The Epic Continues...

My first plane ride...ever.

After getting everything packed and dropping the dog off at the kennel, we arrived at Ford Airport.  I had been there before on a few a occasions but it had been a while.  It's a small airport that currently only has small twin prop planes.  I didn't know what one of these was until this point due to my never having flown.  There was a short scare because we couldn't find my boarding passes (one from here to Minneapolis and another from there to Kansas City) but the young girl at the desk was kind enough to offer to print copies of them out for me.

Security check.  I have been through one of these before.  It was about four years ago and it was so that my classmates and I could go on a ferry to Ellis and Staten Island.  I can't say that I remember it much but I'm pretty sure I didn't have to take my shoes off. At any rate, it was fast paced and exciting and before I knew it I was on the plane.  Now, it should be noted that I had been on a plane prior to this.  It was however an old army plane and it was on display for tour.  Funny enough, that had also been here during Ford Airport Day.  That was my "big plane experience" till this point.  Now, I was on a plane, one that was going to take off any minute with me in it.  My parents had flown before; my mom flew to visit her mom (rest her soul) and my dad flew when the two of them went on their honeymoon.  Needless to say it's been a while for them both.  They didn't seem too bothered though.  They were like seasoned veterans.  I, on the other hand, was as noob as you can get.

We taxied around for a little a while before we took off.  I know that taxiing is what everyone does before their flight takes off and that it's an unimportant detail but I wanted an excuse to try out my flying vernacular.  As I was saying...  We taxied around for a little while at about five to ten miles an hour before we took off.  This isn't so bad, I thought.  Before we did, though, the flight attendant or stewardess or whatever it is that's politically correct these days, instructed us to look over the emergency escape instructions in the back pocket of the seat in front of us, as well as what to do if we were one of the individuals fortunate enough to be seated in the emergency exit row.  I was reminded, at this time, of a favorite comedian of mine who talked about sitting in that seat.  It made me feel a little better.

Shortly after, we were on the runway and the slow crawling pace that we had been traveling at was no longer slow or crawling.  And like that, the ground fell away and we were up in the air.  Normally, we drive to Minnesota.  My cousin and his family live in a suburb over and both families have a cabin on a lake a bit further West so we make the trip about twice a year.  The plane ride there was well under half the time.

I didn't really know what to expect.  It was a mixture of smooth flying and turbulence.  I have to say my stomach felt a little queasy during the bumpy portion of the ride but what what I got to see out the window while there wasn't any turbulence was worth all the butterflies in the world.  The view was outstanding...and a privilege.  It's amazing what beauty is all around us all of the time.  We don't see it, though, because we're in it.  We're just a small part of the big painting of life.  And the Master Painter get's to see it everyday.  What a privilege it was to see the world from that angle.  Trees, and rivers and lakes...oh and squares of farmland that went on for miles.  I could go on and on.  There were complimentary snacks aboard, as well as beverages.  All we could eat, pretty much.  Cookies and peanuts and pretzels, along with juice and pop.  Alcohol, though available, wasn't free.

Eventually, the fasten your seatbelt light came on, which I hadn't dared to unclip in the first place, and either the flight attendant/stewardess or the pilot told us that we would would be landing in a few minutes.  This, I've decided, is the part of the flight that I enjoy the least.  My very first landing.  It wasn't actually half bad though.  Much better than the ones that were to come.  There was a movable catwalk that greeted us as we moved toward the door of the plane.  (When we had gotten on in Iron Mountain, we went outside and boarded via the door that folded down into stairs.  Here, we were covered by the catwalk as we left the plane and entered into the Minneapolis - St. Paul International Airport.

To be continued...

Walking the walk

I've think I may have learned, or re-learned, over the past several weeks, that taking the path of least resistance, though quite obviously the easiest, isn't always the best...  And it doesn't help when it seems like no matter what I do, I just can't please everyone (something that I try very hard to do as much as I can).  Someone is going to be unhappy with the outcome.

A story of epic proportions!

Let’s see, where do I start?

From the beginning, of course!  I must confess that I won’t have written this all in order but I’ll publish it that way for your reading convenience.  Never mind, pretend I didn’t say that.  I should have started with this: Allow me to start from the beginning.  See now that sounds a lot better doesn’t it.  These days, however, it seems that stories are quite successful when the start somewhere in the middle, or even at the end for that matter, have a “flash back” and work their way toward wherever the reader was started at.  Water for Elephants, The Art of Racing in the Rain, and some other third, unnamed story for symmetry, are all examples of stories that start somewhere other than the beginning of the story.  I don’t so much care if I’m successful, as much as I just want to get my story out there.  I don’t need any gimmicks to make it a popular story. Having said that, I now must confess to you that I am beginning to write this story as I sit, nearly at the end of the journey.  But beginning my story at the end isn’t what’s going to make it a good story.  What’s going to make it a good story is that it’s a good story.  Like I said, I don’t need any gimmick’s to draw a crowd.  So, as I sit here in this black, leather, terminal chair that was not designed to sleep in, in this impressive, city-of-an-airport, I start to type away at my laptop and reflect, recounting my tale of excitation, celebration, and then, frustration.

And so it begins…

Goodbye to the Graduates

Saying goodbye is never something I look forward too.  Although, I, myself, am not graduating.  I have a few good friends that are.  And I'd like to say that I know I'll see them again, but I don't really know.  While they were going to school, while we were all going to school, I thought I could see them any time, and so I would keep putting it off.  Now they're leaving and for all I know I may never see some of them again.  It helps me appreciate the times I did have with them as well as the friends that are still up here, regardless of how well I know them.

Your's In Writing