The last leg of our summer road trip was to Manhattan, but our flight out of Bangor was canceled due to weather. There were no more confirmed seats available for another week, so we re-booked for the next day out of Portland.
Steve and Charlie made it out on the 11am flight. Sam and I were booked on the 11:40, but it was delayed so we headed to the waterfront and while we were monkeying around our fight took off, as scheduled! We got back to the airport to find a group of angry, confused people standing at the gate. The best were a mother and daughter from Kennebunkport, prepped out from head to toe, complete with monogrammed carry-on. The daughter yelled, “This is bullshit!” I guess even Muffy can be brought to crude behavior. The monitors still read, “Flight Delayed to 12:45”. Someone’s ass is grass.
I was told that the best they could offer me was a cab ride to Boston and a late night flight to New York City. I asked to be on the next flight out of there, on any connection, to get me home to Ithaca. The “most senior person” at the airport said there wasn’t anything available for days. I pulled out my computer and as I was booting up, I looked him straight in the eye and said, “I hope you are right. I hate to think what will happen if I find two seats out of this airport today.” It didn’t get me seats but he did look a little scared.
After sizing up the scene, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands. I got a refund for my U.S. Airways tickets and went over to the rental cars. There were lines at every counter with signs that read, “No cars available”. Sam can’t read but he can sense emotions. As I marched up to the National desk, he put his hand on mine and said, “Now, Mom, don’t get angry!” I went straight to the bald guy who looked intelligent and within 10 minutes, we had a car, nav system and full tank of gas. I know what the “override” button is for!
The best part of the whole experience was that Sam and I had a really great day driving back (8 hours). He did not complain once and was like a little bird, chirping and singing away in the backseat. It was sunny, we stopped for a leisurely lunch, saw lots of spectacular scenery—New England churches, harbor towns, farms and bikers! I was surprised at the number of motorcyclists without helmets. In California I call them “organ donors” but here I see people who are literal examples of the New Hampshire state motto, “Live free or die”. Words to live by.
Sam, my hero, on his "ship"
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