Tag: Studly Doright

You Might Be Studly Doright If….

Studly Doright (aka David Noyes) seemed to enjoy his birthday celebration on Thursday. After an outstanding Thanksgiving feast orchestrated by his mother and sisters, we settled in to fete Studly as he prepares to enter his sixth decade on earth.

First our son, Jason, emceed a game show pitting our five grandchildren against Studly’s four siblings in a quest to see which group knew more about Studly. I’m not sure which team emerged as the winner, but we all got a kick out of the questions and accompanying vintage family photos that served as clues.

(Above, our two oldest grandkids, Garrett and Dominique, discuss their team’s answer.)

Our daughter, Ashley, led us in an activity called, “You might be David Noyes,” in which participants had an opportunity to share humorous recollections about the guest of honor in a format similar to Jeff Foxworthy’s “You might be a redneck.”

The contributed memories had everyone in stitches. I can’t remember many of them; I was laughing too hard. One I shared was, “If you ever tried to claim gravy is a liquid to justify eating it while prepping for a colonoscopy, you might be David Noyes.”

The grandkids got a kick out of these revelations about their Poppa.

(Above, our youngest grandchild, Harper, listens as her Poppa explains one of the many shared stories. She might have been angling for a piece of the birthday cake, as well.)

Afterwards, Studly read cards from family and friends. He got a little emotional at times, declaring this was his best birthday ever.

Thanks to everyone who made it so special.

Peace, people.

Night in the Airport

Studly Doright and I traveled to Amarillo, Texas, on Tuesday to spend Thanksgiving with his mom and his siblings in the Texas panhandle. We elected to fly out of Orlando, a four hour drive from Doright Manor, because every other option was outrageously expensive.

I’d always wanted to stay at the Hyatt Regency inside the Orlando airport and with a 6:55 a.m. flight, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do just that. I made the suggestion to Studly, and he thought it was a great idea. We could sleep a little bit later, and walk a mere 100 yards from our room to the airlines’ check-in kiosk.

There was an element of excitement to staying inside the airport overnight. I’d read the book, From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, when I was a kid, and this experience reminded me of how the characters hid in bathroom stalls inside a museum, emerging only after the museum had closed for the night. The characters found places to sleep among the exhibits and took baths in the fountain. For some reason Studly wouldn’t let me do either of those things.

There were a few folks who were stranded due to delayed flights and were sprawled out on chairs and benches in vain attempts to catch a few zzzzz’s, but for the most part we had the terminal to ourselves.

(This guy encased in the plexiglass cubicle above isn’t real. At least we never caught him moving.)

Our room was comfortable and amazingly quiet nestled as it is inside one of the busiest airports in the country. I’d definitely stay at the Hyatt at the Orlando International Airport on a future trip. Maybe Studly will indulge my desire to bathe in a fountain. Or not.

(I’m writing this late on Tuesday night and I’m pooped! We got up at 4:40 a.m. eastern time to check in for our flight, and I’m about to go to bed at 8:30 central. Sorry for any poor grammar and nonsensical sentences. I’ll try to do better tomorrow.)

Peace, people!

Acclimated

Studly Doright and I have been in the Tallahassee area for four years now, having moved from central Illinois where we resided for eight years. This morning I realized I’d finally acclimated to the weather here when upon hearing that the high in our area would be in the mid-60’s today, I said to myself, “Better wear a sweater!”

I’m not complaining. I’ll wear that sweater all winter thanking my lucky stars I don’t need a heavy jacket and snow boots.

Truly everything is relative. We lived in North Dakota for four years where an ambient temperature of 34° on a winter day had folks digging out their bikinis and sunscreen.

Even in the mid-west the definition of cold is a matter of season. Forty degrees in November feels cool, while the same temperature in February is positively balmy.

The most difficult part for me when the weather turns cool is having to put away my flip flops. Although, I have been known to pull this stunt:

But only to take out the garbage. If I go downtown, I’ll put my pants on….

No matter where you are, I hope you have a great day. Pants optional.

Peace, people.

