I wrote last week's column-literally.
That column was about going to Arkansas to attend a memorial service for a dear friend. When I packed my bags on Thursday, I realized that the four-day trek would completely overlap with my usual writing schedule. My column is due every Tuesday. Oops. What should we do now?
The answer is to drag my computer, I am no longer a fool. In fact, I changed my laptop last year because it was too heavy. My new, more stylish one is only about half the weight, but still feels like an anvil when walking through the airport.
I usually travel with a small suitcase and a carry-on luggage. I no longer lift the things I carry with me above my head and put my feet on the handbag. So, I always check the suitcase and pack a light carrying bag with basic necessities so I can carry it with me. Last week, I put my laptop in a padded container, right between my medicine and my pajamas. My "lightweight handbag" has become a huge burden.
In the past few years, I have learned that having real white hair is an automatic ticket for the help of at least one burly young man on board. I can't refuse, "Can I help you with that expense?"
"Oh, thank you so much. How nice to do this!" I always pretend to be surprised, but it happens every time. And these young people need the positive reinforcement brought by their great-looking great-grandmothers. I should travel with a small bag of cookies.
After two plane flights, a few hours’ drive, and dinner with my family, I finally reached my hotel room in Greenville, Mississippi. Meizi curled up-too loud to write anymore. The next morning, I started the column one hour before the memorial hall and managed another hour before going to bed.
On Sunday morning, when the party was over, I rode back to Little Rock and arrived four hours before I checked into the hotel. Oops. I feel desperate for some computer time. The room attendant may not often see gray-haired laptop anxiety, and she sympathizes before the hysteria begins. Very good phone. Thanks to her, I can write a few more paragraphs before dinner.
The next morning, I boarded the morning flight to Charlotte, which was my first stop. A nice young man said: "Can I help you put it on top of your head?" Thank him very much, and I immediately regret not grabbing some cookies from the hotel's free gifts.
Before the flight to Buffalo, Charlotte stayed for three hours. I was lucky enough to sit down on the computer charging station and plug it in. Despite a lot of interference, I wrote a paragraph or two, and then realized I had a problem. I need to find the "necessities" and some lunch before the next flight.
I don’t want to pack everything up, drag it to the women’s bathroom, and then throw away my computer seat. I need to make a trustworthy friend. I chose the merchant inserted nearby. I waited until he stretched and needed to take a break from his screen and then chat with him. He was originally from Buffalo and was on his way to visit his family. It only took 10 minutes to determine that he did not need my computer, and my pajamas may not be of much use. "Of course, I will look at them. Coffee? No, I'm fine. But thank you."
After getting under the bathroom, I walked to the nearby snack bar. I bought a chicken sandwich (plus tax) for $12.99. I succumbed to a three-dollar water bottle and decided to stick to airplane snacks.
Back in front of the computer I took care of, I managed to write another paragraph before setting off.
After we left the gate, the captain announced: "Due to the shortage of supply chain, there are no plastic cups at Charlotte Airport. Drinks or snacks will not be provided." Ahhhhh!
Finally, my stomach and computer arrived in Buffalo. After picking up my luggage and the shuttle bus to my car, I drove desperately to McDonald's across the street to drive. I ordered a quarter pound of cheese, and the lively voice asked, "Fries?" I said no. "Drink that?" No. When I walked to the window, she said, "That will be $7.39."
"But I didn't order French fries or drinks..."
"Yes, that's just a quarter pound for you." Wow! Did the food prices double in the four days I left? But that burger is in place. I imagine it is filet mignon.
I finished writing when I got home on Monday night. That column was written in four states, and I realized that some people do make a living from it every day. Voghdabdi.
I wrote today's column on my recliner... There is a lot of legroom, hot coffee and delicious food. The only thing missing is the lovely young man who is willing to help. Thought I had a bunch of homemade cookies...
Marcy O'Brien lives in Warren, Pennsylvania with her husband Richard and their lazy Maine Coon cat Finian. You can contact her at Moby.32@hotmail.com.
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