Well, all good things must come to an end. My stay was interesting, I'll give it that. But there are babysitting duties that need resumed and although I would prefer to stay here and work and be meaningful, there are those in Kitschland who depend on me. That is what being a Dad, husband and Papa is all about. It's something like 'we not choosing our life, but life chooses us' sort of thing. I could no more live up here permanently without them than I could live down there permanently without Northlandia. Until circumstances change or I no longer feel the tug, this is the dichotomy I have to balance. So far, so good.
As always the Wombie and Mrs. Wombie were the perfect travelling companions - he prefers to drive and she prefers to sprinkle each conversation with her bon mots, humor and special "did you know's".
Ah, Northlandia, the place where you drive by a house about 2 miles outside Emerald City at three in the morning and you see a lit Christmas tree through the picture window...in August. (I have pictures)
The place where someone knows you so well they send a party invite that reads "a small gathering". (They knew that would get me there)
The place where a guy comes up, asks how are you Mike, and you have a 10 minute conversation and have no idea who the guy was. (OK, I had an inkling, and confirmed later. I had the right last name but the wrong first)
The place where you go into the local bar and they always give you a plastic cup to go with your beer because they know that's the way you drink it.
The same bar where when certain folks walk in you just feel better having them there: guys like Mike E, Danny L, Dave O, D & C, Neil, and my in-a-different-universe, wish-I-could-be-more-like-that free spirit, Kate.
The place where you run into Harvey, the last of the Uncle Ed gang, and reminisce about the things you used to do on the farm but are now obsolete.
The place where you move up your trip back by three days because of a hurricane, and everyone says ..."good move, family comes first."
The town where there's not just one "open 24 hours" convenience gas station, but two!
The area where the Wombie and I walk into places and there's usually someone who says "there's double trouble".
The place where you put a call out for air mattresses and stuff for visiting grandkids and offers come from everywhere.
The place where Danny's Dad comes over during a family get-together at the Bowling Alley and playfully teases Alfred. He's in his 90's, she is 2. It is a vision that reminds us all the preciousness of family.
It's home, guys. No where quite like it. When I die please don't bury me in the scrub and sand of Kitschland. Plant me anywhere north of Kentucky, south of Wisconsin, east of Iowa and west of Indiana.
ADDENDUM
As most of you know by now I am not leaving on this Monday. Hurricane Irma is a bitch. Because I have unlimited wealth I decided last week to get another ticket home last Friday. I wanted to beat the weather and possible airport closings. I didn't make it. St.Pete/Clearwater Airport closed and left me with two tickets and yet no ticket to ride.
I wanted to be with my family. I had this visual of me sitting in a lawn chair at Prime Beef festival car show chatting inanely (that's how I chat) while all my Florida peeps were dodging palm trees and pythons. A guy is supposed to protect those he loves. I knew there were two girls who would want hugs when it got really bad outside. When I Facetimed Florida Norah was front and centered and started crying inconsolably because her Papa wasn't coming after all.
I checked Expedia and saw several flights, none non-stop, that went through Dallas-Fort Worth, some airport in South Carolina and Atlanta. I don't have the greatest confidence in my ability to navigate mega-airports. I recalled home and the current Mrs. Blythe and daughter Kenzie got their collective heads together and procured me a flight on Friday from Quad-Cities to Chicago and then to Tampa.
The Wombie knocked on my door at 2:30 am Friday and off we went to the airport - making contingent plans should I get stranded in Chicago. Of course, my worries about O'Hare tended to cloud my joy. Well, it ended up being a piece of cake. Since both flights were United both gates were in the same concourse. I found gate C23 and sat. And sat. I got an update on my cell phone flight app that there would be a 30 minute delay. Uh oh. And then another update - an hour late taking off. Would my worse-case come true? Would I end up in O'Hare Airport for days? Weeks? Years?
And then - like the eye of a hurricane - light shown through and the app informed me that the flight would be taking off on time after all. Quick trip to restroom and when I got back passengers, all 40 of us, lined up to get on board.
Once inside I hunkered down for the long wait to take-off. I knew that Tampa could close at any moment and my fear of becoming a Chicago casualty wouldn't subside until we were in the air. Then a message from the cockpit. There were traffic control issues, oh, and a minor maintenance thing but once we got clearance and a pesky mechanical thing fixed we would take off. And, of course there was paperwork to deal with. All the while, Irma kept coming.
Finally, finally we take off and I can relax. I was so relaxed I even took advantage of the near-empty plane to visit the loo. It was my first time. I don't like wandering around and standing and waiting for restrrom time so I generally abstain from food and drink on travel days. But today? What the Hell. By the way, what's with the ice in the sink?
I arrived home and I am typing this addendum on Saturday morning after walking around the block for my morning exercise. here is the plan. My blog is generally linear - I follow a timeline, but I am chucking that for this week and I will be reporting on Irma, at least until the power goes out. Tomorrow I will post the usual Tuesday Tidbits written last week, but then on Wednesday on I will focus on the Big Blow.
It looks like now the track will take the eye not far from where we are. They are talking maybe Tampa and a more westward path rather than eastward. That's good for Tybee, not good for us. But we shall see. The power will go out for possibly days. We are full of water, non-perishables and hunkering down here at Waterboard Apartments. It is more block style with fewer windows than Kenzie and Drew's house. We will have them along with us, and hopefully Brendan and his family and a workmate of he Cuurent Mrs. Blythe's. Maybe a total of 11 in this little place. All are welcome, it's safety first.
During my walk I stopped in Wal-Mart which is closing today for milk and creamer and as I was checking out the nice clerk put my change in my hand and held on for a brief moment, found my eyes, and said with the greatest of sincerity, "Stay safe."
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