I was in New Orleans this week on business and met with a collegue who was born and raised there. I felt incredibly lucky touring the French Quarter with this woman, who seemed to have a memory for every corner we approached, and who nearly smacked my hands when I attempted to extract the meat from the wrong end of a crawfish.
Also, quite randomly, I nearly walked into Evelyn Rodriguez on Royal Street. She wasn't there for the conference; she was just traveling and looking for a place to eat. This, by the way, is a coincidence of seismic proportions; I am used to seeing Evelyn at most of the conferences that I attend in the Bay Area, but not halfway across the country by accident.
Sorry, I digress. My Cajun companion, Lisa LaCour of AOL, had come to New Orleans earlier in the week and decided to spend the rest of her time in a hotel, not with her parents.
"It's just better that way," she said.
"Yes," I said to Lisa. "Family can be distracting."
"Mine keeps me out all night," she said. "I need to stay at a hotel so that I can sleep." I wasn't expecting that.
I would opt for a hotel in order to keep Church and State separate. It's been difficult coming to Chicago and being in head-down work mode. My family struggles to understand why I can't sit down for even ten minutes of Trivial Pursuit. For the most part my family totally gets that when I am home for a business trip I am stopping in and likely not spending quality time with them. This last time I was in Chicago my meeting was in the Near North Suburbs, about 15 minutes away from my Mom's house.
"How perfect!" Mom said. "You can take the Buick to your meeting."
This, by the way, was a very generous offer, but it held a lot of baggage for me. Growing up, we never had cool cars. Sometimes we didn't even have working cars. This stems from a deep-seated disdain of my father's for anything new. Whatever the reason, it was terribly embarassing. Imagine having to drive to parties in a Custom Cruiser. Some would say I'm a middle class spoiled brat--at least I had a car to borrow. To that I say, fair enough.
"I can't do that Mom," I said. "I can't drive the Buick to my meeting." The Buick, by the way, is a 90s model Century Ltd. that had seen better days with its original owners. My Dad got a good deal on the car back at his job at a Buick dealership. There was nothing wrong with it, per se, but it called up a past that I vowed never to recreate of having cars that I was afraid to parallel park.
Suddenly my Mom took on a tone that was reminiscent of my high school days, "What? Do you think anyone CARES what you are driving to the meeting?"
"Yes I do. I think the world cares. I think this is an issue of critical, world-changing importance."
"You're full of it."
I looked over at my brother, who had been kind enough to pick me up from the airport.
"Joe, can I borrow your Vibe?"
"I thought you didn't like Pontiacs."
"That was before I was faced with the alternative of driving a Buick."
"What time is your meeting?"
"10 am."
"Ummm no."
"Where's the closest car-rental place?"
"Don't be silly, Jory. Take the Buick!"
The next morning I took a few minutes to acquaint myself with the Century Ltd. I drive a little Jetta normally and needed to acclimate myself to having more car, much the way I would need to acclimate to waking up with my chest two bra sizes bigger. What can I say, it would be disorienting! My Mom and I are nearly the same height--did she drive on her tippy toes? I pulled the seat closer toward the steering wheel. The automatic gear shifter was to the right of the steering wheel--a peeve I've had about all of my parents' cars.
"Hun," Mom said from the street. "The turn signal is a little quirky. If you don't turn it just right you activate the windshield wipers." I signalled right and saw what she meant.
Mom said, "I'm not sure how the car is on the highway. I haven't driven it there." To my mother any Interstate is like merging onto hell and to be avoided at all costs. Hence the reason my brother picks me up from airports, and why getting places with my family takes twice as long as it does other people--they take only side streets. I worried about this car; for years it had been driven at 35 miles per hour. Would I try to gun it on the expressway and lose the engine?
"Wish me luck," I said.
"Hun," Mom said. "I think you'll survive."
HAAAAAA, HAAAAAA....that is SOOOO funny....NOT!
Rebuttal:
First of all I drive a lot faster than 35 MPH sweetie. I may be old...but I'm not a relic...yet.
Secondly, that car is 10 years old...it runs perfectly fine....on side streets, highways...or expressways. Never lost an engine yet. My not liking to drive on expressways is a personal quirk...don't blame my poor car.
Thirdly, I don't remember you coming home and telling me that hoards of people swarmed around you in the parking lot when you pulled up..aghast at the artifact you were driving; or maybe I missed that part in our hurry to get you back to the airport for the next leg of your trip. Hmmmm...so glad your meeting went so well with all those people since I'm sure your mind must have been partially distracted worrying whether that old rattletrap would get you home in one piece...in time to get you out the door to the airport. Will wonders never cease? (Good thing I love you so damn much.)
Yes, we've had some strange cars in our time....in your time, certainly more family kind of cars than cool and sporty; but they sure came in handy for toting all of you kids, your gear, and all your friends around from place to place during all of those very busy and involved school years. Wouldn't you agree?
The last time I had a brand new car was when your dad and I first got married. If I remember correctly, it wasn't long after that we had MUCH better things to spend our money on. I'd love a brand new car, and who knows, someday it may happen; but I won't die if it doesn't. Maybe a little of your dad rubbed off on me over 37 years. Yikes, watch out sweetie...you may be next in line for the fallout.
Posted by: Joy | April 22, 2007 at 03:00 PM
Jory - great post!
I totally understand the family / travel / work dynamic.
Tomorrow I am actually leaving for Bermuda for a "working vacation" with my husband. I have a feeling that it will be very hard to get actual work done with the tugging on the sleeves I know I am in for.
Generally, I travel for business on my own and this will be the first time I am traveling and working with him. I hope I don't come home with any horror stories for my blog ;)
Thanks for sharing!
Erin
Posted by: Erin Blaskie | April 22, 2007 at 08:17 PM
Hi Jory,
I hope you spent a nice time in New Orleans. I stayed in Boston those days and it was simply wonderful. By the way, a friend of mine told me the people from Chicago are lovely people, very kind, indeed.
I also avoid as much as I can driving in long trips, let alone through big cities and the like. I prefer public transport. This is quite an unusual way of seing things, I know, but it works for me.
Posted by: Felix Gerena | April 26, 2007 at 12:35 AM
There's nothing like other people's stories to make you realize you're not alone in having crazy family. I find the trouble with business and family is that it's hard to simultaneously be a business professional and "hun."
Posted by: Sherri | April 26, 2007 at 07:34 PM
Jory,
I hope you had a good time in my home town!
CL
Posted by: Christien Louviere | May 23, 2007 at 11:20 AM
Hi,
You have a cool blog here. Thanks a tonne for sharing this useful info and hope to read more from you.
Posted by: Paul Adams | July 13, 2008 at 06:00 AM
Well, a Buick is a strong car, even if it is a little old. Anyway, your family can be a bit of a distraction during a business trip. But they can help support your during that trip.
Posted by: Tari Ledsome | November 11, 2011 at 07:04 AM