's Inferno Test
Posted by cmckeithan at 12:23 AM | Comments (2)
February 13, 2005
a long way to go for a bowl of ice cream
flour
salt
eggs
whipping cream
milk
sugar
real vanilla extract
boil it mix it stir it chill it whip it dump it in the pot.
two hours later.....
two inchs of ice layered with half a cup of rock salt. Repeat
repeat
repeat
dont peek
repeat.
I cant hear a damn thing your saying...this machine is tooo loud.
I SAID TURN OF THE ICECREAM MAKER AND MOVW IT OUTSIDE>>>ITS TOOO LOUD!!
fourty minutes later.....
Want some?
Heaven.
Posted by cmckeithan at 11:18 PM | Comments (1)
January 27, 2005
What the Butler Saw......
Performing at San Jose City Lights
Written by
Joe Orton
Directed by
TBD
Featuring
TBD
Showing
Thursdays through Sundays,
March 24 to April 23, 2005
Curtain
8 pm – Thursdays through Saturdays,
7 pm – Sundays
Tickets
Friday Preview: $17 Gen, $15 Sr, $13 St/Ed
Gala Opening: $28 Gen, $26 Sr, $26 St/Ed
Thurs/Sun: $20 Gen, $18 Sr, $13 St/Ed
Fri/Sat: $24 Gen, $22 Sr, $13 St/Ed
Group discounts are available; please call the Box Office for details.
"A comedy classic of English Literature!" -Sunday Telegraph
"It dazzles ... toying with words as if they were firecrackers!" -The New York Times
Meet Dr. Prentice, a psychiatrist whose attempts at extramarital seduction are blown off course by the unexpected arrival of his wife, who has just returned from a sexual whirlwind of her own. The not-so-good doctor's office soon becomes the center of a storm of confusion, accusations, and mistaken identities as the stingily literate husband and wife try to hide the paramours from one another. A dizzy comic tale of impropriety from the wicken pen of one of Britain's most infamous and highly-acclaimed playwrights.
PS. I get to be the Doctor!!!!
Posted by cmckeithan at 10:56 PM | Comments (1)
Preparing to return home
My carry-on is tucked neatly under the seat in front of me and the bag of overpriced gifts for the kids is wedged next to me on the seat .
802 5422 11mph west
Time speed alt
807 133 1396
808 192 1572
808 202 6244
808 264 7803
809 291 8266
809 319 10207
810 344 12257
811 380 14226
811 390 14789
811 406 15887
812 410 18349
812 410 19145
So now we are airborne to the extreme. Amazing that within the flicker of the second hand we find our selves floating on resistant air, a hugely heavy pile of steal and plastic that like the bumble bee simple chooses to ignore the fact that there is no particularly good reason why it should not plummet to the ground.
And yet I seem to have lost the thrill of the event. Years of flying with my father in the military gave me a birds eye view of the earth from the age of six. Now the only time I get that unquestionable tingle in the pit of my stomach is when the pockets of air remind me that I am in fact floating at the mercy of nature and the trust in physics and an underpaid technician that makes sure the flaps are secure and the plane is in fact gassed up to go.
Our next contestant on the Charles Mckeithan show, is an unassumingly beautiful woman with an open air of comfort. She is probably in her mid thirties but at a glance would still be carded in the hotel bar. But only at a glance. A second look at her shows that she has seen a great deal of the world and carried the burdens of others on her shoulders. The evidence is not physical. Her skin is smooth and her smile is unmarred by the failures of elasticity. But there is a shadow that flirts behind her smile.
Her entire presence offers up an aura of strength. And I suspect that she has no idea that it is there, much less that it shows.
825
A small opening of pleasant talk assures her that I am neither an overbearing bore, nor a bothersome sex starved jerk who still believes that those letters in penthouse forum are all true, and that after ten minutes of talk he can get her into the confines of the restroom for a little hump and thrust before fading off the plane to his wife and kids. She is returning home from business, though she seldom travels far. When she gets to the terminal there will be no-one waiting.
She has no bag of overpriced giftoids.
Yet she is fairly certain that she likes it this way. She states her status of singlehood without the overcharge of one who must prove a point, nor with the meek underlay of fear that she may be that way for ever. She simple is single at this time.
She asks questions. Lots of them. But none that are pointless chit chat. Open ended questions that require thought and introspection. Already, she is someone who's evaluation of my answer is of concern and I would sooner give a thoughtful reply than be mistaken for anything less than my best.
8:34 469mph 40668alt
The flight attendants have wheeled past with the three ton drink cart that could flatten a grown man if the breaks gave out. I take a sip of my scotch on ice, She rolls her ice cubes around her diet pepsi and begins another round of questions.
8:43 477 49642
We are in the early boundaries of Utah.
Her aura of strength is confirmed as she talks of how she should have been a bartender. People with problems seem to flock to her. Strangers looking for comfort. Good friends who know her advice will comfort, her shoulder will hold tears well, and her couch is always ready for a wayward guest in need of a roof. And yet in her frenetic flow of goodness, I can already see the chink in her smooth and shining armor. It is the weakness of all strong people who stand firm and steady in a see of wobbly friends. There are few she can turn to herself. Few whom she can admit her own weaknesses to. How does one speak of fears and doubts to those who want you to be their strength.
Eye contact is hard to maintain when
8:49 495mph 40725 somewhere over Richfield Utah.
Your nose is almost pressed into the seat of the man in front of you who believes that if he thrusts all 240 lbs of his frame against the chair, it WILL yield an extra three quarters of an inch of space to breath.
Yet she almost demands it as we speak.
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Turbulence, but mild. Like riding on a road with small but frequent potholes.
" I did do something a little crazy a few months back though...."
