Tag Archives: Travel

Crazie Larry Story – “I’m in a jail cell and…”

Last of the Big Kids is my younger brother, Larry. If you missed the other stories about our fall from the Crazie Tree, click here, here, and here.

Sibling position #4 – two years younger than me.

The One Who Smiles

The One Who Smiles

Two things you need to know about Larry.

1.) He always has a smile on his face.

2.) He never breaks a rule.

This story begins the Christmas after 9/11. I got a call from Larry shortly after I’d dropped him off at the airport.

“I’ve been arrested.” I could hear the laughter in his voice.

I chuckled. “Sure you have.”

“No, really!” By now he’s laughing so hard it was difficult to understand him. “I’m in a jail cell right now and in fact they’re ready to take my pho—”

“Larry?”

No reply.

As I made a U-Turn in the middle of the six lane highway, I called my favorite attorney who just happens to be my husband, John. He called back to tell me, sure enough, Larry had been arrested — for trying to carry a large knife on the plane.  “Please tell me that didn’t happen.” Although he didn’t say it out loud I could hear “You’re family is Crazie.”

“OF COURSE IT DIDN’T HAPPEN!” I explained calmly.

John agreed to drive out to the airport to get it all straightened out.

I waited impatiently in the well-appointed lobby of the airport police station (not my first time in the lobby of a police station, but that’s another story). I knew for certain that my pacifist brother, who didn’t even like to use a letter opener, would not have been carrying a knife onto a plane.

When John arrived, the officer on duty took us to his desk and then brought Larry in from his jail cell. Larry’s smile was slightly lopsided, but still there. The officer asked him to tell us what happened.

“You know Shelly got me that wok I asked for, right?” he said.

“Um. Yes.” I replied

“Well, I decided not to check the box, I thought I’d just carry it on with me. You know, so it wouldn’t get squashed.”

“Okay.”

“I put it on the conveyor belt and I waited on the other side for it to come out. Only it didn’t. I looked up at the agent who’d x-rayed it and he’d called over another agent. Then they called over this police officer. Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Officer Schmidt.”

“That’s right. So, Officer Schmidt and the other two agents are all pointing at the x-ray screen and then over at me.” He giggled.

“All of the sudden, I remembered that a set of knives was included with the wok. So I said ‘Oh, there are knives in there aren’t there?’ And then, everyone that was standing around me took a step back.” Larry paused to get his laughter under control. “Officer Schmidt asked me to move to the holding area where they pat you down and I told him it was just a mistake and that if he’d give me the box I’d check it with my suitcase. No big deal.” He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.

Husband turned to me with that “Are you kidding me?” look on his face.

“Go on,” I said. “Then what happened.”

“Then, Officer Schmidt explained that it was against the law to carry a knife on the plane and asked me to turn around so he could cuff me.”

“He took it surprisingly well,” Officer Schmidt told us.

Larry said, “I was laughing so hard it was hard for you to put the cuffs on me, right?”

“That’s right.”

“But,” my husband asked. “Why were you laughing?”

“All I could think,” Larry said. “Was, what a great family story this was going to be.”

After several hours of discussion, the police finally agreed to let Larry go, promising him a stiff fine. We drove him back over to the terminal to see if there was any chance he could get on a later flight.

Evidently we looked bedraggled enough that the woman behind the ticket counter felt sorry for us.

“Let’s see what I can do.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard and we stood listening to the clickity-clack, waiting for the magic to happen. “Now, tell me the reason you missed your plane and,” here she leaned across the counter and winked at us. “Make it good.”

I opened my mouth to say he was an important musical conductor and had to get back to Broadway to his next performance but before I could utter a word my ‘never break a rule’ brother Larry said, “I tried to carry a knife onto the plane.”

It was another week before we could find a flight that would take him.

Evolution of a Crazie Personality

Evolution of a Personality

My first week as a senator’s spouse, I was invited to lunch with several other wives and informed not only of my “duties,” but was handed a list of all the senators. Each name either highlighted or crossed out, indicating who we should and shouldn’t speak to.

When I told my husband about it he said the whole thing was ridiculous and I should just do what I wanted. What great advice!

Of course I ignored it completely and started my evolution from Farm Girl

Farm Girl Jeans

To Senate Spouse

Senate Spouse Uniform

Fast-forward fourteen years and my husband’s decided to retire from the Senate, which means I get to evolve out of my Senate Wife persona. I can be/wear whatever I darn well please. Only… I don’t know what I darn well want to wear anymore.

On the last day of my recent trip to the east coast, I was packing my suitcase and I realized that if an archeologist examined this bag he’d deduce that the woman who packed it was a schizophrenic.

Suitcase of a Crazie Person

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The first layer of the archeological dig would reveal that I’m still unable to completely let go of the Senate Spouse Uniform so had packed the same type starched shirt I’d worn for fourteen years.

but got a little wild with the skirts.

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The next layer in the suitcase revealed a hippie phase.  I can still remember wearing long flowing skirts and baggy sweaters.  Maybe I should try that again?

Hippie Fail

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I’ve never been a person to wear sparkles, but was it time to start?

Sparkle – splat!

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Probably, I’m a gritty urban woman who wears earth tones to blend in.

Urban Urbane

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Then again, maybe I want to stand out.

Colorful Casualties

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What the?  Now I’ve transformed into a clown?

I don’t care what you say, I’m wearing these. They’re warm!

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When I got home, I eventually evolved into a new personality – The R-Teest.  One filled with flowing tops and black leggings.  Now this was a uniform I could stick with. Kicking it up a notch, I layered on multiple sets of jewelry and scarves until I looked like a blinged out, multicolored popsicle walking around on two short black sticks.

Then, Saturday night the consequences of such a carefree and comfortable uniform bit me in the…uh…ego.

I had one last senate dinner to attend and when I tried to slip on my old uniform, nothing fit. First, I squirmed into my industrial strength Spanx, after which I barely managed to get the top button of my slacks secured. Then, I struggled in to a starched shirt (unable to fasten the last button around my stomach), added a sweater and, hoping to camouflage my middle, topped it all with a jacket.

Evidently my latest evolution of a crazie personality has a downside.   When you always wear pants with elastic in the waist, it seems you magically believe you can have ice cream and chocolate after every meal without any consequences.

Will this setback stop the evolutionary process?  I hope not.  I certainly don’t want to end up a wooly mammoth stuck in a tar pit one day.

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Crazie Camper Caper Update:  My 1955 Aljoa is still stuck in the camper hospital as they try to repair her enough to get her road worthy.  I’d wanted to add running water, but when the estimate climbed to over $500 I decided I could do without it.  Also, after carefully considering my budget ($0.00) I’ve discovered I won’t have enough funds to have her painted just yet.  The upside of this, is that it meant I could finally come up with a name for her.  The Ugly Duckling.  

I’m sure we’ll survive just fine until I can afford to turn her into a swan – speaking of which, click the picture of my book on the right of this blog and buy it – please? (Nice segue, huh?)