Thursday, June 26, 2008

400

You could tell the plane was full of New Yorkers.

As soon as it landed, everyone surged forward, quickly out the door, up the hall, into the airport. We all did that brisk New York City walk over to the airport tram, and when the doors opened, we all moved in, filling the car, moving into small spaces, flowing around those who didn't move like sand around rocks in a jar. The tram moved, subdued speech, doors opened, and again, we did the New York City Trot down to the luggage carousel.

Standing, standing....looking at watches, then at the conveyor belt that was not delivering our luggage. As one, 10-15 people leaned out over the revolving carousel that still did not have the luggage we needed... we looked the same way you do peering down the tunnel for a train you tell yourself is late, even though you know it isn't.

Announcement--our luggage is at a different location, the airline is sorry for the bad information. A chorus of voices mutters, "FUCK!" as we spin and move looking like a flock of birds flying in those patterns you question....how do they know when to turn all at the same time? I'm not sure of their reasons, ours was the deep desire to get our luggage and leave.

Luggage grabbed, on a trolley, Sisterwife picks me up amid squeals and joyous noises. A meal at In-n-Out Burgers, including two chocolate malts to go, and we hit the road. The two hours back here fly by, I am hit with my first time paying for gas, putting me in shock and we are at her home, where I find my sofa made up, as if I'd never left from my last visit a year ago. Three in the morning, to me it's five, and I'm exhausted.

It's 9AM the next morning, and I can hear breathing. "Is she awake?". Two sets of eyes are staring at me, breathing out little children's morning breath. We are off and running for the day, kids fed, to the theatre and I'm going over rehearsal reports, looking at props, hugging old friends. One rehearsal to watch, marking where and when props not noted in the script appear, sorting out what I have to buy, find, build in my head.

Home. Off to the Church of the Cinema 8 with The Investment and Sisterwife to see The Happening (or, as we called it, a remake of An Inconvenient Truth by M. Night), laughter and screams inside... the film wasn't that good, but, there were excellent screaming parts. Popcorn and diet Pepsi. Have I been gone?

Another rehearsal today, more lists to do, arrangements to get my house livable by the weekend, hot summer sun, the never ending Utah wind, trees and grass and flowers that don't touch the lush green of where I've been.

400 posts in a journal I started to keep my family in touch, that has allowed me to make lovely friends. I feel a pang over what was just two days ago; although home, I'm homesick. This, too, will pass.

Fast, furious, productive 48 hours, where I slide back into what I used to be, with a touch of something else added to the mix. A sense of calmness, of knowledge of my job, knowing I had much happen while I was away....

Thank you to everyone who does stop by to read these blatherings, you flatter me with your kindness.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Glad you made it safely.

Bud said...

No kindness involved. I need to read you like I need to hear from all my loved ones. Glad you're back into a groove. I hope it becomes completely comfortable very quickly.

Anonymous said...

I could relate to so much of that. You and I should go for a martini some time.

Anonymous said...

BTW, you made me think of a bumper sticker I had circa 1985: "In N Out Burger", only like everyone at the time, I cut out the B and the R.

austere said...

http://blogs.bigadda.com/ab/2008/06/24/free-press-journal-article/?cp=all#comments


Quin. You rock. Calm I completely envy. No, no thanks. Just be.

Now that link, yes? That's Mr AB. Some interesting thoughts there. Given its your life-work. What do you think?

(my few words o'wisdom peppered in the comments someplace)

the Constantly Dramatic One said...

400? Wow. You totally pwned my ass.

The Happening kinds sucks. In my opinion. But this Quin, like every other thing your wrote is lovely.