Notes:
- Photograph: “Bob (aka Caleb) The Easter Camel” via Transglobalist
- Background on Caleb/Wednesday/Hump Day Posts and Geico’s original commercial: Let’s Hit it Again
Tag: Travel
Walking South Beach. Walking on Sunshine.
Baby here we stand again
Where we’ve been so many times before
Even though you looked so sure
As I was watching you walking out my door
But you always walk back in like you did today….
~ Jackson Browne, Hear Come Those Tears Again
Yesterday morning. I’m standing at the western end of Lincoln Road, the Lincoln Road on Miami’s South Beach. It’s early morning, but already 80° F. Humidity is on. Fingers puffy, both feet are fuller in sneakers.
Small towners from the north, looking for adventure in Miami, found it in all the wrong places. Weekend 1 included a car break-in after a sun drenched afternoon on South Beach. Month 6 included a home invasion. Most would have said Enough, and bailed. But, no, this felt like home. And for 14 years it was Home. Years later, like this week, we would return here with our family for a short annual retreat, birds migrating Home to rest.
Lincoln Road was the weekend destination for casual family dinners, soft serve ice cream, slow walks up and down the strip, and, of course, people watching.
But today’s Lincoln Road, was not our Lincoln Road.
I walk. I’m out with Dog walkers, a handful of pigeons, yuppie Runners, and shopkeepers preparing to open.
Large money center banks flank both ends of Lincoln Road. Money Only Permitted Here. Continue reading “Walking South Beach. Walking on Sunshine.”
Guess.What.Day.It.Is? Those that need extra time to board…
Notes:
- Photograph: Dunmow Broadcast: Movie star camel skips Oscars to help easyJet launch new Egypt route from Stansted Airport
- Background on Caleb/Wednesday/Hump Day Posts and Geico’s original commercial: Let’s Hit it Again
Flying AA 1011. With Chop.
1 hour out from DFW (Dallas) on flight back to NY. 37,000 feet up.
Heavy chop. Heavy.
Seat belt alert pops up.
Cabin is quiet.
Pilot comes on the intercom: “Flight attendants, please take your seats.” Never a good sign.
I close the lid on my iPad. I note that others around me put down their gadgets.
Captain is back on the intercom: “Apologize folks. Bumpy ride here. I checked with air traffic control. Heavy turbulence in both directions, at all levels. We’re over Nashville. Expect this to clear in 8 minutes. Please take your seats.”
8 minutes. Not: We expect this to end soon. Or: We hope this ends soon. Or: We think it will end soon.
8 minutes. God, I Love technology.
I look up the aisle. Left wing drops and then right side counters to stabilize. Back, forth, up, down. Replay. Over and over. How does this Bird not blow apart in pieces? Why is your head going there? How is that line of thinking helpful at all?
Pilot takes the plane up. And accelerates. Plane groans as it grinds against the headwinds. Oh I agree Captain. Too rough here. Let’s get closer to God for help.
Gratitude surges, for living, and for life. Just get me home. I promise I’ll be better. At every thing. A bloody saint. I’ll be nice to Sawsan, and Dale and Kiki. Maybe even throw out a compliment or two and pretend like I mean it.
I grab the loose end of the seat belt and pull it snug around my belly. I’m short of breath. Could I be hyperventilating here? I need to lose 10 pounds. I clutch my iPad with both hands. Can’t possibly damage this device. Hitting another passenger does come to mind, secondary concern behind damage to the iPad.
We’re 10 minutes in. He said 8 minutes!
We’re 14 minutes in. Chop continues to be heavy. But he said 8 minutes! Continue reading “Flying AA 1011. With Chop.”
Driving I-95 North. In March, with Summer Breeze.
Yesterday evening. 6:55 p.m. Still at the office. I shut down my PC, grab the loose papers from my desk and toss them into my brief case. I throw on my coat and step into the hallway. It’s quiet, still. No phones ringing. No printers running. No overhead hum, the HVAC is shut down. Everyone has gone home. The building rests.
I walk to the garage. It’s been a Long week. Unexpected (and serious) issues flare up, soaking up the free oxygen. Yet, you like that don’t you? Good to be needed. Great to be needed. DK, what did you want to be when you grew up? A Firefighter, of course. Superman-DK running into burning buildings, his Cape flapping behind him, carrying out Babies. Like that, sort of, of the Suit Kind.
I’m in the car. Temperature read-out is 49° F. I’m on the tail end of rush hour. Traffic is flowing. Roads are dry. Spring, come, Now.
I slide the window down. The cool wind washes over my face, a light anesthetic, and the moment spins back passages from Sarah McColl’s “Joy Enough“, my new book in flight.
“I felt it first as a space, like a window thrown open and then a breeze through the bedroom.”
And then Sarah rises again:
“There was a breeze that day, and my hair was gathered into a ponytail, I could feel the air move at the nape of my neck.”
And then Sarah one more time:
“There were no cars on the road, and the hem of my skirt fluttered at my knees in the humid breeze.”
And with this, the weight of the week lifts, the tightness in my shoulders and neck releases, and Bliss rises.
With one eye on the road and the other on my iPhone, I flick down my Favorites playlist, turn the volume up, and then one more extra turn, and hit play. Summer Breeze by Seals & Crofts.
See the curtains hangin’ in the window, in the evenin’ on a Friday night
A little light a-shinin’ through the window, lets me know everything is alright
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine, blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine, blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Notes: Other quotes by Sarah McColl in Joy Enough: A Memoir.” Photo via Of Figs and Roses