The Flight

Our pastor on Kaua'i and his wonderful wife were good enough to take us out to eat before dropping us at the airport.  We had such a good time visiting that we were pushing the clock to make the flight.

We get to the airport and start the baggage check.  Two suitcases - both overweight.  They offer to let us shift contents so that only one was overweight and subject to the $100 charge.  (Thanks - but what a challenge!)  Well, there's my Bible.  It's a biggie - maybe four pounds there.  Binoculars, another pound or two.  My kitchen tools that I'm inseparable from, there's a few pounds there.  John's can of coins; they don't add up to much - unless you're talking weight!  Add a lil' of this, and a lil' of that, and that ought to do it.

Back to the counter.  The attendant, I'm sure having been through this routine many times, is very surprised that I'm right on the money with my weight change!  (Now if I could shift my personal weight over to some other ol' bag...)  She accepts the two suitcases, and moves us and our carry-ons over to security screening.

I know the routine here, too.  (What a pain.)  Shoes, pocket contents and hoodie in tote #1, laptop out of its sleeve and into tote #2, sleeve in tote #3, open printer carrier, place printer in #4, carrier in #5, carry-on tote with purse, camera, etc. in #6, Granpa's shoes and pocket contents in #7, open overnight bag, remove CPAP, place in #8, bag itself goes in #9.  (Good grief!  Why bother to pack?  Next time I'll just bring it all in in totes on a cart!)

Finally, I get to step through the security portal.  An alarm goes off, and an announcement is made that I am the lucky winner of a random security search of all belongings.  Really?  You're kidding?  No?  It has been such a long, long day.  Most of my errands were in the rain - and I left the umbrella in the apartment.  Up and down stairs doing laundry.  I had to stop everything at lunch and look vivacious for Granpa's aloha party at the hospital, pack everything, clean the apartment, then look vivacious for the dinner with the pastor and his wife.  Now this.  Well, at least I don't have to look vivacious - which is good, 'cause I think I'm completely out of vi-va!

All totes have to be moved off of the conveyor, and a special agent needs to be summoned.  No worries.  We can do this!  Granpa is backing me up all the way.

Guess what?  They found nothing suspicious.  Nada.  Can you imagine that?

So, we're left to repack the whole kit and caboodle.  And it all GOES back!  (How many times have you tried to repack and something no longer fits?)

On to the gate area, and I can finally sit down.  Not.  Every single seat is taken including the floor along the walls.  We stand, without even being able to lean against the wall, for almost thirty minutes.  You know how romantic it seems to have a job that lets you fly all over the country?  It wasn't even romantic before 9-11...  Now, a job that lets you drive all over the country, now that's the ticket I want.  Hey!  Wait a minute!  That's the job we have (except when we go to Kaua'i.)  And instead of the "company" saying fly here or drive there, we get to choose where we want to go - or not.  Good deal!  What am I talking about?  GREAT deal!

Finally, they start everyone boarding.  When I find my seat, I plop down, and that is all she wrote 'til we landed at LAX for a six hour layover.  (Oh, please...)