My wife, Jayebird, and I had been anticipating our annual trek to Grand Lake CO with relish. The Bird always books our week at the lake during a full moon. Watching that big yellow sphere slowly peeking out over Baldy Mountain and reflecting on the placid waters of "Spirit Lake" is almost ethereal. Finally the moon explodes from behind the pinnacle and bathes the clouds, mountains and water in surrealistic moonbeams. The gentle Meadow Fairies come out of their hiding places and dance in the moonlit mist. They sprinkle magic dust throughout the lunar landscape and romance fills the crisp mountain air. Jayebird and I fall into this magical spell without fail - one week every summer for the last nine years!
We had been under some pressure and couldn’t wait to get out of Pagosa. Even though Pagosa Springs and Grand Lake Village are both quaint little Colorado tourist traps, the change of scenery is like finally coming up for air. We headed out Monday morning and before you could say "thank God we’re out of here" we were stuck in the construction mess on Wolf Creek Pass surrounded by hundreds of bicycle maniacs in bug-like helmets hogging the road and making life miserable for anyone in a motorized vehicle.
Bird reminded me that we were on vacation, so I squelched the urge to shout profanities and go for the gun. At one point, when we got up to a roaring twenty miles an hour, I seriously thought about opening my door all the way and smacking about a dozen or so of these malicious bike boobs and knocking them down like so many dominoes. I took a deep breath and the Rumbelly in me was pacified for the moment only to reemerge at the next construction stop.
The DOT (Damned Old Turkeys) is building a tunnel on the other side of the pass - "Expect 40-minute delays". Jaye and I stopped at the roadblock , turned off the engine and began playing gin. After about fourteen hands nature was calling both of us in a very loud voice. It looked like there was some motion up ahead so we decided to "hold it in" until we got to the rest stop at the bottom of the pass. Finally we were moving once again and we headed for the can. Unfortunately, the cyclists had set up a rest station right by the rest rooms. There were dozens of cross-legged, bug-headed bikers waiting to relieve themselves. Jayebird and I looked at one another and gasped. I could see the panic in her eyes as we sped past the much-anticipated outhouse.
I was wondering if a bladder could actually explode and would death be mercifully quick or would I die a long agonizing death of urine poisoning? The Bird emptied the contents of the little cooler and prepared for the worst. Just then I saw an unoccupied campsite ahead and whipped into the turn-off - just in the nick of time! After a short prayer of thanks we traveled on to the next three roadblocks that we were to encounter.
Finally, after seven hours of idiots tailgating, passing on double lines, speeding, littering, road-hogging, finger-shooting, etc. we pulled up to our cabin on the lake. We had a relaxing dinner and then settled in on the porch to watch the Colorado moon do its magic. The magic worked and Jayebird and I decided to hit the sack early - if you know what I mean.
The next morning the Bird and I strolled over to the Black Bear Bakery and commandeered a table out on the boardwalk. The morning air blowing off the lake was cool and smelled so fresh. I was revitalized! I hadn’t been this relaxed since our winter trip to the Florida Keys. Out on the lake a flotilla of sailboats scurried over the water as a few perfectly restored Chris Craft motorboats, their big finely-tuned V8s humming, cut through the waves. I was at peace with the world. My latte and sweet rolls were perfect. My wife was looking absolutely beautiful that morning, her green eyes smiling at the Universe and me. The travails of the trip the day before had become a memory; all worries of careers and home were a million miles away; no thoughts of financial woes or health problems entered my mind - until I heard that damn voice.
