Not San Antonio
Sunday, November 23, 2008
This is what I had: New shoes and a turquoise dress. My head filled with the fine craftsmanship of my fellow would-be ALAN panelists. My camera, for I've always wanted to see San Antonio. Two books for the plane. A bag of M&Ms.
This is what happened: The computers aren't working well at the A 12 terminal of the Philadelphia airport—Boston flight posted on the San Antonio screen, those in charge scratching their heads and asking each other the sort of questions we passengers had hoped to ask them. An inconvenience, only.
Up next, though, the plane I am to take is three-quarters boarded when somebody mentions a Whoops. Whoops as in, Um. We're sorry. This plane isn't actually headed southwest. It's headed for New York.
(The woman in charge running across the tarmac, gathering the passengers who must now gather their bags, saying, I'm sorry. We got that wrong.)
Afterward, another whoops. Whoops as in, Your plane—the one that is actually headed southwest—is in maintenance. We don't know what's wrong. We don't know when it will be fixed. Give us an hour. Whoops as in another hour goes by, and now the terminal printers don't work and the sign still reads: Boston 9:50, even though by now it's 11 o'clock and all we want to do is head southwest. And now the word goes out that Maintenance is still having trouble with the would-be (ersatz?) plane and they don't know when they'll get it fixed.
There were five us headed for San Antonio. One by one we began to peel off. Too much of this didn't feel right for any of it to be right. That was the decision we singularly made.
This is how it went. This is why I am home and not in San Antonio, at the ALAN conference, where I had looked so forward to being.
This is what I thought as I drove home from the airport, where I'd spent the past five hours: I love my husband. I love my son. I love my father and family. I love my tiny house. I love my friends and the books on my shelf.
I love this life.
I'm very disappointed that I'm not in San Antonio. But I'm still here, alive to the cold brisk air. With a pair of new shoes I may someday have a place to wear.
14 comments:
I'm really sorry that you couldn't be there this year. What a disappointing and frustrating airport experience!
I remember the energy of the NCTE and NWP conferences--*sigh* I wish I were there, too.
What a disappointment, Beth. But, I believe we are always where we should be, even if we're not sure where we're at (or wish we were elsewhere).
Gotta love the Philly Airport, though. :(
Wear these. Soon. Let them dance you into another tale!
Oh, my friends, thank you. But, like BBM says, and I firmly agree, we are where we are meant to be. That means that my husband and I took my father out to dinner this evening. And that I spent an entire afternoon reading the New York Times.
I can't remember ever spending an entire afternoon reading The New York Times. I did. I have a lot I want to blog about. Have you heard, for example, this term "slow blogging?" An entire story on it today.
Beth, it's amazing how the world inside the airport can present so many obstacles that keep us from getting to our destination, or present so many obstacles that delay our arrival and when we finally arrive, we're utterly exhausted and wonder why we came!! Once outside the world that held us captive for a short while and go home....well, goodness and love prevail along with an unplanned dinner with your father and husband and the luxury of absorbing, for an afternoon, the NY Times.
Take care
I'm sad you didn't make it down to San Antonio! The weather was lovely this weekend.
That's really too bad. I've had some of those frustrating airport experiences, but I never had the guts to call everything off. Here's hoping your shoes will make their debut soon (and I too always bring m&m's on the plane - peanut or almond).
Liviana—I was thinking of you, actually, while I waited in 21 degree Philly for a plane to your neck of the woods.
Lenore—I have never walked away from anything either. It just was entirely unnerving. Everything was being done wrong, everything was going wrong, and no one could say if the plane would ever be repaired that day. I was in constant touch with HarperTeen, and at one point it became clear to us both that all signs were pointing to Not This Time at ALAN for Beth. I was going to be there for less than 24 hours to begin with, and those hours were quickly ticking away.
Sigh.
That is completely understandable. Hopefully there will be a next time :)
Oh and btw, my dad said your books arrived *squeal* thanks again! I can't wait to dig into them over the christmas holidays!!
Lib,
You are so right. And also, I was aware of goodness while waiting at that airport. There was a college student that I came to know and like quite a bit. Another woman with whom I spoke about books. No matter where you are, under what circumstances, decency has its own allure.
I'm so pleased to have found your blog through you finding mine, Beth. Those shoes, those shoes! And a trip denied. I always see those as the interesting moments, when strangers do bond, when returning home brings sweet reminders of what's important.
I look forward to following you and to finding your books, too!
Here's to slow blogging!
~Barbara
What a heartbreak, Beth! I'm so sorry NCTE missed YOU.
Three whoopses and you're out, right!
But the shoes are darling and you will find somewhere to wear them!
Oh, I hope you get to wear those new shoes soon! Boo to airports for making you miss your talk!
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