4Surprise7

As is tradition here in the Den, I've made it a point to post about the birthdays that are important here and to do so on said birthday. I am a day late, but what follows is a recap of yesterday's birthday shenanigans. The celebrant? Me. So settle in, as this is a long one:

The quick back story on my 47th birthday involves my mother, who turns 80 next week. 80 is a big deal, right? A few weeks ago, my brother and sister and I were talking about an appropriate way to celebrate and they suggested we get together as siblings and surprise my mom. Knowing she would be out of town on her birthday, we decided to do it on my birthday, one week earlier. So plans were made, tickets were purchased and before we knew it, it was the morning of the 20th and the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I hightailed it out of Connecticutistan Friday morning, a mere eight hours after my inflight drama the night before. Speaking of that fun-filled flight, as we left the gate, I saw that plane on another tarmac, looking forlorn as it was clearly and rightfully out of service.

We got to the inferno that is Phoenix by 11AM (seriously, 104 degrees...it's September and there is no need for that kind of heat insanity) and due to Martha Stewart's apparent ban on Mexican food where we currently reside, we wasted no time in getting to Tia Rosa's, a Mexican place we frequented when we lived here. Those thin chips and green and red salsas were screaming our names. We must have looked like starving refugees to our fellow diners, given the ferocity with which we assaulted the chips. Anyway, we settled into our meal when this happened:

Holy Mother of Surprises!

Into the restaurant walked the Awesomes! As is now my wont, I began to cry like a little girl, and I admit that without shame, as I saw my daughter, my son-in-law, and my grandson. Suffice to say, a scene was made. They had chosen to come down from behind the Zion Curtain and surprise me for my birthday and it was amazing. The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML had pulled off yet another coup! How lucky am I?

As we wound down our meal, our waitress asked if we needed anything else and I asked for the check. She said it had been taken care of. I immediately turned to my son-in-law, Awesome, to reprove him for buying the meal (he'd slipped out for a second as we were eating). It wasn't him. The waitress told us that the man at the the table behind us had bought our meal. We were, to quote my Brit friends, gobsmacked. We went to his table and thanked him. He and his wife were so kind, just said they wanted to do it. He even got to hold Benson, who let down his current 'stranger danger' freak out mode, for just a moment. As we thanked them, we promised to pay it forward.

It was then time to move on to the real reason for our visit, surprising my mom. My brother had told her that he and his wife would be picking her up at 4:00PM to go to dinner. Much like Florida, dining early is totally normal in AZ, with its 'older' population. So we get to her house, and she doesn't answer the door. Repeated bell ringing and door knocking, and nothing. So I call her, and I've clearly woken her up, and tell her that there's a delivery company calling me saying that they are at her door with a package. She continued talking to me as she walked to her door. She opened the door, and it was priceless. Clearly, surprise #1 had been pulled off.

Once things settled down, we explained the next phase of the surprise, which was dinner with her children. She was truly taken aback by all of this. It was fun to listen to her say repeatedly as we drove to Scottsdale, 'I just can't believe this.' My brother had selected a great steak house, brought roses for her, and it was great to be together. The meal was well worth it and just seeing my mom take it all in was worth it all.

The birthday folks

Mom and her clan

During dinner, we revealed the next round of surprises for her, which is a get together today at her house with her children, grandchildren that are local, and now, thanks to the Awesomes', her great-grandchild. Pretty cool stuff.

Suffice to say, I think both my mom and I will say that birthday surprises are pretty good. No, they are amazing. I am more blessed than I deserve. Now, I need to go figure out how to pay it forward...

It was bound to happen

When you fly as much as I do, strange things are bound to happen. However, in the last 48 hours, I have experienced two of the most surreal events in my flying experience. Buckle up, return your seat to its full upright position and read on:

Wednesday  - New York LaGuardia

I was third to board the flight to Atlanta and I made myself at home in my assigned seat, 3D. About 10 minutes later, a boarding passenger stops at my seat and says, 'Are you supposed to be in 3D?' To which I said yes I was. He then informs me so is he. Seat Dupe. Awesome. Experience has taught me to not move from my seat, so we flagged down a flight attendant. The flight attendant took his boarding pass and looked at mine on my iPhone, and he did a triple take. He said, 'You both have the same name, you know that, right?' Um...how would we know that, Copernicus? Turns out we had the same exact name and the same seat assignment. The flight attendants were incredulous and the gate agents looked perplexed. So ML2 made his way to Coach to wait it out while the agents did their thing. As usual, boarding was chaotic. I was asked two more times by different agents if I was who I said I was and then the door shut and we started to back away from the gate. I figured ML2 found a seat in Coach. And then a flight attendant ran up saying we had to stop since there was a passenger in the back with no seat assignment. Alas ML2 was sans a seat, so we taxied back in and a gate agent came aboard. I did not release my seat belt. I had no plans on leaving. A few short minutes later, ML2 was invited to disembark. But, he didn't leave empty-handed! I gave him three, count 'em, three free drink coupons. See, I'm a giver that way. That and the fact that I don't drink. 

How surreal it was to be looking at someone who shares your name! While an awkward circumstance, it was kind of funny. Surreal but funny. The next incident was decidedly not funny but even more surreal.

Thursday - Atlanta

I was flying back to Connecticutistan after a long, but rewarding, day of meetings. About 15 minutes after take off, I was ensconced in 3B, and was anticipating my ice cold Coke Zero, when el capitan's voice comes over the PA and announces there is a minor issue with the hydraulic system and that we would be returning to Atlanta, post-haste. A few groans from passengers, but what are you going to do?

Then things got interesting. I noticed all four flight attendants were huddled I the galley, reviewing their red plastic emergency evacuation checklists. Yep, things just got real.  A couple of them moved past me quickly, cards in hand to start preparations in the rear cabin. I then decided I needed to offer my help. I went up to the galley and said to the two flight attendants, 'Do you need some help?' Now, bear in mind, they've made no announcements yet, but they sensed I had something of a clue as to what foolishness was underway. I was told that there was a paraplegic in 4D and that they needed me and the guy in 4C to carry him to the exit and get him down the slide when we landed because, and I quote, "we don't want him to be trampled in the evacuation." Things got really real. The captain had announced we'd be circling to burn fuel to lighten us for our landing. I then got coached in what commands to listen for upon landing. They kept saying that they didn't know what was going to happen but that I should be ready for anything. We went back and talked to 4C and 4D and then they had me come back to the galley to review instructions again.

Just as they were going to begin the PA about the emergency instructions (bracing, etc), one of the flight attendants came up for the back, saying that we were too heavy to land in Atlanta safely and that we'd go on to Hartford. The captain came on and announced it had been deemed safe enough to soldier on. Really?! 

So soldier on we did. It was a very quiet 90 minutes. Landing was uneventful, although I held my breath, saying more than one prayer. The cabin broke into applause once we realized that whatever had ailed us took a long enough breather to let us land safely. Massive props to the flight attendants for their calm professionalism and to the pilots for doing their thing. 

So I've had some close calls in my years of flying. The last two days though have been surreal. But it was bound to happen at some point. I'm just glad the stewardess was NOT flying the plane!

On the block

Life here in Connecticutistan has offered us some unique experiences. We stumbled into another one of them last nights when we found ourselves at an antique auction. In. A. Barn. Wait...what?

We joined another couple for dinner last night. They, like us, are fairly recent transplants to our little corner of New England. We each have three children and their ages are almost identical. They too have just become grandparents for the first time. So there is a lot in common and we've enjoyed our friendship. They had told us previously about an antique auction in town that had to be seen to be believed. We are not antique collectors nor are we auction junkies but we thought we'd check it out with them.

When you think 'auction,' you may think something swanky, like Sothebys. Our auction experience has been limited primarily to silent auctions at charity events, like the American Heart Association Ball that we attended for a few years in Beverly Hills. Let me assure you we couldn't even bid on one of the used napkins from the dinner there, let alone any of the items on offer.

The Canton Barn

This is where we wound up, the Canton Barn. It is exactly what it looks like. Inside we found a crowd of people inspecting all that was on offer for the evening. And there was a lot on display. Everything from little creepy Hummel-eqsue figurines to some pretty interesting furniture items. In the back, they were selling hamburgers that the staff was cooking on a Weber grill and homemade pies. It was a slice of Americana that seemed really unique to this part of the country. For the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and me, there was not much of interest, although it's an amazing place to find furniture. What was a kick was to see the auctioneer, the staff, and the interaction with the bidders. It was a reality TV program. It really was a good night.