She has a secret, that she has been wanting to tell someone. A stranger on an airplane is perhaps the perfect sort.
The result is best told as its own story because somehow, as she tells it, it becomes real in my mind. I can see the images and am in tune with the heroine of the story. I have perhaps been in her shoes and done a similar thing.
We are in tune.
I wasn’t able to take notes of all she said because the best conversations are not to be interrupted by split attention. Never look away from your dance partner is my motto, and when someone is sharing a secret, it is indeed a dance. She is trusting me with a thought that she is not offering to the world. Trusting me to understand. To not laugh and certainly not to brush off as idle chit chat.
9:06 493mph 40800 the border of Utah is as black as the approaching border of Nevada. we are due north of Cedar City
9:23 500mph 40768
As much of Nevada is behinds in front
A trip to the Ritz Carlton
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Fasten your seat belts please
Something inside her clicked. Our perhaps it snapped. But in a moment of self realization, she had been working hard to meet deadlines, schedule her clients, fill in for her absence staff, working late , working early, and in what little time she was not at work or working at home, she was juggling the nervous breakdowns of her friends and family.
Enough is enough. In the blink of a thought, she hit the turn signal and rapidly made her way off the freeway and under then around to the opposite direction of responsibility. The phone lit up and before it could warble an electronic rendition of " the marriage of Figaro" she had snapped the power button and tossed it to the passenger floorboard. The first urge had been to send it out across the center divider of the freeway. Back to the land of the responsible where at five miles an hour, the dutiful crept home to get back to working on those reports that were due in the morning whether dinner had been cooked or not. But this was not a forsaking of her life, it was an instant vacation that was needed for immediate mental survival.
The Shopping District was full of the broad range of usuals. The pretty girls who thought they were not, the ugly girls who wanted to be pretty while hating the desire, the drop dead gorgeous girls, who knew it. And the ever present backdrop of man flesh trying with varying degrees of success to look at all those tits while making it look like they were looking at the eyes.
She melted seamlessly through the crowd , somehow, a spectator to this cattle call without being drawn into it at all. A flash of red caught her attention and as she looked up into the storefront window, there was no question. A mischievous and some might say dangerous grin lit her face and she entered. No need to try it on, from hanger to bag to body it would go and yes it would be exactly what she needed.
Into the Ritz, without a reservation or reservations, she took her key and her one shopping bag, and headed for the elevator. The dangerous grin had slipped away and was now taking up residence in her eyes. The briefest of thoughts crossed her mind that her inbox was likely already full of trouble but the current persona would have none of this talk of work. Tomorrow would dawn and she would go back to that other existence. But this was a whole different life, if for just awhile.
A Luxurious bath and enough steam to fill two suites shuffled off the last nagging tensions of the day week life she had been dealt, and the only tension that remained was a nervous tickle in her abdomen telling of what might come next and anticipating it with glee. Like a child with a sparkler in one hand and a match in the other. Fear warring with Fun.
The dress glided over her naked skin like a glove. A perfect fit.
Somewhere, the good little angel on her right shoulder was trying to tell her that in that body glove of a dress she looked very much like a woman looking for trouble and that she should at least wear something underneath it.
Somewhere, the devil on her left shoulder was stuffing her bra and panties down the good little angels big mouth.
She ate a full five course meal at a cocktail table in the bar. She savored it. Slowly. Every bite was it’s own and each swallow brought more mellow fire to warm her intentions. Her eyes played with the men in the room. Daring them to see past the dress. They were unfit for the challenge.
Dessert was held at the bar, giving them one last chance to make a move. She would not let her standards down for an instant, they had to meet the mark or die trying. So much of her life and her job was about making concessions to other peoples weakness, making them feel better about themselves. Tonight, she felt good about her. And there would be no concession. Conversations played through the evening with men in tired suites with tan lines that gave away the telltale absence of a left fingered ring. Every line was a line, every joke and old chestnut. Yet it was so utterly not within her “otherlife” that each lie was a fascination, each come on an unexpected joy.
But here gentle reader is where our camera pans back from the scene and fades to a wide shot of the hotel as the sun rises on an early checkout as our heroine heads back to the daily grind. What happened in the latest hours of that night were not for the ears of even a father confessor stranger on a plane. We are left with our own fantasies of red dresses draped across the floor and mysterious strangers exploring each others secrets, for beyond that, she would not share and I could not ask.
We drifted into small talk again and then into comfortable silence. I will miss my new found friend.
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We nose into California the plane is no longer tipped up. A mild gravity pulls us forward as we tilt back gently to earth
940 496 38476
941 496 38017
942 503 37124 Fresno is below
493 503 36075
945 505 33025 myears are pressing inward.
946 466 29550
948 473 29525
951 463 25903 We are flying over highway 99
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915 415 18255
the greater bay area
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959 99 directlybelow us
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1001 392 13154
1002 389 12642
1007 337 9499
1008 297 8372
1009 295 7054
1010 272 5856
1011 238 5005
1012 221 3454
1012 213 2665
1013 gear down
1014 209 2134
1015 167 1614
1015 161 1399
1015 157 942
1016 149 156
1016 td
1016 140 33
1017 25 33
and remain seated until the ride has passed the red arrow.
Posted by cmckeithan at 12:24 AM | Comments (1)
January 26, 2005
New feature , now my blog comes to you!
Tired of checking my blog, only to be met with last years entry? well, now you can wait for my blog to check with you.
I figured out the notify feature so if you are not already on my notify list, but would like to be, send me an email at charles@charlesmck.com. Thanks
Posted by cmckeithan at 10:21 PM | Comments (0)
telepathic blog failure
Okay....so the whole telepathic blog experiment was a total failure. so ........back to the old fashion method
Posted by cmckeithan at 09:58 PM | Comments (0)