If You Can Make It There...

JUST got back from a week in New York City visiting our son, ActorBoy. Let me quickly relate the exhilarating experience of getting there...

Tuesday, July 1, 2008
This was the fastest trip through airport security I've ever experienced. This is attributable partly to the fact that we were there at 5:45 in the A.M. and partly that the carry-on screener had not had his second cup of caffeine. Evidence of this claim: KayJay absent-mindedly had left a tube of hand cream in her purse (NOT in a separate, quart-size ZipLocked bag -- GASP!) but still was whisked through security as fast as Las Vegas goes through marriage certificates.

This is the first time Beloved has flown since losing over 50 pounds. On the puddle-jumper flight to St. Louis, I feel like an oversized sardine in an undersized sardine tin, but Beloved is practically giddy at her ability to cross her legs or to put the seat-back tray down without it even coming close to her tummy.

Take-off was slightly interesting. After speeding down the runway at 90 mph for about a half-hour, I swear I heard the captain yell, "Faster, Barn! Peddle faster!"

My memories of the St. Louis airport from a Jamaican mission trip (Spring Break, 2007) revolve around a huge food court with barbecue beef and the best cheeseburger ever. The reality of our almost-three-hour layover today was a cold-molasses passage of time through an abandoned concourse and a Burger King where we shouted our order over the exhaust fan and paid for it by walking over to Cinnabon. The whole experience reminded me of a scene from a Western movie when the hero is waiting for Black Bart to show up. He slams down a shot of Red Eye, walks into the street, and all you can see is a stray dog and a tuft of tumbleweed.

I'm talkin' Deserted Airport...freaky.