It is a large room, and very quiet. Quiet enough that small sounds dominate. A swirl before the dregs of a lukewarm cup of coffee are swallowed with a grimace. The *tik* *tik* of a cheap lighter as yet another cigarette is lit. The rustle and groan as weight is shifted back and forth in a government issue office chair. The room is a collective holding of breath.
Expectant.
Dozens of buzz cut men in button down white t-shirts and skinny black ties stare fixedly at their monitors or at the single huge screen which dominates the wall they all face. They wait.
Somewhere on a roof in Mazatlàn.
The room erupts in cascading, triumphant cheers. Because it's true: the hammock is just about the most beautiful thing they've ever seen.
Expectant.
Dozens of buzz cut men in button down white t-shirts and skinny black ties stare fixedly at their monitors or at the single huge screen which dominates the wall they all face. They wait.
A timer counts down to an appointed hour. Passes it. Begins counting up, second by terrible second.
Suddenly, on the loudspeaker: a hiss. A crackle as a weak radio feed comes alive: "Houston? We, ah... we have deployment. Repeat: we have deployment. The hammock is out and.. well, jeez, isn't she just about the most beautiful thing you ever saw?
Somewhere on a roof in Mazatlàn.The room erupts in cascading, triumphant cheers. Because it's true: the hammock is just about the most beautiful thing they've ever seen.
You've gotta love that sense of humor - especially while the rest of us "shift back and forth in those government issued office chairs."
ReplyDeleteIts a Friday nifght Chapman Street gathering to celebrate Cliff's plenty ninth birthday. So as we drink-down the cellar here in the north; here's to you and many more entries. Audious con dios.
ReplyDelete¿"Audious con dios"?
ReplyDeleteAy, caramba.
Adiós - goodbye.
Vaya con dios - (May you) go with God. ie, good luck.
And don't drink all of the wine.