Lola's Salon

It's past my bedtime, but tell us what you fly and where you go. I'll check in tomorrow.
Good night Gracie.

Gracie winks and appreciates the nod from mmediane! Oh - wait! This is actually cobalt. Hmmmm, just off on a tangent somewheres along the lines of what was it anyway that Jack Benny used to do to signal his wife at the end of each TV show? Gosh, I remember the Carol Burnett nose twitch, but the Benny thing - that was a memorable one.

Cobalt has spent the night at the cybercafe and is looking to curl up with two dogs. Yes, it may be Phoenix, but it is still a "two dog night", ha ha!

<Cobalt now has second and third thoughts about submitting such a straight line to the Salon riff raff....>

Confused, jes instructs Carol (or shall we say, Insta-Carol), "So, you have the Franjistan Contract and the Jicama Futures Agreements?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Now, go and fly off. I have a date with Bill Dana or maybe it's Tom Poston or that guy Mr. Carlin and I need to be at my best, so I want to finish work early. Shoo!"

jes leaves, wondering how an Insta-secretary could suddenly have insta-dates with stars of '60s and '70s television.

HofT, who has slept in the airplane hangar by the stables behind Lola's townhouse from fear that a typo by Stradee might yet turn her beautiful F-117 Wobbly Goblin into a F-1, steps outside to see whether Timber's tow truck is in the driveway. Not yet. While waiting she calls the manufacturer:

"Grumman."
"Hi, can you put me through to your F-117 decorating department?"
"Decorating?"
"Yes - just got one of your planes and have trouble accessorizing that muddy shade on the outside. Don't you have metallic silver?"
"Ma'am, we could rustle up some, I guess, but it wouldn't be stealthy if you painted it metallic silver."
"Well, what's this shade called? I have to tell my couturier in Paris."
"Sorry ma'am, the name is classified. So is the paint, and the reflection factor of the sunglasses you got as a free gift with your purchase."
"I see - sorry I asked. Goodbye."
"Thank you for calling, ma'am."

Still waiting for tow truck, HofT checks TDWR (Terminal Doppler Weather Radar), turns on jet engine anti-ice, and looks up in the manual power settings for turbulence penetration airspeed; VIP (Video Integrator Processor) shows thunderstorm with tops 35,000 feet or higher, scale 6.

Calls out to Jespah apology about electromagnetic interference from all those radar operations causing malfunction in her secretary's memory <G>

'Scorpion, what do you think of that mess out there? danon asked. It looks to me more like a big chunk of chocolate more than anything.' They were both in the stables looking out at HofT sitting in the Goblin.
'Well, boss - I tend to agree with ya on that. Are they sure that thing will actually fly?' replied Scorpion.
It must - they flew it in earlier, we all had to duck for cover.

Cobalt, I don't remember the Jack Benny signal, but I do remember George Burns' "say good night, Gracie." I loved that couple!

HofT you're not thinking of leaving us again are you? So soon? Come inside and have some afternoon breakfast and relax for a while.

Jes, that secretary is making a little buzzing sound............I think she may need a repairman.

Stradee...............join us for breakfast, pleeeeeeeease

Thanks, Lola, but think I better fly off for now and join you for drinks one evening later this week. LOL at Danon's comment about the shape of my Wobbly Goblin - going through accumulated mail (mostly bills) that arrived over the holiday and just came across an invitation from my Aeroclub to a show at Hanscom Field to celebrate a hundred years from the Wright brothers' flight at Kitty Hawk. It's a sobering thought - one hundred years... There are people alive today who were alive then!

<this profound thought having just about exhausted HofT's reserves of philosophy, she takes off, wiggles her wings once to say goodbye to Lola and Salon habitues, and flies into a heading of 270, straight into the storm <G>>

Hi Ms HoT , intones c.i., how you been? Any travels lately? Oh wow, please excuse my manners . Can I treat you to a drink? I've been absent for awhile, but it's because this time of year keeps our household quite busy. We're also getting ready to have our annual party at our place this weekend, so it's been rather hectic. Ooops, there goes the phone. Please excuse me..... c.i.

