Think that title is melodramatic enough?
The abend before the flight, ( I'm trying to win some points from Marita, too), I stayed dowstairs and slept on the couch.
No point in going up to bed, I'm only going to toss and turn and moan and groan all night anyway, besides, sometimes my back does better on the squishier couch.
I found out a long time ago, that everything my folks had taught me about how you need a hard bed to avoid back trouble is horse hockey!
I barely slept at all, and when I finally did fall into a real sleep, suddenly there was this face over me:
"Steve,,, Steve, wake up, it's time."
And I slugged her,
right between the eyes!
Well, I wanted to.
I tentatively took care of business, while thinking it might be a little bit better today.
The power of suggestion.
The power of optimism.
The power of stupidity.
But I was also so tired,,kind of punch drunk, slaphappy.
At 3:20 we were ready, at 3:25 the doorbell rang, I told her I'll get it.
"Who is it?" I yelled through the door.
Now, doing this, suddenly made me think of Cheech and Chong, and I had to play:
"Taxi", a voice on the other side replied.
"Taxi"? I said back.
"Yes, taxi" once more.
"Oh, taxi" I said, "Taxi's not h".
Smidgy reached over and flung open the door with this huge, "TSK".
As they are loading up the cab, I'm running through my checklist one last time:
Water heater lowered
Ice maker off
food out for the cats
extrat litter boxes out
shut off the water to the washer and dryer
Actually, just the washer, our dryer runs on gas and electric power, not hydroelectric power.
It's a good idea to turn the washer water off before a trip, that hose is under constant pressure, and if it should pop when your not home, there will be no stopping it.
Annnnnnnnnnnnnd, we're off!
No, I didn't say it this time, that can only be said in the Santa Fe.
Turns out the cab driver once picked up Smidgy at the VFW after work and drove her home on a night it snowed.
In the taxi.
To OUR home.
Geesh!
It's over a half hour to O'Hare, and now I've got time to worry.
I have a total of 12 Vikes in my script bottle, and an extra
12 stronger, Percs. Let's just say I found these at the back of the medicine cabinet from a long, long, time ago.
But no script bottle for them, which is why I dumped them in with the vikes.
Totally, undeniably, against the law, narcotics must always be transported in their own prescription bottle, and the penalty isn't just getting sent to bed without dessert.
I have made sure there is nothing objectionable in my carry on to attract attention, even my toothbrush is in my checked bag, in case they thought I might want to overpower 200 passengers on the plane with my Oral B.
So, that's 4 doses of vikes and 5 from the others.
But all I'm doing is picturing Brad Davis playing the part of Billy Hayes, as he tried to leave a Turkish airport with Hashish strapped around his waist, which is where the line in Airplane comes from, and no, I don't want to see the inside of a Turkish Prison.
However; "Looks like I picked a bad week to quit painkillers."
By the way, the actor Brad Davis?
Died from AIDS quite a long time ago.
Once again, we got the talkative cabby.
I never really like to hold conversations to the back of somebody's head, but not much choice with this guy.
At least he wasn't as bad as one guy we got on the way to the airport:
He would just not shut up, and even when I talked to Smidgy, he would answer, thinking I'm talking to him.
One time,, after Smdgy said something to me, he actually said,, "You talkin' to me?", and I know he didn't realize what he, the taxi driver, had just said. She and I almost died.
The cab pulls up outside the United terminal, (terminal? hate that word)
, unloads our stuff and I take the new suitcases with the wheels and retractable handle, Smidgy is doing the heavy lifting.
Then, we couldn't get inside, the doors were locked with a sign on the glass,
"Please use other door" with an arrow pointing to the left.
"What is this, a mom and pop airport?" I said.
I have expected to see, "Out to breakfast, back in 20 minutes."
Then we walked, and walked and walked, "The runway isn't this long!"
Finally, we get in, find out where we have to go and get in what just amazed me,,,,, a huge, loong line.
There was ONE window open, taking about 10 minutes for each person.
After 15 minutes of standing there, my back was starting to scream, and I kept looking at the carry on with great longing.
Suddenly, about 4 more workers came out from the back and opened new windows, while others were directing people to use these electronic touch machines, which are totally useless because a worker had to walk us through it anyway.
Our two bags are checked, yes, all the alcohol is in them.
(darn Smidgy)
And, on cue, as we turn towards the security checkpoint, my heart starts pounding.
"Oh please don't send me to prison, I really don't like men, that way, Oh please, oh please, ,, what if I end up sharing a cell with, with,,,,,,
Rod Blagojevich!
(It's possible that joke fell on it's face to folks outside of Illinois, I don't know how national news our governor going to prison is anymore when it happens every 8 years or so.
