The Opening Door

11:30 AM and we're done early. I don't want to sit around Yuma until almost 7 to fly out.

I call USAir and sit on hold for about 30 minutes. Brad finally picks up, asks for my reservation number, and then asks me to hold again while my call is transferred "to a desk that can handle it." After about 5 more minutes of bad music and exhortations to travel to Vegas and Europe, Jackie picks up, gets into her system, and tells me the next flight is at

12:30 PM and it's now too late to make it.

Fine, I guess I'll go visit my old houses and maybe see a movie. I drive out to the foothills, check out my older house (lived there from 92 to 95) - now it's a pretty ugly dark brown/red color. When we sold it, it was covered in a pretty attractive cream stucco. The tree in the back yard certainly has done well. Look, it's for sale again. I sure wish I had brought my guitar or had a bike to ride I still have a lot of time to kill because it's

1:30 PM so I drive back towards town to see our more recent home.

This is our "dream house" where we were going to live when we came back here for my squadron command tour, and possibly retire in because we loved it so much. They're building a new high school about half a mile away, so that would have been a good plan. This house looks better than when we sold it - they've taken good care of the yard. I can see the tree in the backyard over the roof - a sapling when we lived here. I miss this house, so drive away to escape the tears before it's too late, like

2:30 PM and I'm in the new movie theater downtown.

I take my seat for 90 minutes of escapism with Jim Carrey and the number 23 - it's freaky and unsettling, and more interesting than I expected. It takes my mind off how much emotion I'm carrying about being back in this place, this home of broken dreams and might have beens. I haven't been to a movie by myself for such a long time and there's only one other person in the theater, no wonder because it's March and only

3:30 PM and I've just learned who wrote the book.

I didn't see that coming. Walking out into the light as always is a surprise - remember when we only went to movies at night? At least it's not hot, like the one time leaving the old theater on 4th Ave and 16th St in the middle of a summer afternoon, going to a movie during the day during the week because I was flying late at night and didn't have to be at work until about

4:30 PM and I've had no luck with getting food to take to the airport.

Seems they roll the streets up here at 4, at least that's when Nature's Deli closes. Remember the Block Party, selling beer to benefit the YFAA and enjoying the show, hundreds of friendly strangers on the Main Street Mall but they're all gone now because the city is tearing up the pedestrian mall to make it back into a street. The guy at the guitar shop last night said he thinks it's mighty suspicious how the city tore up the street right before the big winter season and drove all these businesses out just in time to snap up the land before they open the new Riverwalk and build the new conference center. No time to look for food somewhere else because I need to be at the airport by

5:30 PM and I've been at the airport for an hour.

I drop my car off when the girl on the phone said to but I still get charged the extra hour. That's B.S. Oh well, I figure I'll check my bag then go find a place other than the airport to hang out, maybe get some food, before my flight leaves. Of course there's nobody at the counter, and when she finally appears she has nothing good to say - the flight is delayed at least an hour and oh by the way once I check my bags I can't leave the airport - security, you know. So what am I going to do I'm hungry don't want to drag my bags around Yuma until

6:30 PM is still over an hour away but I better get some food.

I go to the airport cafeteria to find that the grill is closed and the only thing they have without meat is the grilled cheese sandwich, which of course she can't make. I sarcastically reply "of course, why would you be able to" and her look of reproach

stops...............

.........my..........

...............clock

I stagger away under the weight of my shame and the sudden awareness that I've thought this whole day has been about me and the things that were happening to me but

Of course I'm not the center of the universe, no matter how much little me wants it. The universe puts lots of pointers out there, little signposts that once in awhile I notice

Life is the Path, life is the Dharma, life is Practice. So get on with it.

The door to the tight little room where I keep my heart creaks open a bit wider and I go back to order the salad and fruit I saw in the cafeteria. She accepts my apology without words and brings me my food, which is good because I'll be hungry by the time this is published