You Look Like the Pope

-
I wasn’t even through security before I received my text from the airline.

My flight from Buffalo to Chicago was going to be delayed an hour. 

I took the news all right because I was starving! 

The Buffalo airport was clean and there weren’t a hell of a lot of people around. I filled my water bottle after dumping it out twenty feet from security (dumbest rule ever) and I started the long walk to the gate. 

I was nearly to my gate when I saw a sign:

“There are no food or beverage options beyond this point.”

What???

There were three black women beside me looking at the same sign.

“This is bullshit,” one of them said.

“So, where do we get food?” I asked.

“Back by security,” the other girl said.

We all walked all the way back. I got a freaking snickers bar! There were no other options!

I boarded the plane - just 40 of us on a huge plane! I got an exit row all to myself and the attendant came by to let us know how we needed to help if the plane went down.

“I’m willing to help,” I said, “but you might have to wake me up.”

“Oh, you’ll wake up when we hit the water,” the attendant said, and we both laughed.

As the plane took off I saw the attendant and two other attendants looking my way and laughing through their masks.

I did fall asleep and forgot all about it until we were nearly to Chicago. The same attendant stopped by.

“We were laughing because with your gray hair and dark eyes and with your mask up - this is kinda’ weird - but we decided that you look a lot like the Pope.”

“Bless you,” I said, and we both laughed.

The Pope!

In Chicago, Midway was like a ghost town! There were just two restaurants open and the line to each was long. I had enough time to finally eat.

The second plane to Kansas City was a little more crowded, but the middle seats were open.

I felt good about the travel until I arrived in Kansas on Monday.

No one here is wearing masks.

People are sitting in large groups.

At a rest stop I counted 52 people.

One was wearing a mask.

Me.

I kept thinking of Steven Van Zandt saying:

“We’re too f****ng dumb to survive this.”

I stayed to myself, kept the mask on, did my job and left.

People really should do a better job of protecting the Pope.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Suits

-
Like a lot of other people we got pulled into the series, ‘Suits’ on Netflix. I’ve never had much fun hanging around lawyers who have questioned me as a construction safety officer. I once testified in a case where the opposing lawyer started questioning me by going through my educational background. “So,” he said, racing to a crescendo, “You graduated from college with a degree in Communications-Journalism and suddenly, 30 years later, you’re a ‘safety expert.’” He actually made the quotation marks with his fingers. I just looked at him. “How does that happen?” He bellowed, sure that he was going to discredit me. “Well,” I said. “I knew I was overqualified to become a lawyer.” The courtroom erupted in laughter. Even the judge chuckled. The rest of his questions landed flat. So, I wasn’t all that keen on a show about lawyers, but ‘Suits’ is great. Meghan Markle became a princess because of the show, and she is very good in it (and a beautiful woman). Yet, there is so much more. The wri
Read more

My Buddy, Dave

-
Way back in 1997, I started working with a steel erection company out of Syracuse. I was coming straight from a long stint with a steel erector here in Buffalo so I knew my stuff when it came to steel erection safety rules. On day one, I met with the safety director and he was just getting started as a safety guy, but man, he certainly cared about the guys he worked with. Dave was a good man from the start. He’d say things like: “You’re so full of beans.” Just a down to earth, hardworking guy who became a fast friend. We drove all around New York State setting up jobs. I always let Dave drive so that I could rest. One fine day, way up North of Syracuse, we passed a state trooper.  I glanced at the speedometer. “You’re screwed,” I said, and seconds later, the lights came on. Dave was beside himself.  The cop stopped by the window, grabbed the license and registration and headed back to his vehicle. “Here’s the thing,” I said. “You’re pissed, but you’re such a good guy that I bet you tha
Read more

Mom & Ollie

-
Image
 Ollie Stadium is a mess. The heavy rains rendered the backyard a mud pit and even though we threw in the side yard, the Big O was looking for more, and we were both covered in mud. I had to take some steam out of him somehow so I suggested we go visit Grandma. Ollie hates the car, but he laid quietly as we made the trip. We even brought the football because there is plenty of room to play at Grandma’s. Mom opened the door and started laughing. I thought about the love she had for every single dog we ever had. Oliver was quick to give my Mom a kiss, and then he stood beside her. The love between Mom and Dogs is a mutual bond. Through the years, Mom would make breakfast for the dogs.  Fried eggs, toast, bacon… She would wrap Christmas gifts for them. “To Jeter, Love Santa,” she would write on the cards. They played with the big chicken that made a lot of noise. Mom tossed the football and Ollie brought it back to her. As the visit drew to a close I headed for the door.  “C’mon, Oliver,”
Read more