Monday, November 15, 2010

Almost Home

Of all of the airports in the world Miami is the worst. Denver is up there somewhere because of the smoking policy. In Boston you can get on a bus between planes and never get off. Let’s not even bring up Atlanta.

Paris on the other hand is great. As is Berlin. Though in Amsterdam this blond haried buxom woman patted me down and I thought it was great! I tried to go back twice but Bill Berry (not the former drummer for REM but the other one who went to Seminary with me) made me get on our flight to Prague.

In Havana I was thrown into an office and yelled at. I also had to pee really bad at the time and they make you pay to pee in Havana. Capitalism is working after all. The same thing happened in Nassau when I tried to return from Cuba though this time it was Americans yelling at me.

I got stuck in Pittsburgh for four days which is one of my all time favorite airports but there was like 37 feet of snow on the ground and I hate snow as much as I hate Satan or Hitler. My friend Suzanne made it tolerable with her Hot Tub though she taught me how to cuss with the best of them. Jim Withers, the famous doctor was there that night but he pretty much proved to be useless.

The Savannah/Hilton Head International Airport is an oxymoron.

But somehow tonight I cleared customs in Miami and actually made the connection. I have a window seat on a tiny plane and it looks as though someone took a giant Christmas tree and flattened it over an entire city. There are white lights mostly for those who prefer those at Christmas and the red and green lights are rushing down the highways.

The blackness of the ocean separates it all over there. I am struck that when I started this trip it was with a magnificent sunrise from way up high and as I end it is with blackness and flattened Christmas tree lights.

Ho, Ho, Ho.

So it is back home now. I have missed a lot. And I haven’t missed it at all.

If I had my preference I would pluck many people out of their lives and take them to St. Martin with me. Of course I would also take them home to Tybee Island with me. They could take Goddess for a walk when I’m watching football on the porch. Or let’s be honest, I’m probably sitting on the beloved back deck with Goddess and if you want to take a walk then she and I are fine with it.

But I am ready for home. I miss the smell. When I lay in bed with Goddess snoring beside me there is a smell that I love; salt air and must and something that God sprinkles down when she isn’t busy saving us all.

But there is a future to build and I’m pretty determined that love will be a big part of it and Rebekah keeps giving me orders and I trust her though I don’t always listen to her. And I’ve missed my family at the Breakfast Club and according to Keller Deal Johnny O is spreading rumors about us. And Roma evidently learned to type while I was gone. And Chuck Courtenay is going to do another sidewalk concert and I love Chuck.

So there’s a lot to do.

And I have to go to Pittsburgh next week.

And the Hot Tub is finally fixed.

Ho, Ho, Ho.