You're not going to believe my trip home...
First, it was a little bit of Santa Rosa out in Minnesota...
Not sure what the George Schultz connection is there, but there was a bunch of Peanuts related things there.
Anyway, you might remember the ordeal of my last trip as it was only a couple of weeks ago. TSA wrecked my luggage and my barbecue sauce, line jumpers, dangerous plane malfunctions, and so on. Well this last trip was everything that trip home wasn't.
I was sort of worried that filing a TSA claim might be one of those things that assures me of "random" additional security checks from now on. But now I'm thinking there must be some sort of central database that has kept track of how crappy my last few trips have been and somehow I won the weary traveler lottery. For no reason I can think of, I was bumped up to First Class.
When I saw 3-D I thought, "Well, at least I got an aisle and I'm not in the middle." And then I boarded and saw the 3-D is a window in First Class. And I double checked my ticket. And then I thought, "Did I screw up and accidentally select the wrong seat? But I didn't. I just got lucky.
And now that I've been there...
...I don't ever....
...want to go back.
It was awesome. Two seats per row, lots of room to stretch out, and you could work, if you were so inclined. Even the widest laptop will fit nicely and you don't have to worry about the seat in front of you smashing it up when the guy leans back.
I chose to read and write in my journal. And it was great - it's been a while. And they bring you whatever you want to drink. Oh, and next time I get to fly First Class, I'm going to wear a sports coat just so the flight attendant can bring it to me on final approach with a friendly, "Your coat, sir."
Got down in Sacramento, got my luggage, and Rachel was there for me. We had a nice long talk on the way home and it was awesome.
Even though it was a great trip, I was still really tired when I got home. With the time change, I was up at 2:30 AM and then flew all day, then worked and did my expense report, then did some chores, then despite being exhausted, I couldn't fall asleep.
Friday was also really busy - lots of work to get done with some barely manageable deadlines.
But today I feel great. Rachel and I watched Rattatouille last night. And I slept in this morning. And then I went to the store. Frank and Marla are coming over for dinner tonight, and I am going to go spend the next couple of hours cooking. Frank is bringing some pork chops and a tossed green salad. I'm making Martha's potato cakes and stuffed acorn squash.
It might be party because of the weather, and partly because I had to go to Clearlake and then Wal-Mart on top of it, but I feel raw today - I'm experiencing what the Shambhala tradition calls "The Genuine Heart of Sadness." People were driving like maniacs on wet roads in beat up cars with balding tires and cutting me and others off only to slam brakes and turn without signaling. You know, the usual. And then a scrawny dirty Dad grabbed his son and yelled, "Aw, now where the fuck did yer Mom go!?" And a little later, I was standing in line at the pharmacy, next up, with people behind me and some total meth head sort of staggered and swayed up to the counter. And the lady asked, "Are you next?" And he said he was. And I was angry about it. And then I felt sorry for him. And I realized that I'm pretty lucky, and this poor guy is in the late stages of suffering a miserable existence. So I felt good, and sad.
And then a wannabe cage fighter in a "Tapout" T-shirt wanted to get up in the miserable guys face, perhaps to do some violence. And he had his girlfriend with him. And he was all puffed up and she was trash talking Mr. Miserable, and I got up close to them and said, "You know, that really pissed me off too. But I look at him, and I look at us, and I figure that whatever this guy is suffering from is way worse than what we are suffering from and we should just take a deep breath and let it go.
And it worked. I put myself out there and diffused a bad situation. And it made me feel better. And that led to me making it a point smile at everybody. And later when I was in the 20 item or less line with 19 items, I let a guy with two items go ahead of me.
So what's puzzling me today is, do I get sad because the world is often a sad place, or does my own mood affect the way I perceive the world? I know this sounds like the sort of thing I should have figured out in my junior year of college or something. Or maybe sooner as it is something of a sophomoric realization. But it really struck me today.
Maybe this is something I learned long ago but forgot?
Whatever. I came home. And I started this blog post. And then Tony, I mean Frank showed up early. And we went upstairs and sat around the kitchen drinking wine and talking while I cooked, waiting for our girls to come home. And then we had dinner and celebrated Frank and Rachel's birthdays.
Happy Birthday wife. I love you.
I'll post some pictures of what I cooked tomorrow.
Not sure what the George Schultz connection is there, but there was a bunch of Peanuts related things there.Anyway, you might remember the ordeal of my last trip as it was only a couple of weeks ago. TSA wrecked my luggage and my barbecue sauce, line jumpers, dangerous plane malfunctions, and so on. Well this last trip was everything that trip home wasn't.
I was sort of worried that filing a TSA claim might be one of those things that assures me of "random" additional security checks from now on. But now I'm thinking there must be some sort of central database that has kept track of how crappy my last few trips have been and somehow I won the weary traveler lottery. For no reason I can think of, I was bumped up to First Class.
When I saw 3-D I thought, "Well, at least I got an aisle and I'm not in the middle." And then I boarded and saw the 3-D is a window in First Class. And I double checked my ticket. And then I thought, "Did I screw up and accidentally select the wrong seat? But I didn't. I just got lucky.And now that I've been there...
