Golden Girls Gone Wild

I had an email from my mother this morning, who is currently doing a spot of travelling in far away places, to tell me she landed in Tokyo safely and that it was 26 degrees Celsius and humid. I don’t know about you guys’ mothers but mine always likes to keep me abreast of the weather situation, at any given time, wherever she is, just in case of emergency. She’s British you see, therefore she still has this inbuilt wonder and appreciation of any weather that isn’t apocalyptic.

I have visions of being on some game show like, “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” and the question comes up, “What is currently 26 degrees and humid?” and I can glance at the choices and confidently smile and say, “Well Regis, if I’m not mistaken, ‘David Hasselhoff’s sweaty ball sack’ actually clocks in at a rather tepid twenty FOUR degrees, therefore, it would have to be C) the weather in Tokyo!” and everyone would gasp and applaud, fully impressed that someone should know something so absurd and Regis would be all, “Ah, I assume you have a retired mother visiting Tokyo?” and I’d be like, “Sure do Reeg. And coincidentally, she’s the one who told me about the Hoff’s sack!” and we’d all laugh and nod knowingly and ideally I’d get $250,000 (and some soothing salve for my mind after its imagination of Hasselhoff’s balls.)

My mother’s a touch eccentric to begin with and she likes to travel, so when she emailed me a few months ago and said, “I’m so tired of the rainy weather this summer, I think that Pat and I will take a little trip somewhere to escape!”, I didn’t think much of it as she and her best friend Pat are always going on little weekends here and there since they’ve now both retired.

One year they splashed out and went to Greece for a week, returning with tales of heavily moustachioed Greek men who called them “ladies” and plied them with Ouzo while they stayed out till ALMOST MIDNIGHT!

“Where are you going?” I asked, when I next spoke to her on the phone.

“Well…” she said. “We’re spending ten days in Tokyo, three weeks in Australia and a week in Hong Kong!”

So that was her idea of a “little trip”. For the record, my “little trips” normally involve a weekend up in Grand Forks to eat Mexican food and drink margaritas till I pass out then waking up with a bra on my head. And realizing “That’s not MY bra!”

Anyway, she was excited because Japan’s not like anywhere she’s ever been before and she wasn’t sure she was ready for the culture shock. To be honest, I’m not sure Japan’s ready for the culture shock of two sixty-something year old ladies trying to figure out the intricacies of sushi and vending machines full of secret alien substances. I’m sort of half hoping for entertainment’s sake, that she comes home dressed as as schoolgirl and sporting a Hello Kitty backpack.