Puddle Jumping Again

Part III – puddle jumping again

From The Business Travel Log

From my vantage point, the top of the airplane looked fine. Can you just picture me standing at the doorway of the small regional jet, taller than the door, my head jutting above the door and the top of the airplane. Stop laughing. I’m puddle jumping again. Haha, if you are laughing that’s great and I’m happy that I made you laugh.

The flight attendant greets me as I bend way down to walk through the door. I am six feet, four inches tall. Small aircraft, AKA puddle jumpers, weren’t built for me. Nonetheless, I have been riding them most of my adult life. Passengers stare as I walk bent down from the entrance to my seat. It’s a long walk to row twenty on a twenty-five row airplane. Smiles glow from row to row.

I put my coat away, I’d left my roller bag at gate check baggage, then I squeeze into my narrow seat. Hmm, i need to get back to the gym, I think.

As I fasten my seatbelt, I think about a few of the puddle jumpers from past years. My first looked like a gooney bird: Columbia, South Carolina to Charlotte, North Carolina — a ninety mile ride. The big propellers are what scared me the most.

My girlfriend, who dropped me off at the airport, asked “Is your insurance all paid up?”

“Health or life”, I asked her.

“Both”, she replied.

Back to my current moment, I smile as I think about the gooney bird. I raise my window flap. I stare at the terminal. My mind moves towards another memory.

“Good Morning passengers welcome to USAmer flight 49 to Pittsburgh. The aircraft door is closed. Please put away all laptops and transmitting devices and put your smartphones in airplane mode.”

The flight attendant’s announcement pulls me back to my current moment. I’ll think about the other memory later, I say to myself. I leave the window flap open and wait for lift off.

#travellogforatravelblog

jtjohnpoet.com

Part II – Don’t Eavesdrop

From the Business Travel Log

Part II – Don’t Eavesdrop

I dropped off my rental, boarded a bus and rode to the terminal. I printed my boarding pass and started my prep for security.

First, I removed suspenders, watch, wallet, keys, change, bills, glasses, phone and threw all in my backpack. Next, I breezed right through security check. After restoring suspenders, wallet, watch, etc., to their proper place it was time to find a coffee shop.

Now I sit at my gate, sipping my coffee and i read. Two young adults dressed in business attire sit in the two seats to my left.

“What time do we meet with the senator?”, the young lady asks her colleague.

I tell myself, Don’t eavesdrop.

“Eleven-Thirty”, her colleague responds.

I tell myself, It doesn’t matter how loud they talk. Don’t eavesdrop.

“We really need support”, the young lady continued.

I tell myself, Okay, eavesdrop.

“We need the funding”, the young man remarks.

My ears swell.

“What are you guys taking about”, says a gentleman, closer to my age, who just walked up to where we were seated. “I could hear you halfway down the concourse.”

Now I wanted to turn my head and see how blush both of their faces were. Nonetheless, I kept looking at my phone. The chatter ended.

“Good morning passengers, Flight Ninety-Four to Reagan-National D.C. is ready to start boarding…” boomed over the intercom. Disappointed, I put away my phone, grabbed my roller bag and fell in line, right behind the two chatter boxes and their older colleague. The whispering begins.

#travellogforatravelblog

jerryjohnsonblog jtjohnpoet.com

Why So Delirious?

Yekaterinburg, Russia – September, 1996

Why So Delirious?

Long project

From June to September

Vienna to Moscow

Moscow to Siberia

Siberia to Moscow

Moscow to Nizhny Novgorod

Nizhny Novgorod to Boston

Boston for a week then back

to Moscow, back to Nizhny

back to Moscow then to

the administrative center

of the Urals, Yekaterinburg

I’m tired, it’s getting cold

and the heat isn’t on yet

From The Travel Log: My First Road Trip Part II

030My First Road Trip – Boston Massachusetts

“I would love to travel around the world like you do”

Like I said in my previous posts, I hear that a lot.

Previously,

I wrote of driving to Boston. I wrote of leaving Stamford, Connecticut and taking a long route.

Next Post

I drove past Waterbury, Connecticut. The scene of that town from my car window looked like it was painted by Norman Rockwell.

I sped right along until I saw the skyline of Hartford. It was a large city. A lot of tall modern day structures adorned the crest of the cityscape. Standing tall was one long spire that looked like it was transported from the 1940’s. It definitely looked older than the rest of the buildings.

The base of it rose about 15 stories high. The shape of the base was like a rectangular box standing on its end. The texture of the frame looked like concrete and plaster formed into a stone like clay. Large windows adorned each story of the base. Sitting on the base were four thin, tall layers stacked upon each other. Each stack became thinner thus few forming the spire. A long communications antenna mounted the tip.

I drove past. It was no longer in my peripheral. I thought about it a long time as I sped up highway 84 North. I didn’t think it was a high rise apartment complex. I thought it may have belonged to a corporation. A bank? Perhaps it was the home of one or more of the many insurance institutions that pervaded the town.

I drove on. My next milestone would be highway 90 in Massachusetts. The Mass Turnpike. My stomach began to churn in pain. I sat up straight as I felt my equilibrium wobble from the pounding thud in my digestive system. After a few minutes, the pain went away. I worried as I thought about my last Doctor visit. I regained my composure and continued driving.

Stay tuned for the next post…