8/27/10 Departure and Arrival

Perhaps going to work on the day of my departure was a bad idea, but when you're fresh out of vacation days there aren't many other options.

Certain things become clear when you're in a hurry.  For example, the essentials.  Having time against you makes the decisions about what's important that much easier.  Make the bed?  No.  Shave?  No.  Shower?  Yes.  Finish packing?  Absolutely!  Break the speed limit to get home with time to spare? Yes; but then again, with speeding, my answer is almost always yes (the exception being funeral processions).  Hit the beer store so that Space can have some Canadian beer?  Yes.  Stop to talk to my ex’s aunt while at the beer store?  No.

I feel terrible about the last one, but it was a combination of being in a huge rush and not knowing what to say.  Honestly, it was more about not knowing what to say and how odd I would look saying it with six cans of Labatt “50” in my hands.  After all, nothing speaks desperation like a 300 of “50”.

Quick decisions such as these allowed me to get to the airport with time to spare, and so the journey began.  First leg – Toronto to San Francisco.

Arriving in San Francisco and faced with the prospect of a 13-hour flight to Taipei I knew what I had to do…get numb.  Historically I’ve been a nervous flyer, but those days are well behind me.  This time my motivation was sleep.  With a 12-hour time difference, I would need all the sleep I could get to avoid burn out on day 1 in Taipei.  However, it appeared as though good fortune had passed me by.  All of the bars in the international section of San Francisco’s airport had closed by 10:30.  Suffice it to say, I was fucked.

An option presented itself in the “duty free” shop, but buying a bottle to drink right then and there seemed desperate.  A good idea to be certain, just not the best idea to be equally certain.

I soldiered on and hope slowly drained from my body until around a corner an oasis appeared; an empty bar with a lonely barkeep.  Here was my chance to keep him busy.  He wasn’t open for very long, just long enough for two pints.  As tired as I was, they did the trick.  Exhausted and buzzing, I made my way to the check-in counter.

Hope returned to me as I boarded the plane.  Hoping as we all do that there would be an empty seat beside me.  No such luck.  At row 56 I was greeted by an extremely large American and what appeared to be his much younger Asian bride.  As I squeezed through to my window seat I thought to myself “Fuck me!  This is going to be terrible.”

In the first hour or so it appeared as though my initial assessment of impending airplane misery was right.  She nagged him, he ignored her.  She kept sticking her elbow in my ribs and kicking me; I bit my tongue and kept quiet.  A couple of glasses of wine, I thought, and I could drift off to sleep.  I curled up into a ball and sleep came quickly; waves of blackness washed over me and soon enough I was out.

Rest can sometimes bring clarity, and it soon became clear that that I had misjudged my seatmates.  May and Bob struck up a conversation with me, they were very pleasant people.  May was traveling back to Taiwan to visit the graves of her parents.  They had died a few years ago within a short time of each other but she could not attend the funerals because Bob was experiencing serious medical problems (bad heart) and could not travel; May does not travel alone.  Clarity came in the literal sense as well.  A closer look at May revealed her true age.  The obvious work she had done on her eyes could not hide the effects of time.  Turns out they were both 60 and had been married for 34 years.  Bob was an aviation mechanic and had worked in the military.  They met while he was stationed overseas, eventually marrying and living in many cities throughout his employment.  They were both enjoying retirement and the freedom it brought.  May did not enjoy the same literal clarity that I had.  She guessed my age at 27 and was shocked when I told her I was 35.  I told her she was the greatest woman on Earth.

Kind people that May and Bob were, and with May’s command of Mandarin, they insisted that they help me find my way to the train station once we were on the ground.  And get on the ground safely we would.  May admitted that she game me the “once over” when I took my seat at the beginning of the flight.  She got “feelings” about people and could sense that it wasn’t my “time”.  “Time for what?” I asked.  “Time to go” she replied.  She didn't tell me if she had checked out all the other passengers so I presume that being destined to die in a plane crash only depends on who is sitting right beside you and not trivial things like mechanical condition of the plane, pilot experience, weather, or if someone remembered to top up the fuel tanks.

Once on the ground we quickly got our bearings.  May asked for directions and an airport employee motioned for us to follow him.  He walked at a fair pace and Bob was having a hard time keeping up.  Weighed down with plenty of bags and burdened by a bad heart he began to lag behind.  May would have none of this and she kept saying to him “Hurry up daddy!”, “Keep up with him daddy!”, “Faster daddy!”

I nearly pissed my pants.

I walked towards my bus after saying goodbye to Bob and May.  As I tuned back to wave one final goodbye May yelled out “Be careful Johnny”!  No matter where you go, a mother is always looking out for you.