Back in the 60′s my Dad use to travel a lot on business, through LAX.
At the time, The Krisnas use to be able to VERY AGGRESSIVELY hassle the passengers ‘pimping their stuff’.
When one of ‘em approached my Dad to give his pitch, he would pull out his key chain/clicker, and . . .
‘click’ ‘click’ ‘click’
They would often give up, say thank you, and then go hassle someone else.
My Dad said one guy would NOT GIVE UP, and followed him half way down the concourse; before finally being frustrated enough to say, “F*uck You!”.
My Dad, being my Dad, broke into, “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare . . .”
I asked him how the guy reacted to that, and he said, “He laughed”.
cool
***
About the same time:
One Saturday morning my Dad and I were watching college football, and he picked up his clicker and,
‘click’ ‘click’ ‘click’
My Mom who had been in the kichen, came around the corner to see what the noise was.
My Dad, being my Dad, held up his coffee cup, and said, “Refill, please”.
~
Well, suffice to say:
1. He did NOT get a refill.
and,
2. He saved his clicker for the airport.
===
miss ‘em both, a lot
.
