Widen That Stance!

Traveled for the first time since the start of the pandemic —why not share some fun stories?

I sure do think I am the smart one when I book my flight to arrive the night before so I won’t be frazzled and rushing to get to Virginia for a meeting that starts at noon. That flight gets cancelled. I grumble a bit, get booked on a flight the next morning (leaving from a different airport) and head down to my son’s championship baseball game. The silver lining of the cancelled flight is that I don’t have to miss the game. That silver loses a bit of of its sheen when they come up short on the scoreboard (and when my eardrum gets blown out between innings because I’m sitting way too close to the sound system), but their season has exceeded expectations and players and coaches all say they had a blast. I am grateful to be there. We also stop at Wendy’s on the way home and that is always a very good thing in my book.

Getting to Boston the next morning is a bit tricky — a train makes the most sense so I set my alarm to get up at 5:45 to catch a 7 am train. Take a quick look at email before hopping in the shower. Flight cancelled. (Something is going on with American Airlines—a quick Google search indicates it’s weather and a staffing shortage.) After moping briefly about not being able to go because American can’t get me on any flights, I shift to Plan B and buy a ridiculously overpriced one-way ticket on Delta with plans to fight with American Airlines later. Hubs drives me up to Boston. Off I go.

Upon arrival, airport personnel swarm me to tell me that my carry-on is too big. I tell them that I’ve brought it on many trips before—“well, you can see what they say but I’m telling you, it’s too big.” I roll the dice. I am already having thoughts of solidarity with Ben Stiller in the film Meet The Parents, feeling like I too might cause a scene and dare the nearest Delta employee to try and pry my small suitcase from my “dead lifeless fingers.” (Watch this scene!)

When I get to the Grand Poobah of bag sizes, I slide right through with nary a raised eye-brow. Victory is mine.

That victory is short-lived. I quickly become that pathetic passenger whose bag literally does not fit in the overhead. I easily place it in over the overhead compartment but the flight attendant’s spidey-sense kicks in—she comes right over and tries to shut it once, tries again and concludes, “this bag is too big.”

Cue the sad trombone and the wondering in my head, “am I confusing this suitcase with a different one?” A definite possibility.

So off I go from the aircraft to become that sucker who is walking against the traffic of passengers coming down the tunnel, with my suitcase (that I now hate) so I can get a baggage tag. The bright side immediately reveals itself, however, when I ask the kind woman with tags, if I have to time to run to the bathroom one last time. She looks at her watch, smiles bright and says, “actually, you do!”

And with that, I am leaving on a jet-plane but unlike John Denver, I do not “hate to go."

I forget my headphones, of course, so I dive into the new novel, A Good Mother by Lara Bazelon. The recommendation comes from Brown professor, economist, and public commentator Glenn Loury during his recent conversation with the author, who is also a law professor. As an aside, I highly recommend you watch/listen to this episode of Glenn’s show, especially if you enjoy and crave smart and respectful conversations between people who have fundamental disagreements and share common ground that they want to discuss with one another. Watch or listen to the whole thing—it takes some unexpected turns and I found it profoundly moving.

Speaking of good mothers, I get to be one shortly after landing. My ‘I landed safely’ call turns into a call about how my oldest son’s car has over-heated so bad that it looks like a small house fire. The car is being towed (which brings back so many memories of the actual s*** boxes I used to drive that had me riding shotgun in a tow-truck more than once, including out of my high school parking lot.) Because I am traveling and flying in and out of different airports, my car is sitting at home in the driveway ready and waiting for a teenage boy whose car has just gone up in a puff of smoke. But the miracle is that it also has an almost full tank of gas—anyone who knows me well can tell you that my gas light is almost always on. It seems wise to hang up the phone, send a text about the gassed up car ready and waiting and relish a bit in the fact that I am a plane ride away from the chaos on the home front.

Turns out to be a cracked radiator and broken radiator fan. No big deal and not surprising for a 2008 with lots of miles on it but a drag for a kid in his first month of freedom as a licensed driver.

The Lobster Roll

(If you have a weak stomach, this section might not be for you…)

Who doesn’t love a couple days away with colleagues and friends that includes dinner and drinks? Sure sounds dreamy to this mom of three who hasn’t gone *anywhere* in forever.

Stimulating conversation, camaraderie and laughter is always a gift but especially after so many months of meetings on Zoom.

Fast forward to 3 am when I can’t figure out what is wrong with me. Heartburn? Heart attack? Anxiety? I feel so sick.

And I get so sick. I think it’s food poisoning (and that sounds way less lame than being so unused to going out that I can’t handle a few drinks and a big meal.)

Now I’m going to have to embarrass myself and tell the hotel staff that the towel neatly laid on the rug is covering up something really gross. I do get a laugh out of telling my boss that "the $29 lobster roll she bought me the night before is on the floor of my room in case she wants it back.”

The morning is the kind when all you want to is a cold ginger ale. Thanks to my extra nurturing colleague, I get one.

All good.

Going Home

Perhaps my favorite part of my return trip is when the TSA screener tells the guy next to me to "widen his stance."

Me: "You sound like a baseball coach."

Him: (big smile) “But can this guy hit?!"

Oh, right before that I wave the white flag and decide to just check my damn bag. “That will be $30.” Note to self that it’s more economical to deny that your bag is too big and get it checked at the gate for free. And seriously, can the airline really not come up with a bag-check receipt that doesn’t look *exactly* like the boarding pass—because that would be really helpful for people with brains like mine.

I don’t take it personally when the guy seated beside me wipes down every inch of his seat and tray table with an anti-bacterial wipe provided by the airline. I have plenty of friends who did that before they had ever heard the word COVID. If he had started wiping down my forehead, I might have felt a bit differently. I also wonder why the airline doesn’t provide masks with straw-holes. They are so adamant in their repeated announcements about passengers ONLY pulling down their masks to take a bite of food or a sip of a drink, it seems that a cool marketing ploy could be a mask and straw twin-set. Basically the COVID version of this:

Oh, my bad. Just looked and these mask/straw twin-sets already exist. So basically this but with company logos and pictures of airplanes and hot flight attendants.

Hope this note finds everybody well despite a world that increasingly feels like it’s going crazy. I find that repeat episodes of The Office, Veep and Everybody Loves Raymond are a helpful coping mechanism. And petting my dogs works too.

Talk soon.

~Erika