Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2019

There Has To Be A Better Way

WELL, IT IS TIME TO STRAP ON OUR WINGS AND FLY. We are heading down to Texas for a family visit. We are both very happy to be doing this for several reasons.

  1. We are looking forward to seeing everyone.
  2. Dawn’s Mother has better Wi-Fi than we do.
  3. It is warmer there than Indiana and we need to feel some heat.

Those three factors alone make this trip worthwhile. Actually, they would make any trip worthwhile.

When we make these excursions to Texas the snags that appear are all part of the “getting there” that we have to go through. Whoever came up with that “Getting there is half the fun” line must have been drinking the entire time.

We are going to be Down South for two weeks. Trying to decide what to pack becomes one of those Gordian Knot issues. “Should I take this? What if I need that?” In the end I want to haul out the old machete and start hacking. No matter what ends up in my bag I will discover (too late) that I’ve left behind something critical. This has happened so often that we are slowly building up a second trunk full of stuff down there. I personally have more combs, sweatshirts, and bottles of vitamins in Texas than I do at home in Indiana.

One of the big bumps in traveling down the road is food. Most times our flight from Indianapolis to Houston leaves at 8 AM which means that you better have your carcass at the airport at least 90 minutes beforehand. Add in the time it takes to wake up, get dressed, packed up and get to the airport…it makes for a hectic morning.

Somehow in the middle of all that I need to get something in my tummy so I can take my morning meds. It doesn’t have to be elegant, just in front of me. This time around I stuffed a bagel into a little baggie and wedged it in next to my computer. I was up and eating that bagel at 4:30 AM. I like bagels, but not at 4:30 AM. I’m just trying to be a good patient – and a live one.

Indy to Houston: About two hours and a few minutes.

Houston to Corpus Christi: About 34 minutes.

In between is a layover of about three and a half hours.

This is where food raises its deep fried head again. Given the one hour time difference we land in Houston at about 10 AM. I am not ready for lunch at 10 AM. I am not ready for regular breathing at 10 AM. I am ready for some coffee. Southwest Airlines must have known it was a desperate time of day for me because we landed at Gate 46 – directly across from Starbucks. I would live!

After my caffeine transfusion and a short nap we realized that we’d better get lunch or forget it. Our departure gate for the hop down to Corpus was at Gate 44 – just a kidney stones throw away from where we landed. Next to Gate 44 was a restaurant whose name I can’t pronounce without being corrected. They specialized in massive seafood and burgers. At 11 AM I would have been happy with some soup or even a bowl of chili. I had a burger that required being cut in half to handle and with enough fries to boost the economy of Idaho.

Traveling and food really do go together. If I am in Ireland there are certain local dishes I seek out. I’m sure that would be the case in whatever country I’d be visiting. The airport in Houston does not qualify.

I had “Dinner” that night at 8 PM. It was someone’s birthday. I had a piece of cheesecake and a cup of coffee. Even that was pushing it.

By 9:30 I was in bed. I did not dream of food or airports. I did not dream.

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