911

1.2.2kXIII
Ez and I took his new-to-him bike out for its inaugural ride this morn and they both did great.  The bike is a thrift-store gem:  It's his size, made of CroMoly steel (solid as Hell), bright red and mostly clean.  By mostly clean I mean the gears are bright and shiny and the chain is black, greased and likely new.  Its chrome rims, handlebars and cranks have wee-bitty rust spots, but I'll get those out and the $29 bike will be virtually cherry.

So we were touring the neighborhood, like I said, and as we approached a corner, we heard the unmistakable, horrible screeching of a parrot.  We found the big, pretty guy up in a eucalyptus tree, and he was squawking like he was lost.  Ez asked him, "Are you lost, parrot?"

Parrot said, "Yes."
"Do you want to come home with us and play Avengers?"
"Only if I can be Hawkeye," Parrot said.
"Ok," Ez said.

So Parrot came home with us and as we started to play Avengers, Ez suddenly switched to the 1970s Jack Webb-produced LA County Fire Department Paramedic drama "Emergency!", which we've been watching on Netflix® streaming.

"You're Dr. Brackett, Parrot.  You work at Grampart Hospital."
"I'd rather be Dr. Early or Paramedic John "Johnny" Gage," Parrot said.
"No, I'm Johnny," Ez said.
"Okay," Parrot said, "Then I'm Dr. Early."
"Dad?" Ez said.
"Yeah?"
"You're Roy.  Okay?  You're Roy.  You're Roy."
"Yes, I get it, I'm Roy," I said.
Then we played "Emergency!" until we had to leave for the rink.

Tonight - The Elixir
(It'll be cold tonight... cozy up w/ the TNSC)


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!