Al Roker and the kindness of (kind of) strangers

So, by a weird quirk in my internet, instead of clicking on the link I wanted to follow, my computer decided to go to some of my old blog entries (on myspace).

And I found one of the crowd favorites:

03 Jan 06 Tuesday

3:36 AM - Pre Gastric Bypass Al Roker Current mood: savage Category: Travel and Places So, just in case this thing is off--it is currently 3:36 a.m. on Tuesday, January 3rd, 2006. I have to be at work at 8 a.m. on Tuesday, January 3rd, 2006. Why aren't I in bed so as to be fresh and ready to go to work tomorrow? Well, thanks for asking. I went to Maine for New Year's again. It was terrific. I left Jen's house at noon today. NOON. I get to the airport in Portland and have to wait 53 minutes just to check in. Thankfully the line for security isn't too bad. There's a group picture with Jen, Emlet and myself (tradition!) and off I go. I go through security with my very, extra-special shoe box "package" and the guy goes "oh, new shoes?" and he opens the box. His face then loses all expression, he replaces the top of the box, avoids eye contact and sends the "package" through the x-ray scan with no further comment. I will tell of the contents of my one-of-a-kind "package" to anyone who asks--I just don't think it proper to post it here. I will tell you that it's a work of art entitled "Dusty Candle" by my good friend the artist Emlet. On with the story...I'll skip the inane details of the next several hours. We were delayed getting to DC and then my 5 pm flight was delayed until 8 pm because of bad weather in Atlanta. 8 pm comes. I board the plane. I sit down in 31 D. That's the aisle seat. I used to think I preferred aisle seats because of the small possibility of more leg room. I've decided that I'm a window-girl now. I sit with an empty window seat beside me for a while. A guy sits in the window seat in front of me. He's by himself. We wait. We wait, we wait. Soon the flight attendant comes and asks him for his ticket. He's supposed to be in the window seat next to me. But the flight attendant then says to the man behind her, "Oh, sir, that's fine--you guys can just trade." So I stand and here starts the tragedy. Now I realize that I'm not a small person. I take up a lot of space, I get it. Thanks. But next to me was the largest man I've ever seen on a piece of aircraft. He was the spitting image of Al Roker, pre-gastric bypass surgery. Fine. I have nothing against fat people. I do, however, have something against fat people that have no consideration for others. This man sits down in his window seat. His legs are spread as if he's sitting down for a nice movie on the couch at home. He then lifts the arm rest that's supposed to separate our respective personal spaces. I try to sit down. I can't fit. Honestly. I could not fit. The flight attendant gives me a "sucks for you look." I get very fiesty at this look---shouldn't she be concerned for our safety? Apparently I am wrong in this assumption. I then stand, recompose myself and try again. This time I'm in the seat sideways. It's as if I were lying down on my side, one arm pinned beneath me--but instead of lying down, I'm sitting in an airplane seat. I fumble to buckle myself in. I barely succeed. Al Roker has a cold and a stomach condition that causes him to cough, wheeze and often grab his mid-section and moan "Oh, my stomach." He smells like a barn. A very neglected barn. I end up not caring how this appears to others and I cover my face with my hands being sure to breathe through three shirts as a filter. So I'm stuck in this crevice sideways with my hands covering my face and I try to lean as far out into the aisle as possible because seriously--I don't even like this much of me touching someone when we're dating---so I'm especially revolted by our forced touching. I then get hit by the saucy Latin flight attendant and her rear-end as she saunters by. I get hit by the refreshments cart. I get hit by everyone who walks by to go to the bathroom. One lady was complaining of not feeling well--she then has to stop right next to me to compose herself on her way to the bathroom. She apparently was having some gastrointestinal issues. Through my three-layer breathing guard I was assaulted with the repugnant odor of kielbasa and sauerkraut. Awesome. We land. I unfold myself from the two-hour hell I'd been imprisoned in. I get up as soon as the captain so kindly told us we could. I grabbed my backpack, my "package" and hope to the good Lord I can leave quickly. As I start to take a step, I realize my whole left side is asleep. I stumble and fall upon the guy in front of me, the one was supposed to be my seat mate. I don't even apologize. I don't care that I fell upon him, causing his nose to hit the overhead compartment. I don't care that blood went everywhere. I just don't care. I just lunged past him and the people that were trying to help him. I trip getting out of the plane. My "package" falls open and a piece of the art falls out. There's several old people there waiting for wheelchairs. I hear them gasp. Instead of me picking up my fallen item, I just jeer and start running up the ramp. I don't care. I then fight through the crowds, through a sea of bootcamp military runts, through several I'm sure heartfelt family reunions. I push people out of the way on the escalator. I need air. Children are holding onto their mothers legs in fear of me; I'm on a rampage. I need to get out of here. I push through another crowd, pinning a woman with her carry-on dog into the wall. She then whines, "Hey, Anna, what the mo do you think you're doing?!?!?!" I turn briefly to see my coworker, TDSGG glaring at me. Her husband is pissed. He starts to run after me. I dodge him, dart around the military group that has just stopped in the middle of the freaking atrium to do pushups. I get by just as Her Husband gets stopped by a drill sergeant asking why he thinks he's too good to be respectful of our fine military that is currently fighting for our freedom. I shriek with laughter as I run toward baggage claim. I am then met with a sea of people. Delta has 10 baggage claim carousels. 10 big ones. They each have 8 or more flights listed on the screen. That's 8 flights full of people all waiting on their luggage. I fight, bite, slap and push my way to the carousel. I wait for 2 hours in that one spot. My bag is not there. I wait another hour in the Baggage Information line. Once I'm like 10 feet from the counter, the Delta lady hands me a form and is like, "Oh, honey, you didn't have to wait this long if this is your final destination. Just take this form home with you and you can do this all over the internet." It was clear I wasn't getting my luggage that night. I went outside. Waited for my park-and-ride. I got to my car. I came home. And here I am, sweaty, bloody from that no-good seat-switching nose-bleeder, wide awake and looking around. I don't have any clothes to wear to work. AND I DON'T CARE.

