Home again

[aadler]

 
Bringing things up to date.

Open first cut — the Journey Home

Somehow, a follow-up deposit our son made (he’d held out some for his own use, then gone on to put that in his mother’s account) never got credited, so Susan and I arrived at Schiphol Airport with €10,45 and no access to more. Susan observed that the automatic deposit already scheduled would mean that, if we checked into a hotel Thursday evening, we’d be able to pay for it by Friday morning checkout time. I responded, but what if it isn’t credited until your bank opens, which would (in Amsterdam time) mean early afternoon? She acknowledged the possibility, so we simply remained at the airport.

For almost a full twenty-four hours. We ate MREs. Susan read on a paperback she’d acquired; I read parts of “Glass Ceiling” aloud to her. In the late evening, we went to a higher floor of the airport — fewer people, and it seemed to be just a bit warmer — and Susan pulled clothes from her suitcase, spread them on the floor as a makeshift mattress, and slept for five or six hours, with my coat as a cover. I stayed awake, reading from her paperback and occasionally pacing, until she woke, then I dozed in one of the airport chairs for an hour or so.

Then, about 6:30 AM, I checked one of the downstairs ATMs and was able to withdraw €20, so we were good again. (Which also meant we indeed could have stayed at a hotel, but we got through the night okay anyhow.) We had breakfast at the airport Burger King — the first eating place to open — and waited the necessary remaining time, and checked in at British Airways, and (with judicious calculation) contrived to spend all but 35 cents of the euros we still had on hand.

As before, the British Airways (Open Skies) flight was wonderful luxury. Wonderful. The flight was seven and a half hours. I slept perhaps two. We landed at JFK … and, on retrieving our luggage, found that the conveyors at one airport or another had torn open my suitcase.

We made reservations at a Holiday Inn Express, took the hotel shuttle there (right outside the airport; seriously, it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes away). On acquiring a room for the night, I hooked my laptop to their Internet and Susan did more of this week’s online doctoral work, and I called for meal delivery from a Chinese restaurant, and we reallocated clothing and other possessions into our remaining baggage so we could leave the ruptured suitcase.

Back to JFK in the morning, then airport-to-airport shuttle to Newark, and checked in for our departure flight in good time. (It could have been close, but we caught all the breaks.) Stopover in Detroit, then connecting flight home. We landed at our airport, Susan turned on her phone to let our kids know we’d arrived … and learned from our son that his campus was locked down because two people had been killed in a shooting there.

So, as soon as we got our luggage to my car, we drove straight to center-state instead of spending one night (as originally planned) at home.

Close cut

Other news:

Open second cut — Political

My son has already voted early, and took his grandparents to do the same. I delivered Susan’s absentee ballot today (she’s working a long shift Tuesday), and tomorrow I’ll go to the designated place directly across the street to cast my ballot. (Our daughter can’t vote because, having been all over the country for the past four years, she never registered in a single place.)

The polls continue to tighten. If the trend continued, they would begin to broaden again, just in the opposite direction. No time left for that, though.

One conservative commentator offered his opinion that an Obama victory would be much worse for the nation in the short run, and much better in the long run (presumably he was anticipating a reactive conservative resurgence). Personally, I’d just as soon not find out.

Close cut

Open third cut — Miscellaneous

My daughter (sroni) went back to the doctor for another check-up today. Enough other things have been ruled out, they’re now looking at fibromyalgia as a good candidate for likely diagnosis.

The people from whom our son borrowed money, to pad Susan’s account till we could finish our Netherlands visit: we’ll be repaying them tomorrow, and probably hosting them for lunch as well.

Close cut

We’re home again, and we’re returning to our routine.

Comments

[aadler]

Shocked Susan more than it did me. It was like a mortar attack: by the time you hear the boom, you already know it didn’t hit you. (Unless it did, but in my case that was never.) I guess I just don’t have that particular kind of imagination. I recognize these things, but they aren’t real to me unless they actually happen.

[ozma914.livejournal.com]

That's pretty much the way it is with me, too. When somebody asks if I get scared at fires, I tell them I'm too busy.

[aadler]

Which is why (and at this point, I’m speaking of the results of the election) I’m scared now when I wasn’t before: because, before, it either hadn’t happened yet or had already not-happened. Now I’m looking ahead to a situation that could be bad before I arrive and worse after I get there.

But, hey, this is “change we can believe in”.

[ozma914.livejournal.com]

Hm ... I wonder if that's why I went into such a major depression Wednesday morning? Even I was surprised at how emo I got.