Last Call for our Final Passenger

There is lots to talk about now-a-days! Houston, Las Vegas, San Fran, Monterey, Santa Cruz. All in the past month! But first things first.

I HAVE to thank the kind Danish lady in line in front of me at the security check point in terminal A in SFO airport on April 9 at about 4 pm. If it were not for this lady, I would not have made my flight.

You see, I thought that I had plenty of time! I left my car in long term parking, the nice bus driver dropped me off outside the right terminal, I was even already checked in with the boarding pass that I printed at home. I thought, I'll just walk right through security and get right on board! I had no bags to check! It should have been a breeze!

But no.

The first woman to check for a boarding pass instructed me 'go to the left'. This was the long line but I thought maybe she is directing me toward my gate so I continued to the left. Mistake. While waiting in the long line, it just so happened that it reached that time of day when security personnel's shifts end. So the security check point went from six functioning x-ray lanes down to one.

O no.

I reached the second TSA guy to check my ID and boarding pass and I let him know "mister, my flight is already boarding now and I only have 20 minutes until departure!"

He looked forward up the line and said, "don't worry, you have plenty of time."

I made a point to look at his name badge. "Kenneth" I said, "Listen, I know you know what you're doing, and 20 minutes seems like plenty of time, but they close the gate 10 minutes before departure. That means I really only have 1o minutes to make it through this line! Isn't there any way you can help me reach the front sooner?"

"Noooo, that's plenty of time! You'll make it!"
He clearly had no concept of time. I don't think that he didn't care, I think that he genuinely thought that I would make it.

I wouldn't.
"Kenneth," I said in all seriousness, "if I don't make it onto my flight, then I am coming back here to let you know and make you feel real bad."

"haha. OK."

"I mean it Kenneth! Now your shift isn't ending too is it? I don't want to come back here and find you gone!"

"Nope. I'll be here."

Damn you, Kenneth. So sure of yourself.
I thought for sure that I was going to miss that flight.

But then, something happened that changed everything.

The nice lady in line in front of me, holding her Danish passport, said, "you can go in front of me if you'd like. I know its just one person, but it will help."

It did help! I took her place and thanked her with a smile, wondering if I should start asking everyone else in line in front of me to show a similar kindness. It worked in Houston, after all, when I arrived so late to the airport that I cut the check in line, registered at the first class counter (I flew coach), and asked

each
and
every
individual
in
the
line

to let me in front of him until I got to the front because the security woman stopped me when I cut in front of that line too. She showed no sympathy, all fairness. But that's a different story.

So, here I am in SFO in the line watching some old man fight with the only x-ray guy because he wants to bring a stick on board. Not a walking stick. Not a stick for the blind. It was just a stick he found on the ground. Fell off a tree. Probably has them at home. Where ever he's from. Let it go, old man! Let it go!

Somebody comes along to take the old man aside. YESSS. We continue. 4 minutes until the gate closes. This is going to be close. I start stripping. Shoes. Belt. Hair clip. Jacket. Bling. OFF! I dump everything in the bins, put them on the conveyer belt. GO BELT! GO!

Pass under the metal detector. Look back. My clothes are out! I redress staring down the x-ray machine. Here it comes! My one and only bag! It slides out oh so slowly when, what's this? X-ray man notices that there are no more empty bins for the people in line. The belt stops, my bag stops! NOOOOO!!! It's trapped in that stupid cage that they put there so people don't stick their arms in the x-ray machine! NO! NO! NO! Danish lady puts her fingers through the cage to try to push my bag along but I knew it wasn't going to work. I had to wait for just the right moment, when x-ray man had his back turned, then REACH! I stuck my arm in the cage- I was that person!

I snatched my bag and yanked it as fast as I could and Danish lady calls "You'd better run!" but I was already gone.

RUN! RUN! RUN! No time for tiny wheels on the stupid rolling bag now! I was hoofing it holding my bag at chest height for maximum leg-span between each step, when I hear an announcement on the loudspeaker:

"Last call for Natalie Condon, Gate A3, non-stop to Las Vegas. Miss Condon if you are near the gate you must board now. We are closing the gate in 1 minute and we will leave without you. Last call for our final passenger, Natalie Condon."

OMG!! noooohuhhooooohhh! Please don't close the gate on meee!

When I finally ran up to the ticket counter and thrust my ticket toward the attendant, she looked at me and said, "you just made it."

Only because that Danish lady let me go in front of her. Otherwise, I'd still be in line while x-ray man refilled the bins. Thanks, lady, whoever you were =)

The Hunt is On

"TIMBER!"

I finally had the opportunity to use this word for its true purpose. This holiday season my family and I journeyed up into the magical Santa Cruz Mountains to chop down a Christmas tree. Ears popping with the altitude, and nose burning in the cold I trudged through the mud as the heavy fog turned to a light rain. Misty Mountain Hop played in my head. Every tree was perfect. How could we choose? We spent around an hour debating the tiniest details of a tree until no one cared anymore, so long as we went home with one. We finally agreed to a spectacular 14 ft. tall tree. It was a beauty! Sadly, we brought it home and realized that it would not fit in the house. It had to be cut.

It was heart breaking to watch it dwindle away as more and more of the trunk and its branches fell, severed, to the floor. By the time it made it to the living room and nestled in by the fire with the rest of us, it looked like it could have been any other tree from the lot. It stood only half of its original size, but we knew it was ours- our glorious tree.