...and nothing provides clarity like a little perspective

It had been a perfect Thanksgiving, with great food, wonderful people, a roaring (OK…it was gas) fire and a somewhat unexpected early-evening snowfall (after an unseasonably warm near-record 60 degree high that day) that deposited a picturesque one-inch coating of snow on Maple Grove and throughout the greater Minneapolis area.  The Friday that followed was also nice, and started with an invigorating three-mile,  three-degree wind-chill aided run around Rice Lake before a day of shopping, my yearly movie (Skyfall) and various other luxuries provided by my generous brother and sister-in-law. Departure day on Saturday was also good, and included a leisurely IHOP breakfast with my nephew  before heading to a surprisingly quiet MSP airport for what was shaping up to be a smooth trip back home to DC. Even my slick new Ford Escape rental car was better than usual, and after cruising around for 48 hours listening to Siriusly Sinatra on the premium sound system in the comfort of heated seats, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to work re-entry and the holiday weekend coming to an end.

Given that I spend two-thirds of each year wishing my life away  looking forward to football, changing leaves, Thanksgiving and the holidays, it’s still sad to me when I think about how quickly they all fly by. Just yesterday I was celebrating the first college football game of the season and promising to really take in the Fall season. Now, once again, after barely blinking…Labor Day, Halloween and Thanksgiving are all fading fast in the rearview mirror…and the weeks ahead will be the typical frenzied blur. Though I romanticize each holiday season about quiet nights by the fire in the glow of the lighted tree, history dictates it won’t be long before we’re mired in the charmless days of post-holiday winter. So...as I thought about these things and the realities of all the pre-Christmas work that waited at home while sitting in the United Red Carpet lounge waiting for the return DC flight, I wasn’t surprised to find the post-Thanksgiving blues starting to seep in.  

After all, after looking forward to it for months, the idyllic Thanksgiving weekend was now over and my mind shifted to the coming hassles of decorating, harrowing gift shopping, mounting chores,  and the unavoidable frayed nerves that result from the inevitable chaos of overbooked holiday schedules (why do I spend the whole year looking forward to this?). As I glanced around the imbecile convention (not sure what it means that it took me 5 minutes…including a google search, to find out how to spell “imbecile”) that is Gate E4 of the Minneapolis U.S. Airways waiting area, the conglomeration of de-evolving life forms preparing to board a commercial airliner adorned in their lint-covered jammies, camo pants and generally offensive leisure/trash wear had me feeling pretty low. Probably hard to believe, but by the time I plopped down in my upgraded first class seat for the 2 ½ hour flight to the nation’s capital…I already had a pretty bad attitude.

 As I sat there watching the people schlepping back to coach in their manpris and flip flops, my mind drifted to that old evolutionary chart from elementary school and I started to wonder if we were really improving as a species. Actually…in reality…you didn’t have to observe much to realize there wasn’t a need to waste much time contemplating that question. As they filed by…the answer seemed sadly obvious, and I started to connect the dots between my increasing back pain and man’s inevitable return to all fours.

Seated in front of me to my right against the bulkhead was a young couple. They couldn’t have been very old, and though the fresh-faced chap sported a fairly clean-cut look, their combined disdain of fashion indicated they were committed to validating my return to homos erectus theory. To compound matters, the dude’s holey jeans and graphic tee look were augmented by untied hi-top basketball shoes that must have been designed to give him kind of a pseudo hip-hop look.  He also exacerbated their obvious unwarranted intrusion into the refined First Class cabin by propping his left foot on a pillow which extended at least partially into the galley food-prep area and dangerously close to the public space that brave and desperate passengers navigate when they’ve thrown in the towel and decide to use the glove compartment sized lavatories.

After a bit I heard the flight attendant tell the couple that she’d put his crutches in the small coat closet. In the course of their exchange, she asked the young lad how he’d hurt his leg. “I got hit by a rocket” he replied… “in Afghanistan...I got to spend a couple of days at home but I’m headed back to Walter Reed.”

It was a good Thanksgiving. Somehow my problems seem a little smaller now…and my back hurts a little less too.

It’s Friday, so enjoy the magic of the season by having a truly wonderful and well-deserved weekend. If you can, do something fun and try to feel at least a little grateful for the fact you have the freedom to do so.

 

Sorry for all the typos and mistakes.

 

Boy was he cool...