July 16, 2009

I almost had to drive across the country and back.

My 40th class reunion was scheduled—somewhat abruptly—for July 17th and 18th. I wanted to go. I wanted Michael to go, because he's my husband and the other kids from high school would have their spouses there. And of course my ex-wife and current friend, Mary, should go because she was in my high school graduating class and it would be her reunion, too.

But that meant three plane tickets, which would be kind of expensive—and I would have to pay for them. So I looked into alternatives, which included simply driving all the way from Mesa, Arizona to St. Augustine, Florida. I added up the miles, figured how much gasoline it would cost—nearly $1000—and added in food and motels.

Now, I never plan a trip that I don't try to milk it for as much as I can get. It occurred to me that, if we were going to drive anyway, it wouldn't really add that many miles to come back by way of Virginia (where we could visit our two oldest daughters, who live near Reston). And I really miss Colorado, and we could come back by way of there, which would allow us to visit one of Michael's nieces, who lives in Denver.

But, best of all—we could bring our grandson, Zachary, at virtually no additional expense. He could visit his aunts, and his great-aunts (my sisters) in St. Augustine. So that's how I planned it out.

Mary was, at first, excited. But then she began to develop second thoughts about making such a long road trip. She worried that her back would hurt her, especially since we would have to make the run East somewhat aggressively so I wouldn't miss that much work. So, at the last minute, she backed out.

Now, if I had been facing just two air tickets, Michael and I could have flown cheaply enough that I would never have considered driving. But now Zachary was excited, and his aunts were excited, and his great-aunts. And frankly, so was I. So I rearranged the itinerary to not stop in New Orleans, where Mary was born, and instead visit the Alamo, which would be more interesting to Zach.

Meanwhile, Zach's mother, my third daughter, Jenny, was also uncomfortable with the idea of a long car ride...because she doesn't like long car rides. So she worked really hard at finding bargain air tickets and car rental that wouldn't cost more than the road trip, even including time to visit Virginia (by driving there and back from Florida). She succeeded, and I agreed to make the trip that way, because, frankly, I wasn't looking forward to that long a drive, either. The fact is, I've driven cross-country twice as a professional trucker and three times as a civilian. As they say, "Been there, done that" and the thrill is long gone for me. This way, we'd be able to spend more time visiting family and sightseeing. So the tickets were bought.

I had printed our tickets the night before. Our seats were not adjacent, but the guy at the ticket counter was happy to give us new seat assignments that were.

We've all heard how the airline industry is "struggling" (despite record profits). In addition to charging for checked luggage—which simply keeps people from checking luggage—they have found new places to cut costs and gain revenue. For example, our 5+ hour flight across the country had no movie or even audio entertainment. They charged for box lunches. And the seat tray tables now bore advertising.

Oh, well. Zach sat by the window; I sat in the middle and Michael got the aisle. This was Zach's first flight in a couple of years and he was now old enough to be concerned about plane crashes and fiery deaths. Fortunately, both Michael and I were relaxed enough to show that we were not concerned; and there were no panicky travelers in our immediate vicinity. (I thought more than once about my cyberfriend, Dave White, who is going through fear-of-flying therapy right now.) I explained everything he felt, the rush of the takeoff, the changes in altitude and why they were made, how to clear his ears when they felt stuffy and why that happened.

I know several adults I wouldn't want to sit next to during a 5+ hour flight. But Zach was no problem. He was chatty, of course, marveling over the tops of the clouds and the fields down below ("I had no idea so much of the country was farmland!" he exclaimed at one point) and wondering where we were. He had brought three of his stuffed animal friends and he held them up to the window so they, too, could enjoy the view. (Yes, he knows they aren't real. But he still likes to treat them as if they are.)

Michael and I have both been following the Atkins diet for months, and with success—not only have we lost weight, but we both feel better in ways that are unrelated to our respective sizes. However, I knew that during this trip there was no point to trying to avoid refined carbohydrates. Atkins permits occasional vacations from the diet. I knew I'd put on a couple of pounds as a consequence, but I also knew I could lose it when I returned home. They say travel is broadening; I was willing to broaden a little to make this vacation more enjoyable.

However, I resented paying for boxed lunches filled with small potions of food I wouldn't normally select, dieting or not. So we had lunch before boarding, and got dinner during our 2-hour layover in Charlotte. Result: Lunch cost me $30 for pizza at Pizza Hut, pizzas too large for lunch for one person but too small to share. And dinner at Charlotte airport's Burger King was $45 freaking dollars. And at that they didn't have the chicken nuggets Zach wanted, nor the onion rings that were his second choice. (They were just about to close.)

I thought the Charlotte-to-Jacksonville leg would be two hours, but it was less than one. This time the guy at the counter—different guy at a different counter, of course—couldn't get us adjacent seats. But the lady assigned to sit between Michael and Zach was happy to trade with me, so we sat together anyway.

In Jacksonville I described how different the airport looks now compared to my first visit there in 1967. We went to the Dollar car rental desk and in minutes were seated in our prepaid rental Kia, with plenty of room for our bags and a kick-ass stereo for the custom-mix CDs I'd packed. I set up the GPS (which I didn't really need to get to my sister's house) and away we went.

As last as it was locally (after midnight) by our time it was only mid-evening. So Zach enjoyed a good look at Jacksonville as we passed through. He did fall asleep by the time we got to my sister, Louise's. Louise, always the perfect hostess, had warm apple pie ready for us. We chatted briefly with her and my brother-in-law, Mikey, before turning in. Zach was placed on the fluffy, comfortable sofa while Michael and I got the guest room. I was a little worried that Zach might be nervous about sleeping in a strange place by himself; but there was no problem at all.

The next day would include sightseeing in St. Augustine, and the first of two reunion events. I might have been too excited, myself, to sleep. But no; I was out like a light, broadening as I snored.