Hook ring saves the day!
Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 11:23 am
My son, Russ, aka rbaron, was fishing in Red River NM when he came down with a virus that decides to head for his heart. He has pericarditis. Sounds scary to me so I hop a plane for Albuquerque where he has been taken via mediflight. He's doing ok now. We will go home (Norman, OK) in a couple of more days - hopefully.
Anyway, as I board my last leg a guy sitting behind and across from me taps me on the shoulder. I turn around and he is pointing at his middle finger. I'm thinking what in the crap did I do to him? My son is dying, (he has just sent a text saying "Im dying. - You're not dying, you just can't think of anything fun to do.- When Russell was in Egypt land, let my Russell go." - quote from Farris Bueler and his hypochondriac friend Cameron in case you didn't know), I'm petrified, and some a hole is shooting the ugly at me. I come to my senses and realize that my hook ring is on my middle finger and he is now pointing to his wrist which is sporting the lovely hook. We strike up friendly and brilliant conversation. This leads to that and he offers a ride to the hospital in his rental vehicle. My son proceeds to have a conniption fit when he finds out that I'm hitching a ride from some psycho-stranger that I met on the plane and screams that I will be cut into a million pieces. I assure him that only nice- psychos wear hooks and I will be fine.
Very long, sleep deprived, rambling story short, I'm thankful that I was wearing my ring. It brought great luck and reaffirmed my belief that the best people "get it". Thanks to Justin, the VI lover!
Sent from my iPhone
Anyway, as I board my last leg a guy sitting behind and across from me taps me on the shoulder. I turn around and he is pointing at his middle finger. I'm thinking what in the crap did I do to him? My son is dying, (he has just sent a text saying "Im dying. - You're not dying, you just can't think of anything fun to do.- When Russell was in Egypt land, let my Russell go." - quote from Farris Bueler and his hypochondriac friend Cameron in case you didn't know), I'm petrified, and some a hole is shooting the ugly at me. I come to my senses and realize that my hook ring is on my middle finger and he is now pointing to his wrist which is sporting the lovely hook. We strike up friendly and brilliant conversation. This leads to that and he offers a ride to the hospital in his rental vehicle. My son proceeds to have a conniption fit when he finds out that I'm hitching a ride from some psycho-stranger that I met on the plane and screams that I will be cut into a million pieces. I assure him that only nice- psychos wear hooks and I will be fine.
Very long, sleep deprived, rambling story short, I'm thankful that I was wearing my ring. It brought great luck and reaffirmed my belief that the best people "get it". Thanks to Justin, the VI lover!
Sent from my iPhone