Wouldn't you know it? I think as soon as I make plane reservations, I set in motion some series of events which will ultimately lead to an increase in my already pervasive fear of flying. Better yet, maybe I'm so attached to San Diego that when I plan on leaving, even for a few days, things start happening on a metaphysical level that creates a certain chaos that ultimately keeps me from fully enjoying my time away. Case in point number one: Two years ago, I had plans to meet my parents in San Antonio for a weekend. The night before I'm to fly out, I break out in the worst and only case of hives I've ever had. Spending a June day on the River Walk while trying to block out the fact that your hands are itching to the point of intolerable pain does not make for a pleasant vacation. I couldn't even enjoy the Alamo, though I'm not sure being hiveless would have done anything to add to my experience at the place. Point number two: Last October, the company that pays my bills finally wanted me to do a little traveling. I was to attend a conference in Baltimore. Having never been there, I looked forward to touring the old city, seeing the Poe grave, eating crab, singing my version of the Star Spangled Banner at Fort McHenry. So of course, a few weeks before I'm to travel, a couple of morons with a weapon start randomly gunning down people in the area. While they didn't do any of their snipering in the greater Baltimore area, I was still a little too nervous to go walking around in the open. In no way did I want to be a feature story on Dateline NBC. (In an act of uncommon bravado, I made the trip to Poe’s grave, hiding behind every possible tombstone and watching both ways before I crossed the street.)
So now that I’m on the eve of my first trip to Atlanta in seven years, it figures that the good folks at ready.gov would feel the need to boost our terrorism alert level to orange. I was just getting comfortable back at yellow and was hoping that all of our billions spent in the opium fields of Afghanistan and the oil fields of Iraq would be sending us toward yellow. But alas, orange it is…at least it isn’t red. Would I even fly if we were in red? Probably. I once played baseball through a tornado warning. I go to work everyday in a high rise that sits on an earthquake fault. My car doesn’t have air bags. I’m a passive risk taker, I suppose. So I’ll wrap my carry-on in duct tape and take to the air.
Atlanta awaits. Thankfully it appears that the temperature is going to be moderate, enough so that any humidity will be tolerable. I’m looking forward to getting back to the South for a few days.
So you might not see an updated blog for a few days. If I’m able, I’ll post from the road. If not, stay safe…I’ll eat a watermelon slice for you!
