Makes Me Want to Slow Down

      Monday was a surprisingly relaxing day even though Cyndi and I spent it, essentially stranded, in Houston.

      It started the day before when we were trying to return from a family beach vacation in Florida but got ambushed by tropical storm Fred. I say ambushed, even though we knew for several days the storm was approaching. But being from West Texas we tend to disregard weather interruptions of our plans since storms typically dissipate before we make changes. Not this time. Not in Florida.

      Our first delay was in Panama City when our flight to Houston was delayed two hours. First because of weather in Florida, later because of weather in Houston. By the time we finally left Florida we knew we had (1) missed our flight to Midland, then (2) learned the flight had been canceled.

      It wasn’t a big upset until we discovered that, no, we couldn’t catch the sunrise flight home, but our only option was 6:50 pm. Cyndi lost color in her face and said, “I’m in trouble.” She immediately started working her Monday schedule in her mind, counting the number of substitute teachers she would need and the private sessions she’d cancel. The sweet Southwest Airlines gate attendant in Houston rebooked our flight to Midland (there were only four seats remaining for Monday). She told us to grab our suitcases at baggage claim.

      I mingled with several hundred other stranded and delayed passengers in baggage claim for an hour while Cyndi filled her classes. The entire crowd was frustrated and tired. Then, as it turns out, we learned we’d been misinformed about our suitcases; they were being held back and would be put on the first available plane to Midland.

      So, we shuttled to a hotel and settled into our room, which went quickly since we had no luggage.

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You make want to slow down
Baby, make it easy
I'll take the long way around
Just as long as you're with me
In a city full of neon burnin' too bright
Baby, you're my yellow light
You make me want to slow down

(Slow Down, by Caillat, Young, Reeves, Joy, and Kenney.)

*  *  *  *  *

      We both woke up about 7:00 am Monday morning, pondering how to spend the next twelve hours until our flight home. Thanks to the Around Me ap we discovered a Whataburger within walking distance, our closest choice for spending time. We grabbed our books and iPad and walked the two miles, arriving hot and sweaty but happy to be somewhere else, ate our taquito and pancake breakfast, absorbed the air conditioning, and did a bit of work (scheduling, reading, web maintenance, writing, that sort of thing). Cyndi and I have had study dates at fast food restaurants frequently during our forty-two years together, so we have learned to not only redeem the time, but to enjoy it.

      After about an hour we walked back to the hotel and showered (it was August in Houston, after all). I tried using a hair dryer to dry out my only clothes with limited results; they were still damp when we shuttled back to Hobby.

      Well, it was 1:00 pm when we cleared TSA. We found a table near an electrical outlet in the food court and set up office. And there, in that place, we spent the next five hours – again, reading and writing and computing and watching yoga videos and taking notes and occasionally walking around to exercise or find food. It was a surprisingly relaxing day. We knew it was impossible to get home any sooner so why worry about it. Some of our best moments as a couple, our most repeated stories, come from being stranded somewhere.

      Granted, it would have been a different story if we’d had young children with us. Or if we weren’t prepared with projects to work on. Or if we hadn’t discovered a perfect location to set up camp. But, instead, it was a good day.

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32