Did you already have the party, c.i.? Or is it today? Good luck.

And we'll look forward to your return, HofT when you can.....
I think I'll just sit here in my very messy study and write those reports with an absolute deadline of this coming week (Tues, Wed and Thursday.) Making a big mess in study........not getting dressed...in robe, slippers and tossled hair. So, please.......nobody look.

Lola, With my "no workweek" schedule, it's always the weekends for me! I meant to say, next weekend. ;* c.i.

Well Gracie for Burns, and somebody for Burnett, and I think it was Mary for Benny. I just KNOW he said or did something to say hello to his wife each night as the show closed.

Anyhoo, I shall be back in later to quaff a qwaff or whatever is handy. I'm off to see a radical in town give a lecture! Now, this could seem amazing, but when you consider that in Arizona, a leftist would be an ACLU member... Do ya think I should borrow a flak jacket from HofT or someone else to attend a lecture by the Exec. Director for the state? Hmmmmm, cobalt thinks she shall dress to blend in with the crowd....

Lola's Salon
Hi Lola ~ sorry I'm late for breakfast. Borrowed Hoft's F -117 to cheer 49ers last minute of football game. We won! "Hoft, do ya mind if I Stealth to Tampa next Sunday? Promise to fly at the speed of sound or better
and promise not to miss appointment with Pepe the Paris fabric guy <who by the way has an in with classified Stealth painters and promises to bring color
swatches>".

Jes, tell secretary the best remedy for eletromagnetic jolt is a tall glass of Kalua, preferably with a bit of half and half <or soy milk> also good when football team produces, in the last few seconds of game, apaplexy

Stradee waves a good night to all.......

jes hands Insta-Carol some soy milk and an oil can. "Ah, a milk shake! My favorite!" exclaims the insta-secretary. She downs a combination of the two while jes looks on in amazement.

"Oh, um, sorry. My apologies for staring. Now, did Mr. Carlin behave himself last night, or didja have to give him an insta-slap?"

Lola's Salon
Stradee says "good morning" and offers Lola and Jes coffee delivered from dear friend returning from her visit from Jamaica. Nothing like caffein to ward off affects of Sunday football festivities.

Insta/sec looking pale after milkshake/ Stradee offers coolent. Oh dear, says Stradee ~ Carol's listing.

"Calling HOft ~ repeat/ this is 9147 Mike/ emergency with insta/sec needing
immediate care. Flying experimental jet/ coordinates needed for med intercept"..........

I'll be away for a few days. I'll check back in when I can.

But, Lola, have you assigned a temporary manager while you're gone? c.i.

Sorry, c.i., Withers, Fifi and Jeffers are in charge. Make yourselves at home. I'll see you all when I can. Sorry for the absense.

Friday afternoon, around 3:30 I walked out of the courthouse on Centre St in lower Manhattan, an all day affair, I was beat, and it was all for nothing. A big joke. It was snowing out and getting dark but refreshing to be outside at last. Six hours in there because someone ratted me out, for spite, but it's done, it's over. I just wanted to head for home, to Lola's but only had $25 in my pocket and that wasn't enough for a cab ride and a few drinks, which I really needed at this point. I wasn't sure if Lola would run a tab for me again as I was slow paying the last one off.

I decided I'd walk and save the money. So I headed up Centre St to Grande Street, the snow falling harder and just covering the sidewalks enough to make it hard to walk and make good time, wind blowing strong right in my face. I took a right on Grande St to Bowery and headed up 2nd Ave. I knew I'd never make it to Lola's in this weather walking, I was soaked and chilled to the bone despite my leather jacket, and I was tired. I hailed a cab at the corner of Houston St and told the driver to drop me on the corner of 11th St and avenue A, I could walk to the 11th St bar from there and Lola's later on if I had the energy. It was a short hop for him but I needed to get out of the weather. I threw him a ten spot upfront for a five-dollar ride so I wouldn't have to listen to the moaning and groaning and whining. I was in no mood.

