It has been getting pretty damn cold here in Denver in the evenings, and so my sister Susan and I decided to head back down to our Stuart, Florida condo that we inherited from our parents, Nelson and Mary. Both of us really prefer to drive down to Florida, but unfortunately, that puts 4,000 miles roundtrip on my car, which adds up pretty quickly if you make the trip 3 times a year. Which means flying is the best way to get there. Oh joy! The last time we headed down to Florida, we had a layover in Baltimore, and instead of arriving on time at 8:50 P.M. we arrived at 1:05 in the morning. Thank God Jan, who was picking us up, was waiting for us in West Palm Beach at that ungodly hour and drove us from the airport to Stuart. Just another fun-filled airline adventure. And this time? God only knows. But it is time to think positive thoughts. And I do not want to criticize the airline industry. Not me. No way. My only comfort is that we will be arriving at Donald J. Trump International Airport. How proud every passenger must feel arriving at an airport with that hallowed name. Until he winds up in jail and the airport goes back to Palm Beach International. If only, if only.
No comments:
Post a Comment