Okay this post is prerecorded because I want to write but I don’t want to try invoking the internet from the airport. I tried it and it said, “no” so I’ll just let it sleep and I’ll do Wordworks. I’ll paste this in the blog tonight.
Question one: Why am I the only person wearing a coat at the airport? There are no more questions at this point.
Later: I’m on the plane, or a plane anyway. Surely they would have flagged me if I’d gotten on the wrong one. I noticed that my carry-on bag was a little (no, a lot) bigger than everyone else’s. Actually, my violin is my official carry-on. So my “personal” other bag had to hold everything else, the operative word being “everything”. I started to get nervous boarding. There was that little platform that says if your bag won’t fit on here you’re screwed. As I passed the boarding man, I held my violin high, smiled a big, confident smile, and tried to conceal the other bag behind my back. Well it worked. I’m here on the plane with all my good stuff.
They announced at the gate that the plane was full, but there appears to be just one vacant seat. It’s next to me. Now placing a widow next to an empty seat is just plain cruel (or plane cruel). Why not just make an announcement on the speaker, “This is your pilot, we have some altitude, if we crash you’ll float, and btw Kim, sorry you’re flying alone?” It’s that missing airman out of formation feeling that’s a little saddening.
Oh well, this trip is about spreading out, so maybe the empty seat is a symbol. Right now it’s tray is holding my coffee, my snack, my book, my glasses case and my trash. Sweet.
Later still: I’m on the second leg of my flight now. The plane is chilly. Now who wishes they were all wearing coats? I’m fed and watered and quite comfortable. In a few hours I’ll be landing and facing the adventure. No turning back at this point (without a pretty stiff prison sentence).
I brought a couple of DVD’s to watch but at the last minute I put them in the violin case and it’s out of reach now, stuck behind suitcases in the overhead. Guess I’ll doze and read and pray. I’m good. Everything is good.
Landed: Got picked up by Scott, old friend from high school I haven’t seen in nearly forty years. Great reunion. I’m sharing a house with a couple who graduated from Iowa State, Greg's alma mater. He’s a pastor in Cedar Rapids. Get this, Joanne, Her sister lived at Pammel Court. Such a small world, but it sure has big mountains.