We are on day ten of Oprah and Gayle’s big adventure. As you will recall, my son Noah is the diva-esque Oprah in this adventure while I am the lovely, pleasant, joy-exuding Gayle. Nine days with Oprah has been challenging at times and downright maddening at others. Oprah has been dancing merrily on my last nerve for the past few days. Lately it takes all I have not to commit Oprah-cide.
You see, Oprah complains – a lot. I don’t think Oprah has found a single thing I do to be lacking complaint merit. Oprah’s favorite thing to complain about as of late is my shoes.
Oprah feels obliged to tell anyone who will listen (and I do mean any one) that I brought eight pairs of shoes with me on our big adventure. As if eight pairs of shoes for a two week adventure is too many. I have tried to educate Oprah to the reality that different types and colors of outfits require different shoes as do different types of activities.
Oprah brought one pair of functional shoes. Oprah seems to think that excess shoes are a diva indicator. I think not and I object to the term excess as a characterization of my eight pairs that have traveled for this two week adventure. I am a planner who at the outset surveys the known and probable landscape to evaluate what resources will be needed. My survey indicated that I would need fashionable shoes that matched all my outfits and a multitude of activities. Indeed, I limited the number of outfits I brought based on a need to keep my shoe count at a manageable number.
Now had I brought more than one pair of shoes for each travel day given the luggage fees, well that may have been a bit much. But eight pairs given my shoe collection and the diversity of my attire and daily outings – well, that makes my eight pairs not only reasonable, but downright prudent.
Luckily, I still have a handful of days to educate Oprah on the utility of having an appropriate number of shoes available to meet one’s needs. There is good news and progress to report on one Oprah front though… I have been able to ease Oprah into a higher level of tolerance as it relates to my visiting with folks. Oprah’s homage to me being Gayle consists of sitting in the car and reading a book without complaint as I mingle amongst the locals.
At least that is something…I remember that every time I want to wring Oprah’s neck. I also wonder who will carry the bag filled with shoes down the stairs of the Alpengruss when it is time to check out. I guess even the Oprahs amongst us have their purpose and place in the world.
Day seven hundred and twenty-three of the new forty – obla di obla da