I found myself in PHX this weekend for my sister's graduation. She got her Master's and will soon take her Boards so she can officially be called a Physician's Assistant. It was an honor to be there, watching her take the stage. As she joked through the entire two-year program, she was the oldest student in her class. When she took the stage to accept her diploma, you would never have known it. She looked great among the "younger" graduates and was positively beaming. So glad I was able to be there.
Being in PHX in August reminded me how miserably hot it is there. Say what you will about the heat and humidity here, but I'll take it any day over that barren inferno. While in the inferno, I was able to have an ostrich burger. Yep, ostrich. Not bad at all. Not gamey and no, it doesn't taste like chicken. Tasted a lot like meat. I'd have another one.
Anyway, I flew back yesterday. Can I just say how disturbing it is flying in the summer. Particularly in/out of hot weather destinations. Why? Tank tops, Crocs, and back tattoos (the last two are a veritable plague - a lethal black plague) as far as the eye can see. Horrible! But I digress. The flight was, wait for it, delayed. Is there any other kind? No, no there is not. So that 45 minute delay made it impossible for Our Lady of BYU and I to meet in ORD as we had planned. I was supposed to land 45 minutes before her flight back to SLC and Awesome was to depart and we had planned to meet. Not so much. Anyway, because we were delayed, the boarding procedure took on the typical "last flight out of Saigon" element. That's always fun. Also fun - the mother and five year old boy sitting behind me. The mother was tanned a la "Jersey Shore Skank," entirely too blonde, and working far too much silicon. The boy, who had a name like Ryder or Jett or the Situation, apparently could only respond if the mother spoke to him in a loud, a really loud voice. You know, the voice that older people tend to use when speaking to someone who they think doesn't speak English - as if the super-amped voice will make them easier to understand. Excellent. Said child also mirrored every neurosis his mother had, including a fear of flying. This would manifest itself later. I threw on my earphones, dialed up the volume on my iPod and hoped for the best. It didn't drown out everything, particularly the drama between mother and son and the mushroom soup that was served with lunch.
About 30 minutes out of ORD, the Captain told us that ORD had been enveloped in unpredicted thunderstorms and that we were the last flight inbounding from the west that was going to be allowed to land - assuming the storms didn't intensify. He also noted that if they did we were heading for Grand Rapids as a diversion. The alarm bells then went off with mother and child behind me. This news did not sit well with either. Then the flight attendants announced that because of the anticipated turbulence they'd been ordered to sit down for the duration of the flight. Five minutes later, things got super fun. Our flight began to mimic and mechanical bull and the gasping and weeping began. The mother began to loudly complain about the situation and then grabbed the sick bag and the kid began to wail, "Stop talking Mommy because you're making me stomach hurt." Truer words for the rest of us could not have been spoken. Poor kid. I felt sorry for him. As the mother wailed so did he. She would upchuck, so would he. About ten minutes out, we were still riding the vomit comet and she decides she's heading for the lav. Not a good move. The flight attendant unstrapped herself and helped Pukey to the lav and ordered her to stay there til we landed. This direction would go unheeded. When we were about 500 feet above the runway, Pukey emerges from the lav, fresh as a daisy. She nearly got kicked into her seat, but she made it before we landed. Good for her.
Suffice to say, I was mighty relieved to get off that plane. I'll say it again, flying is the best, isn't it?
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