Departure And Arrival

This is basically what Will and I look like minutes before we depart home on a vacation:

And I knew that once I showed him this photo, we'd begin arguing over which one of us was the cat. And sure enough, I showed him this and in two seconds he said, "Oh yeah...there we are. You're definitely the cat."

And I immediately retorted, "No! You're the cat!"

And he replied, "No...I'm the dog.

And I said, "NO! I'm the dog!"

I don't know about you, but I love getting in arguments over things like this.

So, the morning that we left for Paris, tensions were high. We were leaving home at around 7:20, which was going to put us in this:

Los Angeles traffic. But then again, the above photo only has four lanes of traffic. You can add two more for what we got into at the 101 - 405 interchange.

So, after triple checking to make sure that the coffee maker was off, the toaster unplugged, the ignitions on the collection of vibrators were all in the "off" position and any literature pertaining to this,

was shoved far under the bed, Will and I put on our boxing gloves and headed for the door.

We were fine until we reached that interchange and then as we crawled around the merging ramp from the 101 South onto the 405 South, I wanted to scream, cry and punch an evangelical. We could've walked faster. And our luggage was on wheels, so it wasn't out of the question.

I managed to maneuver ourselves over to the carpool lane and we were moving again about 30 minutes later.

We arrived at the car-park place and the attendant wasn't going to let me use the toilet. I, as usual, had drank too much coffee, water and juice and was going to pull out my peep and do this,

right there and then if she didn't let me use it. I literally was on my tip-toes holding my crotch looking at her wide-eyed and said, "ARE YOU KIDDING???" I think that she knew I was gonna blow, so she let me in. Which is a good thing, because she would've been wearing it.

So, we arrived at the airport without mishap...or wet pants...or wet attendants. And this was good. We managed to retrieve our tickets and check our luggage and it all seemed quite easy for LAX, which should've been our first clue.

After we were airborne (on time), about an hour, maybe an hour and a half into our flight (you know what's coming), is when an odd sound like that of a cat in a dishwasher (not that I would truly know what that would sound like, but Will would be the cat) began emanating from the plane. There was a slight jolt and I took notice of the way in which my apple juice was swirling around in its cup. It just seemed different than normal turbulence. But, that's all I did was to take notice. I didn't think anything else about it.

A few minutes later is when the captain came over the loud speaker and instructed the flight attendants to cancel food service and for everyone to take their seats immediately. He instructed everyone to put their seats to an upright position, to raise and lock their tray tables and to stow all gear. He wasn't panicked, but was direct.

He also informed us that they had to extinguish an engine and we were being diverted to Albuquerque. He said that they had been trained for this and that everything was going to be fine. I believed him...for the most part. And hearing his strong, commanding voice was certainly better than hearing him scream, "LORD, HELP ME! WE'RE GOIN' DOWN!!! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE, FUCKERS!!!"

Meanwhile, the poor young woman sitting next to Will was beginning to whimper and gasp and this was obviously what she had in mind. I tried to comfort her, but I think that just made her more upset. She was in NO MOOD to be French kissing, especially a stranger. I should've practiced better judgment...or maybe better kissing.

Anyway, obviously a lot started passing through my mind. What if this was it? The final act? The last straw? The part where the last seconds of my life are summed up by me screaming my ass off only to have the last thing to go through my mind be my kneecaps?

I didn't feel like this was it, but how many people do? How many people just know that the end is minutes away? I'm not naive to think that it can't happen to me. Plenty has happened in my life to remind me that NO ONE is immune. Life doesn't discriminate and neither does death.

So, what if? I steeled myself, took a few deep breaths and put my hand on Will's knee. Hoping that if it wasn't going to be my own kneecaps going through my mind, that maybe it would be his.

It was a fast descent. The fastest I've ever been on. And I was okay, but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't a little scared. It didn't help that everytime some dumbass stood up to look around, one of the flight attendants would scream at the top of her lungs, "SIT DOWN RIGHT NOW!" Yeah, fucker. Keep your kneecaps to yourself.

As we were coming around to make the final approach onto the runway, I thought, "We're going to be okay...we're going to be okay...please, I have so much to blog about, so many people to irritate and piss off. Please let me have more time to make fun of more people...Please." And as we were banking and we were looking out the window down the right wing pointing to the ground, I saw it. I saw a large cloud of dust, sand and dirt being kicked up off the dry New Mexico floor by a wind storm.

For a fleeting moment, the wind hit the plane and we banked a bit too much for comfort. Everyone let out a little yelp, but even the silent ones were heard. The pilot corrected quickly and just as fast as the panic hit, it left.

We were on the ground in minutes. The firetrucks and a few guys in Haz Mat suits that were fast approaching the runway added to the surrealism of the moment. But, what was clearly real, was that we were okay. We were on mother Earth, holy ground. The entire planet is holy ground, as far as I'm concerned. And the plane exploded, but thankfully into applause. Everyone feeling a new sense of appreciation for their lives.

A shaking, breaking voice of a flight attendant came over the loud speaker to say; "Wel...come...to...Al...bu...quer...que..." A few of us broke out into laughter, some wiped tears from their eyes, some barf from their shirts.

The smell of an electrical fire permeated the airplane. And not a one of us could wait to get off that jet. But, when we pulled up to the gate, everyone was polite and humble. We all had a piece of humble pie that day. And everyone took their turn. No one rushed anyone else. We were no longer strangers.

And even though we had been diverted to a different destination than we all planned, we did arrive. We arrived safe and sound, not just at a location, but at a notion. At least for anyone who was paying attention.

It was crystal clear just what was important.

And what wasn't.