Saturday, September 20, 2008

Violinist, Brake Pads and Listeriosis

Violinist and Med Student Friend traveled to the Maritime provinces. They spent a smokin’ hot Friday night in Montreal changing brake-pads on Med Student’s car. Saturday night, they called, “Please, look up places to sleep.” But they managed to hit camp on their own in a Wal-Mart parking lot. Next morning, they phoned again, “Please, look up second-hand shops in Moncton.” Violinist forgot pots and dishes.

“We have food, Mom, just nothing to eat it with.”

Violinist is funny that way. He forgets things. Like his shoes in the middle of winter. No kidding. He forgets to eat sometimes. He thinks about wine. He thinks about his violin. Except for the time he forgot his violin on his way to a gig. He thinks about his Ginger Dog, rest her soul. He thinks about his girlfriend. He’d thought about what was wrong with Med Student Friend’s car and bought new brake-pads. And then drove another four hundred miles before thinking to change them.

And because he is a violinist, he knows how to fix cars. Really? How’s that related? Another time.

By the time I got back to them, they were wandering around a Zellers looking for a cooking pot.

"Hi, it’s your Mom. Listen, don’t eat any processed meat, Okay? More people are sick and died. What are you guys doing?”

"Well, we couldn't find a place to sleep last night but we noticed some trailers bunched up in Wal-mart. We just pulled up with them and went to sleep. Now we need pots. Are there any junk stores here?"

"Yes, Ernestina found you junk stores."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, you're too young."

"Listeri-what?"

"Listeriosis. Five people have died."

"Holy Moly! What about fresh meat and we cook it ourselves?"

"Violinist, you are in the Maritimes. Eat fish.”

“Hey Mom, how are you, today? It’s Violinist. So, yeah, we are in Prince Edward Island. Oh, we took the bridge. We slept looking out over the water. This morning, we walked about 2 km out on the flats. We’re going to go visit a winery. And then we’re going to go deep-sea fishing. Oh, lunch? I was just about to eat a hotdog.”

No comments: