Friday morning, I checked to see if Neil Armstrong had checked in. He was in room 1202, and was due out on the 13th, so I was pretty sure I'd at least see him. Growing up a total space geek, I went over scenarios in my head to make sure that I didn't attack him when he came downstairs. I rehearsed "Mr. Armstrong, how are you this morning? How was your night? Do you have a car downstairs that we can bring up for you?" things like that.
Needless to say, that the morning went on fairly normally, and he did not come down before 6. One of the other navy officers from his squadron, however, did come down for breakfast. And as he was sitting alone, I struck up a conversation while he waited for the restaurant to open. We talked about the state, and where he was from, and he asked me where I was from. I said Ohio, and he commented that Neil was from there too. I said that Stryker, where I grew up, wasn't far from Wapekaneta, where Neil was born. Now take into account that while they are spry little guys, all of these navy officers are pushing 80, if they haven't already fallen into it. For those of you who don't know many 80+ year old men, they get excited easily, and then forget what they were excited about, and spend the rest of their day perpetually excited, but they don't know why. That's why they sleep like 3 hours a night. They are so excited about something or other. (Note: Sometimes, this can also translate into crankiness. Insert the word cranky instead of excited into the rule above, and it will account for about 1/3 of old men days per year. The other two thirds they spend mysteriously excited.) Anyway, he got very excited, and then ended up looking a little confused until the rest of his party came down for breakfast. I went back to work, and forgot the conversation for the moment.
About two hours later, I had just returned from bringing up a car, when I saw the navy squadron gathering outside to get on their bus, and get on with their busy and mysteriously exciting day, when I spotted Neil in the center of the group. He was wearing a light pink dress shirt, and was looking very healthy. The last few pics I've seen of him haven't done him justice. Anyway, he's a very private man, and I didn't want to scare him, so I took my look, and went inside. Just in the doors, I was accosted by the little old gentleman from earlier, and he said "Have ya met Neil yet?!?" I said no, and he hauled me out the door and toward the group. "Neil!" he yelled as he flung me in front of the first man to step on the moon... "This boy's from Ohia! (pronounced correctly, I might add.)" Neil asked me where, and shook my hand. I told him I was from Stryker, and he said he knew where that was. (Almost unbelievable, but he gave a reference town that established that he did indeed.) I told him that it was an honor to meet him, and that I hoped he had enjoyed his stay. I wished him a good day, and took my leave.
I was in a bit of shock. Introduced. How much better was that then pushing myself at him and saying something like "I'm glad ya made it back!" or "Way to beat those ruskies!" or something ridiculous like that. I was so happy, that I told a couple of coworkers before returning to the front to get back to work. As I approached the front desk, I noticed a slightly dishevelled customer waiting to be helped. I went up to ask him if he needed help, and possibly tell him about Neil Armstrong getting into the bus outside when he turned around. It was Ron White. Ron "Tater salad" White of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. He looked slightly drunk, which is, or course, his look. "Mr. White. How are you this morning?" I asked. He said he was ok, and I told him I loved his show. (He is easily the funniest part of what can be a thoroughly disturbing look at america.) He was simply looking for a place to buy socks, preferably where there was a pretty salesgirl, and I directed him to the right place. He went and ate breakfast, and spent the morning wandering around looking for something to do. Unfortunately... there IS nothing to do in Colorado Springs at 9am on a Friday morning. So he went over to the spa and flirted with the girls there. Avoiding the random "TATER SALAD!!!" screaming fan with grace. Needless to say, I was pretty shocked. Armstrong, I saw coming, but a week of naked old men, half drunk celebrities, and new shoes... it was a bit too much for me. I needed a few days to process it before bringing it to you my faithful readers.
Well. On to something else. Here is a montage of Sarah pics from this, our ninth and final month of pregnancy. Below it, you will find a desktop picture of Sarah's 9th month. (I'm a dork. But a freakin proud one...)
