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| Renowned author Michael Herr is back guest-blogging on this awesome Aloha Friday talking about mother nature and the need to go! Make sure and check out Michael's website at; http://www.michaelherr.com/ |
ALOHA FRIDAY-"No Work 'Til Monday" Sorry, I gotta go!
Aloha folks.
I have an obsession with toilets. I always need to know where the nearest one is. When we go to a museum or art gallery or a shopping mall, I try to find a map of the place first. So that I can locate the toilets.
I think my obsession began when I was about five or six years old. My mother and I were taking a walk through the neighborhood, when she stopped, as she often did, to gossip with a neighbor whose house was about three houses away from ours. And she talked. And she talked. And she talked.
I got more and more restless and finally realized why. I needed to use the toilet. I started shifting from one foot to another. I started shuffling around in little circles. I began tugging on my mother's sleeve or her skirt. I started making soft little noises. Not a clue. Finally I started whining, "Mom. Mom! Gotta go! I gotta go!"
"Just a minute came her response," and she continued talking.
Finally, with tears beginning to run down my cheeks, she exasperatedly gave up on her conversation and, holding my hand, let me drag her toward our house.
Never made it. About halfway there my bladder let loose. Which wouldn't have been all that bad . . . except for the fact that I was wearing corduroy pants, with vertical ridges. Wet corduroy pants make a horrible smacking sound was you try to walk in them. And they stick to your inner thighs. I was chafed within minutes. When my mother noticed she was angry that I "couldn't just hold it another minute".
A sidelight . . . I have noticed over the years that women can hold it for hours and hours, maybe even days. Men . . . much less so.
Anyhow, from that day on I always made it a point to keep track of the nearest toilet . . . and to use that toilet even if I didn't really feel a desperate urge. In fact, I still make it a point not to get to that stage where I have a 'desperate urge'.
Another sidelight . . . because of this experience, now many years later I am a one-eyed flier. When I get on an airplane I observe everything through one eye, while with the other eye I constantly watch the toilet on the aircraft. Particularly I watch that small lighted sign that says either "Occupied" or "Vacant".
When the toilet on the aircraft that I'm on is "Vacant", it won't be for long.
So folks, here I come. Sorry, but I gotta go.
See you next week.
Hana Hou, (Encore) Shared from Facebook...
check out Michael's website at http://www.michaelherr.com/
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