Driving Home

I successfully picked up Studly Doright’s new pickup truck in Houston on Friday night. My flight into Houston Intercontinental was delayed, but not late enough that I could escape evening rush hour traffic. Fortunately Studly had arranged for a gentleman from the dealership to meet me at the airport, so I didn’t have to rely on Lyft or Uber.

The salesman, Tim, was an interesting guy and the thirty minute drive to the dealership in Tomball went quickly. I was in the truck within another 30 minutes and headed home. So much for seeing the big city, but my plan was to get as far east on Interstate 10 as possible so I could make it home on Saturday evening. The best laid plans of mice and women—Bwahaha!

Gamely I shifted gears in stop and go traffic. To my credit, I only killed the engine once, but I over revved a bit and probably upshifted when I should’ve downshifted a couple of times, but before long I was back in the groove of driving a manual transmission vehicle.

By the time I reached the outskirts of Houston, though, I was worn out. I saw the sign for Buccees huge service station/store in Bay Town and pulled in for a rest. Normally I’d spend some time wandering around and ogling the place, but I made a beeline for the bathroom, then grabbed a water and a barbecue brisket sandwich.

Oddly enough, there’s no place to sit and enjoy a meal in Buccees, a store roughly the size of Rhode Island, so I ate standing up next to a couple who were heading back to Houston after a trip to New Orleans. We had a nice visit and we wished each other safe travels which prompted the husband to tell me that there’d been a bad accident on the eastbound side of I-10 and traffic was backed up for several miles.

That, combined with my tiredness prompted me to go back in the store to enquire about nearby hotels. A very few minutes later I was ensconced in a nice room with a glass of wine. I reasoned that I’d get up extra early on Saturday and make up for my relatively early end to the evening. Again, bwahaha!

According to my Fitbit app I slept a total of two hours and 44 minutes on Friday night. Around 5:30 a.m., I gave up on sleeping. I showered hoping to shock myself awake, and for awhile I felt okay. Sirius/XM radio helped and I sang along with the 60’s and 70’s channels or listened to NPR for many miles.

I also drank a lot of caffeinated drinks. And subsequently had to stop frequently to empty myself of caffeinated drinks. I wasn’t making much forward progress, and my need to sleep was gaining ground.

Studly called my cell phone around 2:30 and after listening to my sad tale, told me to stop fighting the need to sleep and get a room, so a mere five hours from Doright Manor I exited the interstate and checked into a Holiday Inn.

Now I’d only packed for one night’s stay so I had to go to a nearby mall to purchase a clean T-shirt and undies. My jeans and socks would have to suffice for one more day.

I would love to say I slept like a baby on Saturday night, and I did–a very colicky baby. Again I got up around 5 a.m. and this time emerged into a gray world and a steady rain. I did make better time and was home by two that afternoon. I kissed Studly and handed his new truck keys over. He tucked me into bed and then I didn’t hear another peep until he joined me around nine.

I know for sure I’m not cut out to be a long haul truck driver, so I’m crossing that career off my list. The pickup was fun to drive, though, and I’m glad I made the trip.

Mom, There’s Plenty of Room for Me

Patches let me know she wanted to join me on my trip to Houston in a not so subtle way this morning. Even after I reminded her that she detests car trips and would hate a two hour flight even more, she persisted in laying claim to my overnight bag.

Studly Doright promised to take good care of her and sister, Scout. Patches, though, thinks Studly is shady and never trusts his advances. She’s a smart kitty.

Peace, people!

Last Minute Adventure

Studly Doright has several hobbies: golf, motorcycles, and trading vehicles, among others. Several months ago he sold his pickup truck and bought a sports sedan. I knew, though, that it wouldn’t be long before the call of the wild—namely the need for another pickup—sounded in his ears. I even made a prediction that he’d have a new pickup before this year ended.

So, a couple of nights ago when Studly turned to me and asked, “If I bought a new pickup would you fly to Houston and drive it home?” I wasn’t the least bit surprised. Until I realized he’d asked me to go pick the truck up.

“Sure!” I said, happy to have a new adventure. We bought a plane ticket and I’ll leave on Friday afternoon.

