The Things You Hear When You Travel
1/2/24
Happy New Year, everyone. To all of our family and friends who may be wondering if we got in okay, we got to bed at about 2 a.m., and we're very excited to be with our dogs again this morning. That doesn't, of course, mean that we didn't enjoy our weekend in Arizona. In fact, we loved it. Donna has the most loving and accommodating family, and Arizona's landscape is stunningly picturesque and so unlike Florida's.
Visitors to Arizona will immediately notice the variety of flora, from the big cacti to the medium cacti to the small cacti. Okay, so maybe's there's an overkill of cacti. But the mountains and the desert terrain can't be beat. But no sight was more dear to me than seeing my longtime friends Ed and Iris. Thanks for always being there.
Of course, after a long-distance trip, someone with inevitably want to know how our flights were. I think Donna will agree that they were mostly routine. The flights were crowded, delayed, and full of bumps. Same old, same old.
But on our flight back home, we were treated to an unprecedented bonanza of bizarre conversations. Take, for example, the conversation we overheard while we were checking in our luggage. At the baggage counter, airline personnel calmly accused a woman of crooked activity.
AIRLINE: You knew this ticket was fraudulent when you presented it.
WOMAN: How was I to know there was a problem when I bought it from the travel agent? I didn't know.
AIRLINE: Oh, yes, you did. You just didn't think you'd be caught. We could call the authorities on you right now, but we won't. The only way you're getting on that plane is if you purchase a legal ticket. IN YOUR FACE!
I may have added that last line. But I didn't even know that sneaking on planes with fraudulent tickets was a thing, or that airline personnel would be so willing to publicly shame someone caught perpetrating such a crime. I assure you, we did not intend to eavesdrop.
The same was true for the next conversation we overheard minutes after boarding the plane. That's when a slightly inebriated (or perhaps largely inebriated) gentlemen took his seat in the row in front of us just before the doors closed.
From his window seat, he immediately began interviewing the couple next to him. It was like listening to a standup comedy routine.
HIM: And where are you two people from? If you go to Disney you just have to do the Star Wars ride. But don't forget to get roaring drink. Don't try to do Disney sober.
Then he proceeded to tell them (and anybody born with ears) his life story, about how he met his wife, how she cheated on him with his best friend, and how she got half the house. The passengers in the rows around him didn't even have to lean in. The man's booming voice carried throughout.
He spoke about growing up in Arizona and joining the military so he could get away from the desert, only to be assigned to bases in Arizona. As he bemoaned his fate about being stuck in Arizona. because he had a good job there and had finally started dating again, I realized I was caught up in his story.
Would he ever find love again? Would he one day be able to escape Arizona? Then he fell asleep in a drunken stupor and I got over my obsession with him.
I was exhausted. My advice to those who live such dramatic existences is this: Don't share so much. Or, if you insist on being the center of attention, start your own blog.
#there'ssomethingtobesaidforheadphones