and then there was this really nice, poignant one that I totally had forgotten about:

01 Mar 06 Wednesday

9:04 AM - wow, I think this thing is really working out...
Current mood: ponderingly thankful
Category: ponderingly thankful Religion and Philosophy

...this thing referencing living by faith and not by sight.

so I've been praying for my friend Jonathan for a while now...his dad's been really sick and he's had some other concerns that are concerns of mine too. well, I got a call yesterday afternoon from Jonathan saying that his dad passed away on Monday. it's really a time of celebration because his dad has been sick all of Jonathan's life on an oxygen machine and just not able to really care for himself...now he's able to run and dance and breath freely and we can all take comfort in that.

needless to say that I didn't get much done at work after Jonathan's phone call...I was calling everyone in my phone book and then scouring online for some kind of travel arrangements and man oh man, last minute plane tickets are expensive. so I was talking to my coworkers and they were offering up all kinds of advice and my boss even found a $64 one-way last minute fare to Dulles--which is 40 minutes away from where I need to be in PA and then she offered up her much-traveled husband's free rental car vouchers. then my new coworker JS (whom I've known a total of barely 2 months) made an offer than bowled me over. like with one of those shiny orange glow-in-the-dark bowling balls that weighs 25 pounds.

I know he's a believer--we've spoken of it before...but from nowhere did I expect this.

well, I came in this morning after deciding that Michelle and I would drive up Friday morning so we could make it to the viewing, funeral and following luncheon (is it wrong to say that I heart funeral luncheons? probably? yeah, you're probably right). well, I sat down at my chair and was going about working (unlike what I'm doing now) and I look up and there's a check on my desk. JS had just walked by, put it down and gone about his merry copy-editing ways. He and his wife wrote a lovely 3-digit check and I don't even know them. I told him that we're driving and not flying and so the costs shouldn't be that bad anymore and he was like "no, use it for gas or whatever."

I've known this guy for 2 months, but just because we have a shared faith, he and his (lovely) wife have sacrificed a precious commodity just to help me--his coworker that generally is probably too loud for his tastes--just to make sure I could make it to this funeral.

simply amazing.

so here we come stanley, phyllis, jonathan, kent, david and lil. we're going to be with your family all because my coworker gave of himself for something and someone he knows little about.

so absent is my humor that I only get, absent is my world-weariness and absent is my general cynicism. in its place is awe. and thankfulness. and I'm here to tell you that if you place your trust in Him, things aren't always going to be peachy and keen and good---but you'll always be provided for.

----
That generous coworker no longer works here and I don't know where he went--but that memory just brightened my day. Thanks JS. Oh, and double thanks for introducing my to Okkervil River.


And Mandi brought me to tears this afternoon. Here's an excerpt from her blog:
i received a phone call the other day from a dear friend who'd run across a publication put out by leading edge communications - where i freelanced for a few weeks back in october. the design office was really small and tight-knit. three designers, including myself and the senior art director, suzanne. suzanne was less than 5 years older than me, married and expecting her first child. my freelancing was a trial run training to take her place when she went on maternity leave in march. we are now nearing may 1 and i haven't heard from suzanne since january. the phone call i received explained why. suzanne passed away while giving birth to her new daughter, matilda ruby. i was shocked.

editor's note to self:
so i need to make some changes because life is so short. so unpredictable. and nothing is holding us back from going after the things we want in life. yes, it's scary. yes, it's unsure. but there's only one shot... so what the hell are you waiting for. go confidently in the direction of your dreams, live the life you've always imagined.

--I've let the fear and unsure days of our economy shape my decisions as of late. Perhaps I need to go back to the drawing board and really see where I'm supposed to be.