THE JOURNEY OF A THOUSAND MILES (AND A THOUSAND HOURS) BEGINS WITH ONE RAIN DROP!

The following blog was first written on my FACEBOOK note page. But I thought others might want to read it. Enjoy! - DL

THE JOURNEY OF A THOUSAND MILES (AND A THOUSAND HOURS) BEGINS WITH ONE RAIN DROP!

So, my trip from Springfield, IL to Wichita, KS began YESTERDAY at about 10:30 am when I checked out of the Lodge. Thank you Ben H. For the transportation. Before anyone rags on Aaron D. Please realize that he tried to contact me but two issues proceeded his non-contact. 1) my phone was receiving NO SIGNAL all week end. 2) my phone successfully drain both of my batteries and so I had very little juice. But as we left the wonderful town of Petersburg a few rain drop began to fall - a precursor to the unbelievable (or possible believable for those of you who travel by plane more than I do) day.

Ben drops me off at the airport and I check in my baggage and decided to get something to eat at the airport. After getting something to eat I wait for the gift shop to open. When it does open, I ask, “Do you have any cell phone chargers or calling cards?” Silly me, I thought that those would be valid items at an airport gift shop. The clerck looked at me as if I was insane. Now, I admit I may be insane, but I didn’t think asking such a question would prove it. So, I thought to myself, “No problem, when I get to Chicago O’Hare, I can get something!” And that was my first mistake. Not the part of getting something at Chicago, but the part of GETTING TO CHICAGO! You see, those rain drops that I mentioned earlier had friends who were apparently really causing all sorts of havoc in Chicago. And so, A plane flight that was supposed to leave at 2:45 didn’t leave until 5:15. But, it didn’t stop there. We landed at concourse B near the woodshed (seriously, I though they were dropping us off at a back lot or something) And my next flight that I had already understood was cancelled was at concourse F (The other side of Illinois! I swear!!!) And so, I began walking, because I was told that I needed to go to guest services, which I understood was at gate F12. IT WASN’T. Which I found out when I got to F12! (And YES, the reason it is called F 12 is because of F’in! Bomb dropped, nuf said!) So, I then walk back to the beginning of the F concourse to talk to guest services. I meat some great people as I stood in the line that felt like it reached back to concourse B! After getting my ticket squared away, I thought, “I need that Phone charger!” (Which I found! Thank you Brookstone!) And then I thought “I want something to eat!” And so I headed back up concourse F to gate 12 because, . . . wait for it . . . the f’in Wichita Plane was supposedly leaving from F12 at 8:10. It is OK, I didn’t miss it, because it was only 7:30! (Yes, the walking, the waiting in line, the getting the charger and food took 1 hour and 15 min. LONGER than the flight TO Chicago, I might note!) I get back to gate F12 to wait for boarding. Eat my supper. Charge my phone. And wait excitedly that I will soon be home to sleep. *;10 quickly changed to 9:10 . . . which changed to 9:25 which changed to 9:30 which changed to 9:35 which changed to 9:48. We finally heard our boarding call in the following manner “We will not be boarding flights to Wichita, Birmingham, and Calgary all from gate F12C. Now, imagine for just a brief moment everyone for those three flights all trying to get checked through 1 ticket agent and then one by one we walked out to the tarmac and start looking confused asking “Which is the flight to Wichita?” We got on the plan by 10:15 and began taxiing by 10:30. We finally were in the air at about 10:45. OVER TWELVE HOURS AFTER I BEGAN THE WHOLE PROCESS!

Would I do it all over again? Of course, met some great new friends, saw only family/friends and had a great time. I would just do some things differently. “NOTE TO SELF: Next time, no matter how much I tell myself I don’t need the laptop, or the phone charge, pack it anyway!”

-Blessings - DL

HAIR CUTS, CLOSETS, AND LANGUAGE

I thought I was past this, I am not! This past week I went to get my hair cut. Since I have been living with my parents, I have been using their hair stylist. So, while my mom was getting a perm, I got a hair cut. That in itself isn’t the issue that I thought I had past. While I was talking and chatting with the stylist, she made a statement to me that sent me back into the closet. She said, “I am sure you will make a good husband to some woman someday.” And here I was, I was faced with either outing myself to my stylist (which really shouldn’t have been a big deal) or crawl back into the closet, which is what I did. My response was, “No, I was married once and my soul-mate died. I’m not going to marry anymore” What a coward I am!

But my cowardice is only part of the point of this BLOG. The other part lies in culture and language and how slanted language can be and still is. There are times when I am referring to someone on the police force and I still say “Policeman” instead of “police officer” There are times when I will use a seemingly innocuous term which, in the end, is very much pejorative and condemning. Our Language needs to change and we need to be the ones to do it, but if even I can’t seem to succeed at this task, how can I expect others to. It would have been proper to correct the Hair stylist and say that I would make someone a good partner someday, or that I am gay and I will make a gay man happy someday. But, my language and all my years of upbringing lead me to failure.

And so, I ask forgiveness of my culture, my subculture, my society, my identity group, and myself. And I ask for grace, yet again as I try to continue the process of coming out! Anyone want to help?