)
Do you realize that both of our last two governors are in prison?
I was 11 years old and shook hands with Governor Kerner at the State Fair when I was there for an accordian concert, then they sent him to prison, too.
Maybe it's me.
Back on track;
I have found that the workers at the airport,, ok, ok, TSA, fall into two categories, they are either somnambulists, or Sargeant Hulka drillmasters, or IQ 83 morons.
We started with the sleepwalkers checking our boarding passes and ID's.
Then we got IQ 83 who didn't know which way we should now go,
followed by:
"Move it move it, SHOES OFF, HATS OFF, MOVE IT MOVE IT, IN THE BASKET, SHOES OFF HATS OFF!
I just knew I was dead meat, yes, even I was intimidated, on top of being scared to death. That's a great combination.
This is all taking place at quarter to 5 in the morning, I thought it would be a breeze walkthrough.
I kicked off my shoes, Smidgy put them in a basket for me, I whipped off my jacket and through that in too, and '
carefully, oh, so carefully, place my carryon right behind my basket.
Then, I started to follow Smidgy into the golden scanning archway.
This time it wasn't Sargeant Hulka, but Lou Gossett Jr. himself in my face:
"What part of "take your hats off" didn't you understand?
I'm six one, and he towered over me.
I thought he was going to make me drop and do 20,,,,
,,, which means we'd still be there today.
I am about to pass through, when suddenly, the nickel once again drops in, and I remember that in my pocket is One, Single, Lousy, Ativan.
This is similar to Vallium or Xanax, not in the same category as the percs, but still needs to be in it's original bottle I think.
The point is, I was supposed to have swallowed this little, tiny thing by now, and there it sits in my pocket!
"See Ma? That's one of the reasons!"
"What is that in your pocket Mr. Nebo,, and while we are at it, let's see what's in your bag."
Well....nothing I can do about that now, I'd look like I'm trying to swallow contraband.
I walked through.
And nothing happened when I walked through, which always surprises me because I was told that the hardware still in my foot may set off metal detectors, if pills in the pockets don't.
I caught up to Smidgy who was waiting for our stuff to come out of the "Tunnel of Love", and here comes her fanny pack/purse/whatever, then her carry on, then comes our "personal item" we can bring on the plane provided it fits under the seat, which has books and snacks in it.
Then, finally, comes my basket.
Followed by a lot of empty space.
No, I didn't bring any empty space, as a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I used it up when I put my carry on down.
My hear is bursting out of my chest by now,, nothing, still, nothing,, "Where in the hell is it?"
As Diane and I both leaned over to look into the tunnel,,
the conveyor shut down!
What a great place to end the chapter, no?
ok, see you all tomorrow,,
All right, all right, dang, every time I say I'm going to shorten a report, I end up making it into War and Pieces.
When the conveyor stopped, I just stood back, ready to hold my wrists out to be cuffed, either the technology is now so sophisticated that it can tell percocets in a vicodin bottle,,,,
or they have a little tiny dwarf hidden inside the tunnel of love, and he's still sampling them.
Yep, Istanbul here I come! Midnight Express, Part Deaux.
Diane sees the look on my face, and says quietly, "Steve, this is no time to panic."
"It's a GREAT time to panic! Join me, won't you?"
You know what it's time for now, right?
Lou Gosset Jr. walked over, came right up to me and I was waiting for a, "Well,, May-o-Naise, what have we got in the bag?" Instead, he gave me a "move it' look, which I readilly did, then, without even bending over and looking, reached all ten feet of his tentacled arm into the tunnel and withdrew my carry on, and a small, child's, gym shoe.
He then nodded his head to God and the conveyor started up again.
Apparently, sometimes things fall out of the basket, then hang up on the sidewall and everything jams up behind it.
I grabbed my carion and we took off!
but I'm still keeping an eye out for codeine sniffing dogs!
Finally, we stopped at a bench and put our shoes back on.
I let out a big sigh of relief, a lot of worry for nothing.
Hey, I'm good at it, they say you should do what you're good at.
Ooh, remind me to bring some Yummies with next time, just in case I need to throw a dog off my trail.
So, we survived so far, and as we walked the three miles down to gate 32. This started with a long, moving walkway, then a two story escalator ride down, another long, moving walkway that ended with an escalator ride back up.
Why? I have no idea.
Tell me;
Do you walk, on the moving walkways?
Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose? Ditto for escalators?
We still had a long walk after all this, eventually we landed at Gate 32, which is in central Indiana.
But the whole way there, all the while as we trudged along;
I had only one thought that kept going through my mind, one thought....
That security scanner was for carry on and personal items to be scanned,,,,,
You mean there's a kid walking around with only one shoe?
Good night, and may God bless
nebo