...I don't ever....
...want to go back.
It was awesome. Two seats per row, lots of room to stretch out, and you could work, if you were so inclined. Even the widest laptop will fit nicely and you don't have to worry about the seat in front of you smashing it up when the guy leans back. I chose to read and write in my journal. And it was great - it's been a while. And they bring you whatever you want to drink. Oh, and next time I get to fly First Class, I'm going to wear a sports coat just so the flight attendant can bring it to me on final approach with a friendly, "Your coat, sir."
Got down in Sacramento, got my luggage, and Rachel was there for me. We had a nice long talk on the way home and it was awesome.
Even though it was a great trip, I was still really tired when I got home. With the time change, I was up at 2:30 AM and then flew all day, then worked and did my expense report, then did some chores, then despite being exhausted, I couldn't fall asleep.
Friday was also really busy - lots of work to get done with some barely manageable deadlines.
But today I feel great. Rachel and I watched Rattatouille last night. And I slept in this morning. And then I went to the store. Frank and Marla are coming over for dinner tonight, and I am going to go spend the next couple of hours cooking. Frank is bringing some pork chops and a tossed green salad. I'm making Martha's potato cakes and stuffed acorn squash.
It might be party because of the weather, and partly because I had to go to Clearlake and then Wal-Mart on top of it, but I feel raw today - I'm experiencing what the Shambhala tradition calls "The Genuine Heart of Sadness." People were driving like maniacs on wet roads in beat up cars with balding tires and cutting me and others off only to slam brakes and turn without signaling. You know, the usual. And then a scrawny dirty Dad grabbed his son and yelled, "Aw, now where the fuck did yer Mom go!?" And a little later, I was standing in line at the pharmacy, next up, with people behind me and some total meth head sort of staggered and swayed up to the counter. And the lady asked, "Are you next?" And he said he was. And I was angry about it. And then I felt sorry for him. And I realized that I'm pretty lucky, and this poor guy is in the late stages of suffering a miserable existence. So I felt good, and sad.
And then a wannabe cage fighter in a "Tapout" T-shirt wanted to get up in the miserable guys face, perhaps to do some violence. And he had his girlfriend with him. And he was all puffed up and she was trash talking Mr. Miserable, and I got up close to them and said, "You know, that really pissed me off too. But I look at him, and I look at us, and I figure that whatever this guy is suffering from is way worse than what we are suffering from and we should just take a deep breath and let it go.
And it worked. I put myself out there and diffused a bad situation. And it made me feel better. And that led to me making it a point smile at everybody. And later when I was in the 20 item or less line with 19 items, I let a guy with two items go ahead of me.
So what's puzzling me today is, do I get sad because the world is often a sad place, or does my own mood affect the way I perceive the world? I know this sounds like the sort of thing I should have figured out in my junior year of college or something. Or maybe sooner as it is something of a sophomoric realization. But it really struck me today.
Maybe this is something I learned long ago but forgot?
Whatever. I came home. And I started this blog post. And then Tony, I mean Frank showed up early. And we went upstairs and sat around the kitchen drinking wine and talking while I cooked, waiting for our girls to come home. And then we had dinner and celebrated Frank and Rachel's birthdays.
Happy Birthday wife. I love you.
I'll post some pictures of what I cooked tomorrow.
posted by Eric Soderstrom at 4:59 PM
1 Comments:
Rickers, fabulous post.
Thinking perhaps the bump to first class was simply a little good Karma coming back to you. On that note, I had a garage sale yesterday which although it was rainy, was quite successful. Probably 100+ people came and bought up my junk. My neighbor Michael joined me in the sale too and at some point we noticed that a sander was missing as was an antique doorknob. I didn't really get mad and said to Michael, I guess it will work out in his Karma, to which Michael said, maybe it's ours getting worked out. He had a good point I must say. After that I started giving stuff away, partly to make sure I didn't end up with a bunch of stuff leftover, but also just because it felt good to be generous. I gave 2 quilts and a bunch of towels to a lady who will bring them to Animal Care and Control, a bunch of miscellaneous building supplies to a guy I later found out houses prisoners when they get released and gives the construction work at a good wage, and then more goodies to a guy who saw me doing that and said he knew a guy struggling to make ends meet while trying to get going in construction and he would give him a couple of things. Also met a lady who runs a very successful raw foods school here and showed her my house with the thought of renting it to her for visiting students. Made good friends with a couple of women getting going in their home organization business and they may help me out a little. Not sure how it all ties together, but I guess it's that "Pay it Forward" kind of thing, which you did so wonderfully at the checkout aisle.
And to comment on your question as to whether you get sad because the world is often a sad place, or whether it looks that way because of your mood, I'd say you can tell by the qualitative way the sadness feels: If it is a sadness tinged with sweetness, then it that you are more compassionate and can see the sadness differently, if it is tinged with depression, then it is probably more of down mood you are in. The world is miraculously sadly beautiful.
happy birthday Rachel (and Frank).
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