I got out on the corner of A and 11th and walked a few doors down to the pub and ran up the steps for shelter. The place was almost empty, Janey McGonigle was sitting in the corner with her young boyfriend Peter from Galway, arguing as usual, Peter Malloy was sitting at the far end of the bar, big surprise to see him there because he lives in Boston, and John the laborer was sitting a few seats away at the end. It was silent in there, far to quiet but nice. I said hello to all, greetings were passed around as I chose a stool near the window and turned it to face the street so I could watch the snowfall in the dimly lit street of the east village. I ordered a shot of Jameson and a Guinness, a bad combination for me, but I needed to get the chill out of my bones. Jack, the bartender bought the first round, as usual but I paid him just the same, as I know it will come back to me ten times over. After pondering a spell and watching the people walk by, the snow falling, the light fading into darkness I turn my stool around to face the bar again. I see Peter sitting at the far end of the bar very somber and ask what he's doing in Manhattan. He shouted back that he and his father Paddy and another one of the musicians from the Chieftans had just done a benefit concert in Queens for a woman from Ireland who had cancer, a freebie.
I asked him if he had his flute with him and he said "yes Mikey, it never leaves my side, would you like to hear a tune Mikey? you look like you could use one."
I said maybe later, at Lola's.
Lola's? he says....where is that? I said I'll show you the way when you're done with your drink if you want to play and sit a spell in grande style.
And at that very moment, the door opens and Scarlet Rivera and Eileen Ivers walk in, fiddles cases in hand.
The silence is interrupted as more greetings are passed around between Pete and the girls. They sit at a table by themselves, in the back of the pub, order a drink then wander back to the bar after about 5 minutes and begin to talk. Eileen says hey Mikey, long time no see. I say yes, been awhile. Peter says would you like to play tonight?

Meanwhile, back at the salon, the friends are sitting by the fire missing Lola and wanting something to cheer them up. Jes mentions how the Chieftans always cheer her, no matter what her mood at the moment.

Just then, Mikey opens the door and peers into the library with a huge grin on his face. "What would you all like most at this very moment?" Jes looks up and says, "More time!" Peace and Love says, "Another border collie!" Danon says, "The latest prototype from Boeing." Timber says, "An antique WWII DC3." Diane says, "Sorry Mikey, it's private. LOL." Cobalt says, "Well, Mikey, I've been wanting some good music, something like the Chieftans."

Mikey's grin, which had faded up until then, beamed in joy as he said, "Well, guess what? My old friends, Peter, Scarlet and Eileen are here to spread a little joy!"

The room lights up with excitement as each person greets the Cheiftans, offering them a drink which Withers has already anticipated, arriving with a filled tray for the new arrivals.

Suddenly, everyone in the room is Irish. The party begins!

PaL and Jack (super Border Collie) curl up together in the big overstuffed chair, looking forward to hearing some good Irish tunes.

It feels good to be here, in Lola's house.

It feels good to be in New York City.

Earlier, PaL and Jack took a long walk around Central Park. The white snow was brilliant on Jack's shiny black hair. When they needed a break, they sat down on a park bench next to a woman who appeared to be talking to herself. PaL's first thought was, "she's off her meds". The woman was not happy about sharing her bench. She glared at PaL and Jack. She began ranting about people always trying to get into her privacy. PaL thought to herself, "Okey dokey. We're outta here."

When PaL and Jack returned to Lola's house, Withers said that Lola would be away for a couple of days. PaL was sad to hear that. She will miss her friend. Withers reassured her that Lola would soon return.

And now, curled up with her most favorite puppy dog, PaL is anxiously awaiting the Irish tunes.....