No Flight of Fancy

June 26, 2024, Bedford, MA- The young lady looked both embarrassed and crestfallen, upon learning that her oversized luggage would not fit in an overhead bin. Apparently, it had fit on previous flights, but on this full flight, it was a no-go. She asked if the middle seat was taken, and hearing a “No”, dropped her carry-on item on the seat, brought the offending bag to the jet way, for check-in, and came back to take her seat. No further words were exchanged with anyone, until the end of the flight, when she joined another young woman (maybe a sister) and an older man (maybe her father). I heard her tell the man that “that woman just growled at me, when I was bringing the bag out.” Sad that, even when people do inconvenient things, that we can’t summon at least a modicum of grace.

My day began at 1 a.m., proceeding to the shuttle down to Phoenix at 2:30, a somewhat chaotic scene at TSA, which led to a group of us being sent to another TSA check-point, on the other side of the terminal-and an only slightly less chaotic scene. I have rather mastered the art of removing items that need to be placed in separate tubs, ahead of time, thus not being obtrusive to other passengers or to the officers. It worked nicely, this morning.

Once in St. Louis, I got brunch at Bagel Bakery, directly across from our gate. A message came, around Noon, saying the flight to Boston was delayed, so I just settled into Joseph Campbell’s “Myths of Light”, that much deeper. It turned out, though, that the message was in error, so I informed the gate clerk, who checked and found that the flight crew had made up for the late departure from San Diego and would be on time, after all.

We got into Boston, as scheduled, waited at baggage claim for about thirty minutes, and upon finding that Mom was still with us, I proceeded to the rental car center, via a suitably crowded mega bus. Budget’s office, inside the garage itself, was not crowded, and I was in my vehicle in short order. Then came getting out of the Airport. I had almost navigated the Logan Labyrinth, when the driver in front of me stopped, got out and threw away some trash, then got back in her vehicle and- just sat, looking over at me like she was at wit’s end. A MassPort officer came over, and directed me as to how to get the rest of the way towards Revere, then removed some cones that were between me and the actual road. I was out of Boston, five minutes later.

When I was a teenager, being able to navigate Bell Circle, in Revere, at rush hour was deemed a rite of passage by every older man who ever mentored a kid on the near North Shore. I managed, back then. Nowadays, Bell is a shadow of its former self, thanks to properly placed traffic lights and yield signs that are actually obeyed by those approaching them. I was at my Mom’s place of residence, twenty minutes after leaving Logan International Airport. The once terrifying Near North Shore traffic had lost its menace.

Mom was silent, but she opened her eyes, just a bit, and grasped my hand, as I spoke to her and kissed her forehead. Her breath and pulse are still discernible and I know she was able to hear us singing along to James Taylor’s and Carole King’s performances of timeless songs, like “You’ve Got A Friend”. Dave and Deb left, after about an hour, and I stayed on until the night nurse got there. She had her own struggles to get to work, in the rain, but in the end, all was well. I bid Mom good night, promising to come back tomorrow morning.

The elevator to the first floor found me stuck inside, due to a brief power outage, then everything came back on. I was “rescued” by another night nurse who was waiting on the first floor. The drive from Lynnfield to Bedford was made in the rain, and of course once near the motel, GPS got bollixed up and sent me to the next lot over. As I backed up in that lot, to turn around, a random guy wandered from behind my vehicle, because that’s what happens, when it’s dark, rainy and late at night. We are always expected to be on game. He was a security guard for the lot’s owner, it turned out, and was not unpleasant.

Now, I’m in my comfortable room and rest will come easy.

8 thoughts on “No Flight of Fancy

  1. It sounds like a rather harrowing trip, but I’m happy that your mom knew you were there (remember that hearing is the last sense to go, so light conversational talk is good even though it brings no response!).

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