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Michael's Diary Entries Diary Navigation: Choose A Diary Entry -------------------- Latest Entry: 8/28/00 -------------------- 8/21/00 8/14/00 8/7/00 8/1/00 7/24/00 7/17/00 7/10/00 7/3/00 6/26/00 6/19/00 6/12/00 6/5/00 5/29/00 5/22/00 5/14/00 -------------------- Michael's Introduction

July 24, 2000

Dear Readers,

I hope you forgive me for the maudlin ending to the last entry. I can get overcome with sentiment sometimes, especially when left alone for extended periods of time.

Fly, Fly, Fly Back
After three days alone, it was time to pick them up. I couldn't wait to see them. I waited outside the Northwest Airlines arrival terminal. And I waited. And waited. And I watched every passenger get off the plane. But my family was not among them. I finally saw an airline worker carrying our car seat down the stairs and a few steps above him I saw Lisa carrying Allison and holding Brandon's hand. She was carefully navigating the stairs and trying not to let the heavy backpack strapped over her shoulders throw her off balance.

What would any normal person do at seeing this scene? Help, of course. I immediately moved to go through the door to the stairs when the attendant ordered me to stop. "Stop?" I said. "I'm going to help them." "You can't," she said. I continued my protest: "But they're right there and I can't help them. This is ridiculous." She then informed me, "If an agent from the FAA was here, you'd get fined $25,000 for going there without a ticket."

I love bureaucrats and the way they help me. I moved back and hoped that they wouldn't tumble down the stairs. After all, Lisa would not have pleased if I would have got a $25,000 fine for merely helping my family down the stairs.

After exchanging hugs and kisses, Lisa told me that the reason why it took them so long to get off the plane was that some oaf was rushing down the aisle of the plane and in his haste to leave he banged Brandon in the face with his carry on luggage. Poor Brandon got a bloody lip and a delayed return while the rude jerk got out quickly. Where is the justice? And we wonder why there is such a thing called "Air Rage." Good thing I wasn't there.

Everything else went fine. The kids got a kick out of the luggage carrier and wanted to follow its path behind the wall. I think that they wanted to take a ride on it. Walking to the car, the kids were still excited about planes and looked up to see them coming and going. They also seemed happy to see me. They chattered non-stop about their trip -- playing at the Beach, riding their friend's car and going to the Mall of America. It was great to have them back. But I will make a confession: By the time we arrived home from the airport, I couldn't wait for them to go to asleep: the kids, that is, not Lisa.

Go Speed Racer Go
On the way home, Lisa told me more about Brandon's driving adventure. Her friend's son has one of those motorized kid cars. Apparently while they were playing in the backyard -- but not paying much attention to the kids -- Brandon strolled over to the car and took it for a spin. As soon as he started moving, he excitedly called out, "Mom, I'm driving Micah's car!" Lisa was terrified because Brandon had never driven one of these cars. She knew that he didn't know how to stop it and he was heading straight for the laundry pole. Lisa sprinted to him and lifted his foot off the accelerator pedal stopping the car a mere two inches from the pole. Other than that, Brandon did a really good job of driving for his first time behind the wheel. Anyway, I think I'll keep him on his tricycle at home.

Missing Sis
While my family was away, I realized how much I missed my sister who recently moved away. She was my chatting buddy, my calling in the middle of the day for no reason friend, my hanging out at the bookstore just for the heck of it chum, and my getting a really good cup of flavorful coffee pal. Now, I kept myself busy doing my odd jobs, reading and writing, but I kept thinking that if Sandra were here, we could go to Borders and get one of those Carmel Chocolate Whipped Cream Lattes.

I also had a nice visit with my mom and grandma, eating pizza and talking. I particularly enjoyed some of grandma's reminisces. And I had a fun night out with my brother in which we visited a relatively new Cuban restaurant, browsed the stacks of a used bookstore, and imbibed on adult beverages while watching some local rock band. The band, Halfway Jane, was good for what they were, but I say give me string quartet, a violin concerto, or symphony any day. To be safe, we took a cab out and one home.

With some but not others,
Michael