Heading back home after being in Baltimore and then Pittsburgh for 6 days.
I do not like traveling at all, especially if I have to fly to get there. I become discombobulated and out of balance, often forgetting something in my rush out of the house to go where I don’t really want to be.
(By the way, this is the first time I have ever typed out the word “discombobulated,” and spell check did not correct me. It’s one of those words you say, but are not quite clear if it is slang, made up or part of the English language.)
When I am packing I many times wait till the last second. I hurriedly throw things into a bag and speed to the airport. On this particular trip I was dangerously close to missing the plane and I cut my hand twice that morning, resulting in looking like O.J. Simpson after “getting his golf bag out of the car” in 1993.
I’m not sure what the deeper meaning is for putting off my schedule, but I would think it has something to do with a subtle wish that the plans will change and I get to stay home with my family instead.
There is nothing in the world better than being around my wife and 3 sons. Nothing comes close. There is no sleep number hotel bed or in-room Jacuzzi that could come close to the comfort and peace I feel when I am around my wife and kids, so I avoid road trips, even though (strangely) I am in a business that calls for being up in the air.
I never had stability as a child, as we moved from rental home to rental home. When I was young, I actually thought the word “evict” meant “move,” like “here comes the eviction truck mommy!”
We would pack our tattered and borrowed suitcases and go to another Philadelphia neighborhood, but did not settle anywhere for very long. I had another childlike perception that there was an advantage to changing locations – because in each residence came an envelope filled with “Welcome Wagon” coupons! These were deals from local businesses, offered to lure you in for a taste of their goods or services, hoping you will become a regular customer.
Two things remain in my subconscious today. One is that I still have a very warm feeling around discounts, and am a huge Groupon (or others like it) user. Upon seeing a deal from my area online deals dealer I seize the opportunity, convincing myself I must not miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to save money.
The irony is, nine times out of ten it is not something I would normally buy, meaning that I am not saving money at all! Did I really need to be exfoliated?
The other part of my childhood that won’t seem to go away is keeping a couple of cardboard boxes packed, just in case someone sends us a note telling us we must vacate the premises. It is not realistic thinking, considering I haven’t missed a payment in 2 decades, but I am insecure nonetheless.
I think childhood memories are like Mel Gibson. You can numb 'em, arrest 'em, lock 'em up or ignore 'em, but there will always be a comeback.
Since this blog is supposed to have an ongoing theme, let me take this opportunity to seize a segue and talk about my belly coming back. Well, more like moving towards my back, as the stomach is on a descent.
I may have lost some waistline on this trip. The reason I know this is due to another reason I hate flying – airport security. They now choose you “randomly” to step out of the normal x-ray line and into a machine that apparently can see what you had to eat that morning.
In this contraption is not used in many airports, thus meaning it makes no sense to have the tighter security in one airport, but not another. I am not a clever terrorist, yet if I were I certainly would fly out of a city that hasn’t purchased this big unit. It makes no sense, similar to when I tell them I can prove my liquids aren’t explosive by taking a gulp in front of them.
This morning the TSA guy (of course) points at me and tells me to remove my belt. I did, and my pants came down about 6 inches. I was no hip-hop artist (“Bust A Gut”), although my jeans were on their way to the ankles when I moved fast to save the line from seeing a flash slob.
On the other hand, I wish I mooned the guy who picked me for the special screening. My pimply ass might make him hesitate next time.
On the plane now and will get to our bathroom scale to confirm the progress. And then I will get some needed rest from my discombobulation, which is not a word that escapes the spell correction.
Yay Craig! Congratulations on the pants falling down! I wouldn't worry if your weight isn't where you think it should be if your pants fall off when you remove the belt (I think you retain water or something like that from flying, too, so maybe wait a day- though that might be an old wives tale). My whole family got picked to get out of line on the way to Disney this past January- all 6 of us! Little kids to grandparents having to get patted down. The culprit was the jogging stroller we had. Something got picked up from it on a sensor. The only thing I could think of was that it sat in the garage for almost a year next to some gas cans and probably ended up with some fumes from them that got picked up in a sensor. So, when we got to Disney, we gave it a good bath and were fine on the way home.
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