The auction did get me thinking about the value we place on things. It was fascinating, and even a little mind-boggling to watch how some items that literally looked like junk or proof-positive that most people's taste is only in their mouths, quickly escalated into bidding wars and sold for prices that made absolutely no sense. Truly, one man's junk is another man's treasure. I'm not sentimental enough to understand the attachment that some people have on antique items but I'm glad that there are people who do. It preserves memories and gives us a reference to what was valuable in times gone by.

That said, it still doesn't mean I'm going to start making the auction a part of my Saturday night plan. But shoot, I'm actually regretting not bidding on a couple of funky French chairs. This is how it starts, right?

In Memoriam: 9-11

Today we remember the horrific events that changed our nation twelve years ago. We pause to remember the thousands of lives that were taken. We vow once again to never forget. As is now my tradition, I share with you the post I wrote on the 10th anniversary of the attacks. The text are remarks I gave in Church on the anniversary:

The Memorial at the World Trade Center site

Tuesday, September 11, 2001, was an unusually bright, clear late summer day in New York City.  The images of those brilliant but skies are seared into our collective memories; however, now we remember the smoke that choked that blue sky.  We remember the image of a plane slamming into the now-fallen World Trade Center.  We remember images of people jumping from the burning towers in order to escape the roaring flames.  We also remember the pictures of firefighters and police personnel who ran into the towers in an epic, valiant struggle to save their fellowmen.  We are haunted by the heroic words uttered by a passenger on board United 93, "Let's roll!" as those few passengers decided to stop the terrorists from hitting yet another target.

The terror of that day, ten years ago, is still fresh for so many of us.  It is an event that touched us all and it is a defining moment in not only American history, but world history.  In the days following these horrific events, our nation came together in a way that many said had not been since World War II.  I remember standing in our front yard in our home in California with our neighbors as we joined our fellow countrymen in a national moment of prayer.  It was as if our nation was seeking spiritual comfort as a whole in those dark days after the attacks.

That sense of unity and desire to seek spiritual comfort as a nation has abated in the ten years since that unforgettable day.  Our nation has found its way back to its divisive ways.  In his first official blog post printed earlier this week in the Washington Post's "On Faith" column, President Thomas S. Monson, said, "Sadly, it seems that much of that renewal of faith has waned in the years that have followed.  Healing has come with time, but so has indifference.  We forget how vulnerable and sorrowful we felt.  Our sorrow has moved us to remember the deep purposes of our lives.  The darkness of our despair brought us a moment of enlightenment.  But we are forgetful.  When the depth of grief has passed, its lessons often pass from our minds and hearts as well."

The Scriptures are rife with examples of how we, the children of a loving, caring Heavenly Father, have forgotten our Father and the lessons of lives time and time again.  The Book of Mormon is especially illustrative of this cycle of forgetfulness but it also shows our Father's consistent, loving commitment to us.  In his blog post, President Monson continued, saying, "Our Father's commitment to us, His children, is unwavering.  Indeed He softens the winter of our lives, but He also brightens our summers.  Whether it is the best of times or the worst, He is with us.  He has promised us that this will never change."

President Monson, our prophet, reminds us that if there was a spiritual lesson to be learned from the events of 9/11, it may be that we owe to God the same faithfulness that He gives to us.  He said, "We should strive for steadiness, and for a commitment to God that does not ebb and flow with the years or crises of our lives.  It should not require tragedy for us to remember Him, and we should not be compelled to humility before giving Him our faith and trust.  We too should be with Him in every season."

As we reflect today, ten years after the events of 9/11, may we remember those whose lives were lost.  May we pray on behalf of them and those they left behind.  May we also reflect on what has happened to us in the years since that day.  Let us not forget who we are.  We are children of a loving Heavenly Father who has been steadfast and unwavering in His commitment to us.  May we be faithful to Him in times of crisis and times of calm.  May we make Him and His Son the center of our thoughts and the pattern for our actions.  May we remember the counsel of the Book of Mormon prophet Moroni as he raised the Title of Liberty in preparation for righteous battle, 'In memory of our God, our religion and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children.'  If we do so, we will be blessed.  

May we never forget.