A loud-mouthed woman was on her cell phone castigating one of her flunkies at about 120 decibels. She was off in the bakery somewhere but she was getting louder and louder. Soon a young yuppie girl walked out the door onto the boardwalk and stood right next to our table blaring into her cell. She needed "figures and names’’. She asked in a bitchy voice where the "blankety-blank contracts" were. "Deadlines, deadlines," she yelled. She asked for the SOB’s telephone number, disconnected and immediately dialed it. She continued her tirade with the new victim. Jaye and I looked at each other and shook our heads. I was ready to let it go but the girl kept on and on and on. Our peaceful boardwalk breakfast had turned into a grueling phone conference at the loan office of hell. Here was this otherwise attractive young woman, who was apparently on vacation, raising her blood pressure to dangerous heights and making enemies with everyone in earshot - especially me. I thought about grabbing her insidious cell phone and putting it where the sun don’t shine, but Jayebird, sensing my anger, took my hand and cautioned me with stern eyes. Had I been married to this loud-mouthed dame I would probably be spending the rest of my life in prison for her murder, but what jury in the nation could convict a man for doing what everyone in a one-block radius was thinking?
The businesswoman strutted in and out of the bakery yakking and shouting into her cell. She told her subordinate, Rupert, that she was using her mother’s cell phone and gave him the number. She told him to call her as soon as he got those contracts signed or he’d be looking for a new job. I immediately wrote down the number on a napkin and excused myself. I walked thirty feet to the corner phone booth and sat poised ready to call. I could see this animated creature pacing back and forth on the boardwalk while Jaye held her ears. Finally it happened! She folded up her cell and went inside the bakery. I dialed the number and it rang once. Now I found out how it sounded on the other end of the line - much worse.
"Hello!" She screeched.
"Hello, little darlin’," I growled. "This is Capt. Rumbelly!"
"Rumbelly? I don’t know anybody named Rumbelly. Are you sure you have the right number?"
"Yes indeed," I replied. "I got your number from Rupert. I’m the guy who won that twenty million dollars in the lottery last month...I’m sure Rupert told you about the deal I’m proposing."
I watched the bakery as she walked outside talking on her cell. She stopped and stood right beside my wife.
"Yes, I think I remember Rupert telling me about you, sir. What do you have in mind?"
"Well," I said, "aren’t you up at Grand Lake right now on vacation?"
"Yes," she said.
"Well, Rupert tells me that you’ve been spending most of your vacation on the phone. Is that right?" I asked.
"I guess so, but that’s my business," she rudely replied.
"I’ll bet you’re right outside the Black Bear Bakery, aren’t you?"
"How did you know that?"
I could hear the surprise in her voice as I watched her jaw drop.
"And I’ll bet there’s a pretty woman sitting at a table right in front of you trying to enjoy her breakfast while you blab on your phone. And I’ll bet you’ve been annoying everyone in the whole bakery with your incessant yakking every since you got there. You know, I’ll bet there’s at least one person who would like to wring your neck," I bellowed. "Maybe me!"
"Who is this?" She nervously asked.
"This is Rumbelly and I’m trying my best to be nice because that’s my wife, Jayebird, sitting right in front of you and she doesn’t like me getting angry with people. Say hello to her."
I watched as she looked over at Jaye.
"Is your name Jayebird?"
Jaye looked up at the frightened young woman and smiled.
"Hi," the girl said, "my name’s Tiffany. I’m talking to a guy named Rumbelly. Do you know him?"
Jayebird’s smile contorted into a cold frown. She told this girl in no uncertain terms that she’d better say goodbye and to gather up her people and get the "flock out of Dodge"! And then she pointed to me over at the phone. The cell girl looked over at an angry bearded man covered in tattoos with the phone to his ear.
She gulped and said, "Goodbye, Mr. Rumbelly."
"Goodbye, little darlin’," I purred.
With that she folded her cell phone and rushed into the bakery. She hurried up her parents and her fiance and they all left the bakery never looking back.
When I rejoined my wife we had a good laugh. The rest of our vacation was wonderful! We are home now and I feel so relaxed and refreshed - ready to get back on Pagosa Time. I can’t wait to get the photos back from City Market. Gee, I still have that phone number. Maybe I’ll call up Tiffany’s mom and ask for Tiffany’s work number. You know, just to check up on the poor girl.