I don’t like flying. I never have. Other than the boredom that seems to grasp me tightly, placing me in an impenetrable choke hold or the disconcerting realization that I have nowhere to go but the lavatory, I think it’s because I’m either going somewhere I’d rather not or I’ve departed a place I didn’t really want to.
(The captain has just announced that we are flying over Richmond, VA)
In this instance, I believe I’ve gotten a really bad case of the latter. A few hours ago I was in Augusta, Georgia spending time with someone very important to me. (Lately these trips to the Peach State have been occurring every other week.) Filled with creepy-ass gay clowns, vats of what A has called “smoked salmon nibbley things” before massive light dinners at home, and the ever so humorous Jewish Blitzkrieg attacks from the starboard side, my paradoxical time Georgia was magnificent.
(The captain has just announced that we are crossing the Potomac)
These bi-monthly visits aren’t always action-packed. They don’t have to be. Some of the best times have been spent in the kitchen preparing meals so I can have the pleasure of watching the happy dance, helping A with the DIY – or in this case, stand-there-and-watch William – home improvements or simply laying on what one has claimed to be the worlds most comfortable couch. ( It probably is.)
(The captain has just announced that we are crossing the Delaware River)
Too often, we hear that all good things must come to an end. I guess in that I-can’t-look-past- the-present kind of way, it’s true: My time in Augusta was limited and now I must return to my world. But in recent months, I’ve learned to look past that. Everything is real. Augusta is part of “my world.” So in that I-can-see-the-macro kind of way, this is all part of the bigger picture where someone special is waiting for me on the other side. Nothing has ended.
(Philadelphia is underneath me)
Nothing has ended with my departure. There may be a slight intermission between the creepy-ass gay clown circus and a much needed pause from the bottomless caloric well o’ smoked-salmon-nibbley things, but soon enough the Jewish Blitzkriegs will resume once again.
I can’t wait.
1 comment:
It's ironic to me that you despise (or fear; I don't quite remember how you described it) the one thing that includes Agusta "your world".
If there's one thing that I've learned, it's that no matter how big, bad, and scary this world may seem, it's really a lot smaller, nicer, and pleasant than we make it out to be.
Post a Comment