We are lifting off on flight #2395 heading back north.
I sneak a last peak at my smartphone, a text message from home:
It’s windy (very) here. Expect a bumpy descent into NY.
Lamott’s Help, Thanks, Wow: Three Essential Prayers comes to mind. Help! Thanks! Wow! Thank YOU for the soothing send-off. My fingers are on the keys to fire back a rocket. I decide against it. What incredible restraint you have shown. And yet, so unlike you. I sit and ponder whether I’ve finally matured in Middle Age. Shake my head. An aberration from the mean. I’ll get the final word when I get home.
And, it’s choppy.
The beverage cart is rolled cautiously down the aisle. It is now a “beverage” cart. There are no longer any complimentary snacks on two and half hour flights. It is noted that the seats still recline, and they are complimentary as part of the ticket purchase.
I ask for a Diet Coke. It will dissolve a nail and here you are fueling your tank. She offers me the entire can. Just drink half. Do it. I slug it back, all of it, like a thirsty sailor. There are no napkins, those cost extra, so I wipe the spillage with my shirt sleeve. Class.
And, it’s choppy.
As the plane lurches up and down and left and right, the soda sloshes around. The Oxidation process is well under way, my intestines groan. In my youth, my bowels could swell up like a dirigible and I would feel no discomfort – a light balloon drifting in a summer breeze. No longer. A whiff of dew and he’s a boogie-eyed meerkat on look out for the toilet.
And, it’s choppy.
Expect a bumpy descent into NY. We’re still one and half hours away.
There are core foundational principles with air travel. On the top of this list: “Avoid the Lavatory.” Unless you are ready to explode, don’t do it. Why do they call it a lavatory? Lavatory. It sounds like Def: A location where medical research is being conducted. But it is def: A room with a toilet and sink. AND LAYERS OF JUMPIN’ BACTERIA. The best outcome here is avoidance. Period. There is no close second.
And, it’s choppy. [Read more…]