In Case You Were Wondering….

Regular readers of this blog may wonder why there was no post at the usual time this morning.

It’s a long story.

My husband and I are taking a trip to Portland, Oregon. (Nerds that we are, we’ve heard great things about its public transportation and other urban amenities.) Yesterday, I prepared for our trip by packing and gathering up the relevant travel information about flights, hotels, etc. Our daughter-in-law was to pick us up at 6:30 a.m. for an 8:30 flight. We planned to breakfast at the airport.

At 5:30, still in my PJs, I logged on to my computer, and was horrified to see a message from the airline confirming that our flight was on time—at 6:30. Boarding at 6:05. Evidently, our original arrangements had been changed and I’d been working from an older itinerary. I looked at the boarding pass I’d printed off—yep. Boarding at 6:05.

We actually made it.

No showers. Teeth not brushed. Hair (mine, at least) standing on end (making me look sort of like the witch so many people think I am anyway…) Impressively, my husband moved faster than he’s moved in a very long time.

I drove (within the speed limit, in case a traffic cop is reading this) to the airport, grateful that we live downtown, and valet parked—damn the expense. (It was only when we were on the plane that we remembered that we are returning by train…We’ll need to figure out how to retrieve my car…).

I was ahead of my husband on the airport escalator when I heard him fall. “Go on to the gate” he yelled, prone, but I couldn’t—I had his boarding pass. Concerned airport personnel picked him up, relatively undamaged, and we continued our race to the gate. At least we were pre-check!

But of course, it was early, and pre-check was closed.

The clock was ticking.

We waited in the security line. Then I set off the alarm and had to go back through the metal detector. Twice.

The clock was ticking.

As we ran down the hall to our concourse, we were met by another airport official. “Are you the Kennedys?” (How he knew that, I don’t know. I guess because we were ticketed and missing…) “You’ll make it.” He promised. “Doors close in five minutes.”

And we did. Unwashed, sweaty, disheveled, hearts pounding, wondering what we forgot in our frenzied rush, and how the hell we’re going to get my car back, but we made it!

As my husband says, another story to share at Thanksgiving….

Tomorrow, this blog will return to its regularly scheduled preoccupations. I hope.


  1. been there, done that, bought the t-shirt,

    Moral of the story: don’t wait to fill the rental car gas tank near the Orlando airport, just fill it up near the hotel.

  2. Sheila; if you read my post in yesterday’s blog comments, you will see that I have been concerned all day that you hadn’t posted today. Glad (except for Bob’s fall) you are OK; hope your trip home by train goes well. About 4 years ago my friend Ruth made arrangements to travel by train, top-of-the-line reservations, from San Francisco to New York City. Her compartment door wouldn’t latch closed let alone lock; repeated complaints and requests for another compartment were uneeded. She stacked all of her suitcases against the door to hold it closed and slept with one eye open. The bathroom was the size of one in a 12 foot, single wide trailer of 1960’s vintage and the toilet didn’t flush. She lasted (due to no choice in the matter) till reaching Chicago where she cancelled the rest of her train reservation and flew to NYC. Took months for a refund on the Chicago to New York City leg of her much anticipated train trip across country. Good luck and I think it was a brave thing for Bob to tell you to go on as he lay on the floor, quite heroic in my estimation. Glad nothing was injured but his dignity.

  3. I love Portland! Great city. Every weekend there’s a market downtown that’s not to be missed–food, interesting trinkets, etc. I went for a meeting, and Art Farnsley and his wife had rented a car, so we drove out to the falls–gorgeous. On the way back, we stopped to watch some fishermen fishing for salmon. They were so far away from the river that they literally had to shoot the hook and bait out to the water. It was fascinating. Also, I notice this weekend is the Beer and Cheese Festival. 🙂

  4. You will enjoy the train trip back. Dorie and I took the reverse – Indy – Chicago – Portland a few years back – and thoroughly enjoyed the trip. No rushing through an airport. Pleasant dining. Even decent sleep. Enjoy.

  5. Love this! Could…Not…Stop…Laughing!!! Hope you arrived in Portland safe and sound and were able to check in to your hotel and enjoy a shower :-).

  6. I miss Mike P. and his screwball antics. Those postings were fun reading. There’s plenty of material for all standups but lately I’m not finding it on Sheila’s blog. The Republican horserace was already a gas and now, thanks to Donald T. and Jeb B. flatulence it may trumpet in harmony and win the comedy trophy so coveted by the Battistas.

  7. I assume Sheila that you caught the whole experience on selfie video and it will be up on YouTube as soon as the film is processed.

    I’ve found that not brushing ones teeth can help avoid TSA pat downs.

  8. Sheila – I’m sorry to hear of your travel travails and Bob’s fall. I’m glad you both made it without broken bones and heart attacks.

    You will LOVE Portland. It’s beautiful, clean, and progressive. Don’t miss the rose gardens in their park near downtown. Both the roses and the view are spectacular in June. So are the falls and the river gorge north of town. Enjoy, and if you need a ride from the train station or home to get your car, give me a call.

  9. Wow, glad you arrived safely in Portland. And, remember that no great story worthy of sharing about a trip begins with “We arrived at the airport well in advance of our flight.”

    I’m taking a wild stab that you’ll be onboard Amtrak’s Empire Builder train route from Portland to Chicago. If so, you’re in for a treat, a view of the US from the far northern US boundary parallel with the Canadian border and the vast unpopulated areas in our country plus the opportunity to be seated in the dinner car with a rather interesting mix of table mates from the Native American Chief en route to Washington, DC for tribal business to the Sister of Charity of Seton Hill traveling East to attend her niece’s completion of a 2nd year of being a novitiate and of taking her final vows as a Sister of Charity.

    For my late husband, my younger son, and me, this was an adventure especially since we’d never met or dined with a Native American tribal chief or a Sister of Charity, or honestly a sister of any religious order.

    Because your trip began with a bang, promise not to let it end with a whimper.

  10. Spouse pulled a fast one on me. I was driving to the Indy airport with him and started to ask him if he packed everything. He suddenly realized, he forgot his passport. OMG, we had to turn around and speed all of the way back home, back in the car and back to the airport. We made the flight but it was way too close for comfort. Yikes. Hope your husband is okay. Who creates those early morning schedules anyway? good grief.

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