AIRPLANES 4/22/07

When I was a kid, my dad took me on vacations. I had the first airplane ride of my memory with him...and the second, third, and fourth. Actually, my mother never ventured outside of New Jersey in my memory until I became an adult and she went to San Francisco on a sort of work convention. I don't know how she got there.

With my dad and wife number 2, I went to Expo '68, Bermuda, and Aruba and Curacao. He explained the workings of the wings, gave me chewing gum for the air pressure, and introduced me to Eastern Airlines version of food. We didn't know about terrorists blowing up airplanes back then. I don't remember if we knew about airplanes getting hijacked-- well if we did, they were getting hijacked from far away places to other far away places. We did know about the Bermuda triangle though and his rational explanations countered the rather irrational ones which were popular among the fearful maternal relations.

Flying became no big deal.

I do remember the seven suitcases that my dad and wife #2 packed for seven days in Bermuda and his willingness to pay the extra surcharges. The suitcases were full of clothes [not books, as husband's and mine tend toward] and there was no way possible that those clothes could be thinned out.

Here I sit in a fancy hotel in the financial district of San Francisco [my ex travel agent hates me and I hate her] with my singular pair of pants that zip off into shorts, two sets of undies, the zip-up outer shirt, the long-sleeve shirt and the short-sleeve shirt drip drying in the bathroom. Oh yes, and two out of three pairs of socks. These particular clothes supposedly dry within four hours. Some of them do. For the rest, there is always the blow dryer in the morning.

The two bathing suits and the nightshirt/cover up have not had to be washed yet. And I keep sending home the souvenirs. I've already mailed home one jacket [weather is too hot here], a bunch of rocks from Illinois, a railroad fan magazine, a couple of tee shirts from Lou's Diner in Chicago. I have one paperback acquired in Denver and another railroad fan magazine and the Amtrak hat and the scarf with the trains on it set aside for the next package home.

Big Ed told me "That doesn't sound like enough clothes" when I told him what I was planning to do about clothing. Every time I am lugging my singular suitcase and singular bag containing my c-pap machine, I am glad glad glad that I didn't take any more clothing than I did.

When I get to Phoenix, I can buy some nice cotton clothing for my five days there and then mail them back home too. And before I leave Sedona for the Phoenix airport, I will be mailing home my water sandals, bathing suits, and my supposedly dries in four hours clothes too. Now that is traveling light.

sapphoq on life