Now, I have feelings of trepidation. The truck has a manual transmission, and while I have owned several vehicles with a stick shift, it’s been awhile. Also, I’ll be driving in Houston, the fourth largest city in the country. Great place to renew my acquaintance with a manual transmission vehicle.

In addition, I’m going to have to find a way to the car dealership from the airport. Uber? Lyft? I’ve never downloaded the apps and I’m not sure how they work. I guess I’ll have to learn quickly.

Did I mention I adore adventures, and that there’s an excellent outlet mall near Gulfport, Mississippi that’s calling my name? Wish me luck, good weather, and a few dollars to spend at the mall.

Peace, people!

The World in Black and White

A childhood friend challenged me to post seven black and white photos, one each day for seven days on Facebook. The photos could contain no images of people, and I wasn’t allowed to comment on the subject matter. Do you know how difficult it was for me to forgo an explanation of the pictures? Excruciating, that’s what it was.

Fortunately I have this blog and no restrictions as far as I can tell. Of this one thing, I am the boss.

The one below was taken in Chicago from the backseat of a car during an Uber ride. I’m amazed that I didn’t have to crop any humans out of the picture.

The next photo is of a portion of the ceiling at the Cadillac Palace Theatre where my daughter and one of my granddaughters, and I saw Les Misérables.

The anchor below was found on Amelia Island in Florida. I paused to snap the photo as Studly Doright urged me to run for our car while a storm headed our way. With one step to go I got drenched! But the shot was worth it.

Next up is a moody picture of the Florida capitol building. If you’re ever in Tallahassee it’s well worth visiting.

The Atlantic Ocean near our Amelia Island Hotel posed for my next shot. Loved these clouds.

Another photo taken on Amelia Island showcases the swamp we kayaked through on a recent visit. That house in the background looks a bit haunted shown in black and white.

Finally, one last photo from Amelia Island. This one is self-explanatory. I love the sepia look of this one.

I feel much better now, having given these shots some context. Maybe I’ll sleep tonight.

Peace, people!

Oh, So Young!

This photo of Studly Doright and me literally fell into my lap on Thursday night. I opened a binder and out it tumbled, crudely cropped and slightly faded.

I love this picture so much. It was taken in the spring of 1975 on the night of our junior-senior prom. My mother made the dress, and I felt so pretty in it. Puffy sleeves had that effect on me. Plus, I was so in love I could hardly stand it.

Studly had better hair than I did. At least nowadays I’m ahead of him in that category. You see, I still have hair. I hope I didn’t just say that out loud—he’s sitting right here!

Note the harvest gold pole lamp that almost appears as an appendage on my back. The lamp is an indication that the photo was taken inside my family’s home because Mom was really into harvest gold. Our fridge, stove, washer and dryer were all of the same hue.

I wish I could relive that night one more time, to feel that young and pretty and carefree again. Guess I’ll settle for the next best thing, and kiss this bald guy goodnight. Puffy sleeves might help, too.

Peace, people!

Havana (Florida) Car Show

Studly Doright and I had dinner in downtown Havana, Florida, last evening, and got more than just a great meal. After enjoying a delicious dinner and a glass of wine at The English Rose Cafe we wandered around Havana where an antique car show was in progress. Studly even won $35 in a raffle! Not too shabby.

Studly’s favorite vehicle in the show was the green ‘65 Ford pickup. Can you guess which one I’m fondest of?

If you ever find yourself in the area be sure to stop by The English Rose Café. It’s a little slice of British heaven in the Florida panhandle. (Note: I don’t receive any type of compensation for mentioning Millie’s restaurant—I just really like her food!)

Peace, people!

Marriage

Studly Doright and I were watching some network entertainment show last night. The hosts were talking about a celebrity couple whose marriage was in its third year. Apparently, the couple planned to share their secrets to a long and happy marriage.

“Three years!” I snorted. “If they’re still together in 38 years, maybe I’ll listen to what they have to say.”

“You’ll be dead by then,” said Studly.

Well, there is that nagging bit of reality. Damn his wicked insight.

Peace, and good marriages, people!