9-11-0    Monday morning, the day of departure. Everything is packed. I’ve taken Turbo (my cat) to my brothers and have said my last goodbye to family and friends. Well with the exception of Anna who is driving me to the airport. She promised to be at my house two. She shows up at one thirty. I turn off the PC, check the windows & the doors. I have my tickets, my itinerary and my smile. I get my two duffels; one with my sleeping bag and the other contains clothes and toiletries. My backpack will be my carry-on and I have stuffed it with two books, an emergency pair of shorts, my glasses and contact solution, a deck of cards, anti-bacterial hand wipes and 30 proof sunscreen. These things should get me through the travel portion of the trip. Anna is so excited for me. I can see it in her face. We have plans to get to the airport a few hours early, sit down have a couple of beers and talk (like we always do). Driving to the airport I am viewing everything out of the window like I may be looking at it for the last time. I mean who knows, the plane could crash, it could be shot down in the airspace over Libya, a lion or another wild beast could possibly eat me. All of this might sound silly to you but my thought process varies with every changing day. None of these thoughts evoke fear, they are just possibilities of what could happen. Then my thoughts travel to if one of these things do happen, well then I would be in the local paper for a day. I’ve never been in the local paper before. What would my friends say? Would I be a great loss? I’m sorry Anna, I know you were talking the whole trip down but I can’t seem to remember a word. We are friends because we have certain understandings of these things, right?

When reaching the check in counter the airline specialist, representative, or whatever the names are these days, waves me to come up to the tall counter. It makes me think of how corporations feel the need to change names of positions every three years. In an effort to put a “new plan” into place they come up with a snazzy new name for the people working there. Things like “Oh new business cards won’t be that expensive” or “The public will really take to this” spew out of their mouths at board meetings. All the while forgetting that the public is their Daughter or Father walking up to the counter. And that the title of the person is not important, it’s the human interaction that takes place that is really important. If every representative or specialist followed the outlined customer interaction session by the book the world would be a very boring place. Not to mention tedious for the consumer. Oops, a tangent. Sorry. Anyway, Jane tells me that there is an earlier flight to Detroit leaving at 3:10. Would I like to take this one? “ I know your flight is at 4:30 but that only leaves you…” her fingers manipulate the keyboard that I can’t see “1 hour in Detroit and that may not be enough time” she says. Ok, my first big traveling decision. Turn to the left and there is Anna’s face. My expert face reading skills tell me that she would really like to sit down and talk and get out her final thoughts on my trip. On the other hand, if I don’t have enough time in the airport I miss my flight and everything is screwed up and I’m in Detroit of all places. Jane is waiting. Anna is smiling a half smile. Umm, Jane wins. I ask, “Where’s the gate and the closest bar”? Jane smiles happily knowing that I have accepted her advice. Did she puff up? I can’t remember now. Handing me my seat assignments and baggage check she says, “The bar is right next to the gate”. As soon as the ticket corner touches my fingers, Anna and I look like we are in a race. We both have the same idea at the exact same time. We can make it to the bar and have at least one beer. Hey maybe this trip is going to be problem free after all! The underlying theme to this is that Anna is a very nurturing person. She is not there because I needed a ride to the airport. She is there because this is time that we get to spend together. No one else is sharing this moment. So it’s a damn good thing that we have a chance to have a drink or I might pay for it later. Maybe, I wouldn’t be invited over for dinner when I returned. She knows what that means to me and I know what this means to her. We balance well. An understanding between us that is both conscious and subconscious.

Sit, order a drink, and smile. The man who sits down next to us obviously has no one to talk to. We don’t really care, so his comments pass right by us. Being cordial really means that he is not invited into our time, another mutual understanding. Five minutes left. Hug, say the last goodbyes and I’m off. Walking through the tunnel to the plane I think ‘Did I turn around and wave’? I don’t think I did. How rude. Being that my thought process has now turned linear; get on the plane, sit down and take a deep breath.

My reading is interrupted by the voice of God. “Folks we are in a holding pattern above Detroit, there is a lightning storm. Let’s hope we don’t have to land in Cleveland,” the captain says. Yeah, let’s hope. I look out the window and I see the jet stream floating off of the wing. Is that jet stream or is it someone’s guardian angel hitching a ride? Maybe I’ll believe the latter and everything will be just peachy. I guess Mom all that positive thinking stuff comes in handy. Lesson #2 of the trip.

We just landed in Detroit. Sitting on the runway for over two hours waiting for the lightning to stop. The voice of God of the plane again “ we are waiting because the airport won’t open the gates until 15 minutes after the last shot of lightning. Thank you for your patience”. Whose patience? I don’t feel very patient right now. I have places to go and people to see. My watch says 14 minutes and 30 seconds with no lights from the sky. Boom! Fuck, this is like a freaking comedy that uses small gags to get laughs. Let’s see, I ponder. If the weather is bad and my plane can’t get in then surely my connecting flight can’t leave either. Ok, another deep breath. So the worst storm in Detroit history hits today, at least they are serving free beer and pretzels. The two beers I have had are slowly working on my senses, with the exception of my hearing. I just can’t seem to mute the 2 year old that is about 3 rows up. Blessed are the little children right? Thank goodness for their little fingers, toes and huge, unstoppable vocal chords. I get up and walk slowly past the child. I muster up the nastiest, wickedest look I can and sneer at the child. It works! I am magic with children. When I sit back down with my accomplishment in my back pocket an older gentleman walks into the isle by my seat. He’s apparently German and very well dressed. He wore a cream turtleneck and a deep brown blazer. I couldn’t tell if it was wool but it fit him impeccably. He’s on his way back from Germany. He just celebrated his 50^th High School reunion. You never know who’s going to stop and talk when traveling. I couldn’t figure out if he was flirting for himself or for his much younger traveling companion. I am glad I learned this cordial stuff. Who taught me? I’ll think about it later. Out of the Nascar track shaped window some planes are starting to move. It’s only been about 3 hours, yet I continue to smile. Sometimes curveballs help win the game. Conversations are all around me. The man behind me seems to be hot for the German women sitting next to him. She doesn’t sound like she’s disinterested either. Well, I think he just blew it commenting on his cowboy boots and all. Funny how you can get along with anybody. Given the right circumstance.

It’s 8:20pm. I just boarded a plane to Amsterdam. It’s not my scheduled flight. The attendant, representative, specialist guy just told me that if I couldn’t get on this flight that there would not be another flight from Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro for about 5 days. So I basically ran on the plane. No one stopped me to ask for a ticket, no one checked my validity. I must have picked the right seat for I had no one ask me to move. The poor bastard that was supposed to be sitting here is still arguing with the worn out guy at the ticket counter. Oh well, that’s life. Did I just puff up? Maybe. I’m such a cunning traveler, well for right now.