It occurred to me, after sharing Ron’s malapropism in my last blog, “everything is peachy-dory” that there might be young people out here who wouldn’t understand it.  That malapropism is a combination of “peachy-keen” and “hunky-dory.”  I can understand the peachy-keen, since things used to be “keen” in the Olden Days, instead of neat or cool.  But how did hunky-dory end up being used to say that something is just fine?  Anyone know?

We recently flew to Tennessee to see our son Matthew and four of our grandkids.  On the way, we experienced nothing less than a miracle. [Pause to hear the sound effect of angels singing.]  There we were, in the middle leg of our trip, flying from Salt Lake City to Memphis. That flight would not arrive on time, so we were given the news that although we would be late, the stewardesses  would help us find another flight.  She assured us we would get to Knoxville by 9:00 pm, after a four hour wait in the airport.  Alas and Alack!  Woe is me!  That meant we wouldn’t get to Matthew’s until almost 10:00 pm.  We couldn’t even greet 6 year old Eli and would only have a short time with Olivia and Anders (13 and 12).  [18 year old Hayden no longer lives at home–we would see him later in the week.]

The flight we wanted to take was leaving at 2:20.  Our plane landed at 2:05 and at about 2:10 Ron was in his wheel chair.  (He uses a chair at the airport since he can’t walk fast enough between gates.) The young man pushing him was headed for our Knoxville flight, just in case. Of course that gate was 1500 miles away. [That might be a slight exaggeration.] We were walking along at a fast clip when I asked him, “Where are those beeping cars when you need them? Are there beeping cars here?” He said there were, but they were probably busy.

Two minutes later I heard a “beep, beep” and a lady shouting, “Get on, get on!” A determined woman was driving a beeping car with two passengers on board. She practically pulled Ron out of his wheel chair to sit next to her in the front while I hopped on the back.  With a maniacal gleam in her eye, the driver careened around corners, scattering helpless travelers left and right.   We all held on for dear life (or any other life for that matter).  In the middle seat was an airport employee, accompanying a young boy.  I asked her where they were going.  When she said “Knoxville,” I barely refrained from shouting, “Hallelujah and Yipee!” She said, “they’re holding the plane for this minor-aged boy.”  Yes, that boy needed to get on the plane because he couldn’t spend four hours hanging out at the airport. Thank God for minor-aged boys!  They certainly come in handy.

The boy had already been seated so we were the last ones to board the plane.  It was a small one, with two seats on each side.  All the seats (except our empty ones) were filled with frowning people.  Angry eyes were glued upon us. Because of us, the flight was delayed!  They were muttering, “we’ve been sitting here all this time because of this old couple? Who are they?  Parents of the pilot?  The Duke and Duchess of Outer Mongolia?” Yes, they might have made the assumption they were holding the plane for us: the important dignitaries!   [Actually, we are Children of the King!]

Since we might have fooled passengers into thinking we were VIPs, this malapropism of Ron’s fits:  “We pulled the snow over their eyes.”