Taking Flight

I was waiting in line at the airport on my way to The Comic Strip in Edmonton this past week, when the TSA agent asked the young man in front of me if I was his wife. The young man looked me up and down then scurried away horrified. Embarrassed, I said to agent, "I guess I look more like his mom." The agent looked at my ID, then winked at me and said, "If anything, hot step-mom." We'll played TSA man, well played...


Right before that, two healthy looking grandmas, ala Mrs. Claus, cut in line in front of me and 100 others. They looked at me slyly and sing-songed, "Oh dear, we just didn't see the end of the line." I returned their sly smile and sing-songed back sweetly, "Oh yes you did.." We all laughed together, then awkwardly stood there staring at each other. Finally they shrugged then shuffled to the back of the line. 

The week before that was a nail biter at the airport, my youngest flew as an unaccompanied minor for the first time. I had to fill out a sh*tload of paperwork, supply him with a pre-paid credit card so he wouldn't feel left out when the other kids showed off theirs, and last but not least; made sure his computer was completely charged so he wouldn't get bored during the two hour flight. When I was kid, you got dumped at the bus stop with a ticket, a spent grocery bag with all your belongings, and an Oh, Henry bar that had to keep you satiated from the Colorado foothills, to the dusty streets of Modesto. Times have certainly changed. 

Upon my return home from The Comic Strip in Edmonton, one of the first conversations I had with my oldest twerp went something like this. My son: Do you think the Rolling Stone cover of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev was a publicity stunt? Me: Probably, but perhaps they were trying to make the point that anybody, no matter how benign they look can be a terrorist. My son: Do you think it's offensive? Me: I can certainly understand why people are pissed. My son: But Time magazine put Hitler on the cover. Me: Yeah, but they didn't make him glowy and sensual. My son: I get it, you wouldn't want to see Hitler with a sexy, "Who's your Fuhrer?" Look on his face.