July is a wonderful month in Rio de Janeiro. It was great to have the whole family in Rio and we chose the wonderful and magical Jardim Botânico for a photo shoot. The weather was great. This is where I will to retire. I am just so happy.
Today I went through security at Charlotte Douglas Airport as I have done hundreds of times before. Shoes off, nothing in my pockets, and cell phone in a separate bin. I put my feet on the little yellow marks on the machine, did the NFL touchdown pose and went through the world’s most expensive X Ray machine. I exit the creepy chamber, and look hopefully in the eyes of the TSA man. He averts my gaze and looks up from his spectacles and says while shaking his head, “I’m going to have to pat you down.”
I make the offsides penalty pose for the TSA man, and take a peek over my left shoulder to see what might be causing TSA’s concerns. To my shock, there is big yellow square over my crotch. Unbelievable! TSA thinks my cock is a bomb.
TSA Man wants me to think this is a potentially explosive situation and I was working hard to keep a straight face. Here is the rub. TSA wants us to believe they are highly trained behavioral detectives that can separate innocent travelers from the freedom hating terrorists. Even if you don’t believe this, they need to feel that you do. Because if you don’t, then you, my friend, are a terrorist. So if you wrinkle your forehead, crack a smile, or God forbid, roll you eyes, then they will throw you in Cuba with a stick up your ass with Dick Cheney on a waterboard machine.
So back to the TSA Man and my cock. He looks at me, and says, “If you want, we can go to a more private room for the screening.” At this point, a million thoughts are going through my head, the goal is to NOT share any of these wayward thoughts, or he will think I am a terrorist. Here is what I was thinking.
TSA Man, I am a 65 year old heterosexual. With all the government spying and surveillance, you haven’t figured that out yet? And please, you are not skinny. Let’s just say it, you are fat, you are huffing and puffing just to get out of bed. So I have no interest in going into the private room, although I was a little curious about whether it was similar to the champagne room at the strip club.
I delicately respond still in the offsides pose , “Let’s do it here.” To which TSA Man replies, “I will only use the back of my hand during the screening.” So I think, and never said the following. Dude, are you worried that I will want a hand job or something? Because this is not happening. But what I really wanted to say was if you use the back of your hand, then you can only touch the back of my cock which, by the way, is not a bomb. But I didn’t say that, instead I said, “Go ahead”.
TSA Man begins his “screening”, and he was aggressive. At one point, he got the back of his hand between the ball sack and my inner thigh. If TSA Man was a dick, he could inflict some serious pain. He did not, but I am really glad that I didn’t tell him he was fat. Like I said, TSA Man did not nothing for me, nada. Plus I am married to a very beautiful Brazilian that is the mother of my children. My cock never moved not even a little bit. I do wonder what TSA Man would have done if it did. Would that have been the time to take it to the back room? Or would that make me a terrorist? Do terrorists get boners?
TSA Man says, “You are good to go.”
I leave to collect my things which had backed up the line significantly. One lady gave me the stink eye like it was me that clogged the line. It wasn’t me lady, it was my cock. I have to say that I was a little disappointed that TSA did not find that my cock was a bomb. How cool would that be? Can you imagine, you are in a bar where Victoria Secret models frequent, and you can legitimately say, “My cock is a bomb”. They would be buying me drinks. My cock is dangerous, or better yet, a weapon of mass destruction.
One side note: The TSA body scanners, do a front and rear image. On the front was the large yellow box over my cock, on the back was much smaller yellow box was over my asshole. I never would have thought that my asshole would be a threat to the country.
This year, Solange and I are married 17 years. It has been an incredible ride and I am so proud of my wife that is so beautiful inside and out. I found some photos Solange took a few years ago on an old SD chip. I started experimenting with Davinci Resolve which is an incredibly powerful free video editor and this is the result. For the soundtrack, I chose the song “Diga Sim” by Raça Negra. The name translates to “Say Yes”, and it is a sentimental song for me. When we were dating, Solange and I went on a cruise from Santiago, Chile to Buenos Aires, Argentina, and she played this CD every day. I am so happy that she said YES.
After a grueling eight-hour layover in Atlanta, my guitar and I finally boarded the last plane of the night. After scanning my ticket, Delta Lady #1 ran down the jetway to give me a ticket to place on my guitar.
I told her that my plan was to place the guitar in the closet in the front of the plane. I have traveled with my guitars on dozens of segments on multiple airlines and aircraft without incident. There has always been space in the small closet in the front of the plane or in the overhead bins. In retrospect, I regret not accepting the ticket.
I entered the plane and asked about placing the guitar in the closet, and Delta Lady #2 said that the closet might be full and was reserved for first class. My only option was to place the guitar in the overhead bins. I did not argue and continued to my seat.
Near my seat, there was an empty overhead bin, and I lifted my guitar. Delta Lady #3 said it would not fit, and guitars were not allowed in the overhead bins. Unfortunately, she approached to block me from placing the guitar. I reacted poorly, and continued stowing the guitar. I quickly learned that Delta Lady #3 was correct and Delta Lady #2 was incorrect, the guitar did not fit in the overhead bin.
The situation was escalating which made me uncomfortable. Delta Lady #3 provoked with “How would you feel if someone told you how to do your job?” and “I can get you thrown off the plane.” I ignored the taunts. Another passenger swore at me, and I kept quiet. I started back up the aisle with the guitar, and Delta Lady #2 was approaching, so I gave her the guitar, and sat down at my assigned seat.
A few minutes passed, and Delta Man #1 approached and gave me the ticket for the guitar. Later Delta Man #1 approached me, and gave me an OK sign. A few more minutes passed, and Delta Man #1 returned and told me that I had to leave the airplane.
In the jetway, Delta Man #1 explained that Delta Lady #3 would explain what happened, and that I needed to apologize. She recited her version of events and stated that I failed to obey her instructions. I did not tell her that her instructions differed from Delta Lady #2. I complied and apologized. She did not feel that the apology was adequate and had me thrown off the plane.
Our last adventure for our Cancún vacation was to a wonderful place called Xcaret which is one of the coolest tourist destinations in the area. The highlight is a man made salt water that runs through the park. Each person puts on a life vest, and swims throughout the river. There are numerous spots to take selfies built into the trip. There are numerous restaurants, and we saw two shows. The first one was a Mayan dance show and the second they call the Spectacle. Dinner was included, and it was as spectacular as the name suggests. The show lasted about an hour and a half and reviewed the history of Mexico through song and dance. The park includes an aquarium and a small zoo, plus places to swim and a boat ride. If you are going to do one thing while in Cancún, it should be Xcaret.
They have a technology, where each person gets a wrist band, and it takes a Xelfie in hundreds of different places. These photos are an assortment of our Xelfies.