I travel a lot. Consequently, a lot of things that go could go wrong do go wrong: three-day stints flying from Vermont to Kansas City; cancelled flights or long delays; truly awful airport food served in restaurants blasting the kind of hard metal music that makes me work off a past lifetime of bad behavior; and a whole lot of caffeinated-to-a-fault anxieties over how much in this world is beyond my control.
Rarely, everything goes right, and yesterday was such a day. Although I was so tired, I worried about staying awake during those intervals when a traveler needs to be alert, I found my propensity for 8-15 minute power naps fit well in the nooks and crannies of having the taxi take me from Goddard to the airport, falling asleep on plane #1, and falling asleep twice on plane #2.
My awake time yielded ample magic, beginning with waiting to go through security. “That’s an unusual way to spell ‘Caryn,'” the security person said to the woman in front of me. Soon she and I were comparing driver’s licenses to see that both of us spelled our name with a C and a Y. Given that I’ve met less than a handful of people my whole life that spelled their name like I do, I took it was a sign of good will from the universe that this Caryn was right next to me.
Then, as I was walking to where my plane to Philadelphia boarded, I thought I saw Bernie Sanders, sitting alone and waiting. No, I told myself, it just must be a guy who looks like Bernie Sanders but after seeing several people, mostly young people, walk up to him and shake his hand, I bolted over just as Jane, his wife who started as interim president of Goddard when I started teaching there, appeared. She remembered me, we caught up a bit, and I even got my picture with Bernie. On the plane, it turns out that Bernie was in the seat in front of me flying in coach, no entourage, working on a speech he had hand-written, smiling at the airline attendant, and even helping a woman with her suitcase when we disembarked. I ended up having another conversation with him and Jane, and found out they were flying to Minneapolis so Bernie could, as one would expect, go to Iowa. “Come on, Bern, the gate is this way,” Jane said as we wished each other well after Jane talked about how Goddard was her beloved alma mater.
Next was the challenge of getting just the right lunch in limited time before the longer plane ride to Kansas City. I have failed this challenge many times, ending up with sometime too greasy or tasteless or rushed. This time I paused in front of Legal Seafood and let my eyes land on “lobster roll.” Expensive? Yes, but given the abundance of charm already (a Caryn, a Bernie!), I told myself not to think and just to order. On the plane, when I opened the box, I was delighted to find an exquisitely overflowing lobster roll, some fries, and coleslaw.
The flight went without a hitch, yet when I landed, I found out Ken was stuck in traffic on I-70. No matter, I went to wait at baggage claim, grabbing Jerry’s (now my) suitcase before pausing at the Starbucks to get an iced green tea. Stepping outside into the 80-something degree day (not 90-something, another gift), I sipped my delicious tea, looked to my left, and there was Ken pulling up.
Once back in Lawrence, I stepped through another set of doors, to our marvelous good co-op, the Merc, where I settled my way toward home by putting a lot of ripe peaces into a bag and doing other shopping before the rest of the way home to happy cats, an ecstatic dog, smiling sons, and a house not a complete wreck after being left to very busy men and very active animals for 13 days. Now I’m home with nothing to complain about when it comes to getting from point A to point B, and that’s about as perfect as travel gets.