Ah Philthy Delphia

I left my my new friend to catch her connecting flight into the depths of Jersey, and I followed the rest of the herd to the baggage area. I had no problems what so ever getting my pack which was easy to spot being as it was wrapped in a black contractor trash bag. When I checked the bag in Denver, the fine people at US airways informed me that they couldn't check my pack with the sleeping bag hanging on the outside. "Just bag it" I said. I had done this before and so there fore assumed the common practice for anyone traveling with a pack is to place it in a clear plastic bag and mark it with airline packing tape. "we don't carry any plastic bags sir" the attendant said as if I was crazy for even suggesting it. Immediately I peeled off my hippie suit and allowed my inner Jersey the chance to shine. "that's ridiculous, I've done this a thousand times"(or once), "This is unexceptionable!" I've found It's important when dealing with airline folk to act like you know something they don't. Every day corperate flight policies change in order to scam a buck and I have come to the conclusion that most people in the check in department don't have a clue what the hell is going on day to day. Before she could retort I noticed a massive trash can behind her. "Just take a trash bag out of that can behind you" I demanded as if I was doing her a favor by coming up with the solution. She did as I suggested and instantly I recoiled my jersey and returned to my normal self.
Aware that my victory in Denver could have back fired into my pack being sent to China, I was pumped to see it flop out of the magical baggage hole unsaved. I tore off the trash bag and made my way outside to wait for my friend keanne to pick me up. I'm convinced that Keanne is one of the best humans I have ever met, and on top of it she never misses an opportunity to come get me from the airport and house me when I'm in Philly. With out fail she arrived just on time equipped with a mini cooler filled with snacks and beers. Ah Philthy delphia! One of the advantages of living in the nations number 1 murder capitol is that drinking a beer in the passenger seat is really not high on the police priority list. And so beer in hand staring at the city skyline I worked on getting comfortable with feeling free.

Back in PA

Well, day two in eastern PA and I am officially traveling. On the flight from Denver I sat next to a woman from Estes Park who turned out to be a wonderful person. It's always awkward to me that first few moments your sitting next to someone on the plane. I never know whether to give my new travel companion space or to just jump right in to introducing myself. My natural tendency would be to strike up some small talk, but then comes the fear of being "That Guy". You know the one. The character in every airplane movie scene that tortures there seat mate with their over bearing friendliness and incessant chatter. All of a sudden I see my self as Dell Griffith from "Trains,Planes,and Automobiles", and instead of saying anything I retreat to awkward smiles and peruse sweating. Lucky for me this time I came prepared with a book which is a trustee tool in the battle against social anxiety.
Still I couldn't help myself and as soon as we took to the air I began blurting out random attempts to engage my seat mate into conversation. Being a kind person she accepted my clumsy and obvious cry for attention and by the end of the flight we're having a great discussion. After going on and on about myself and my trip and my life I caught my self rambling and tried to switch my focus to finding out about her. I learned that she is a happy wife and a mother of two, and that we have mutual friends in Estes, go figure. Turns out she is on her way to New Jersey to visit an old friend who has only a month to live due to a bout with Cancer. I admired her for being so brave and candid about such a difficult topic and tried to offer some solice in the form of insight and humor. In my experience death has been like a forest fire or a volcanic eruption. At first the destruction they cause is devastating and traumatic, but over time, from the ash comes an abundance of life that thrives off the environment that the destruction has caused. To me it helps to recognize life imitating life in this way, it takes away some of the uncertainty and helps me to find a sort of balance and purpose to it all. It seems, the more death a person experiences the greater opportunity they have of experiencing the depth and wonder of life.
When the flight was coming to and end, in an effort to leave her on a positive note, I told her about all the human kindness I had encountered in the few days before my trip. It was true, in the four days prior to leaving Boulder, i had been thrown four going away parties, and had been gifted over $600. Some came from friends, some from family, some from coworkers, some from total strangers inspired by my trip. It was truly humbling to receive in such a way, and I wanted to share my appreciation with her in that moment. She responded by saying that it was funny that I had mentioned it because she had been planning on giving me some money when we got off the plane. I was embarrassed by the idea that me sharing my gratitude might have made her feel obligated and so i told her. She assured me that it was not the case and I decided to take her word for it. When we got off the plane we said goodbye and she handed me some money, later that night I realized it was $60. Again I felt embarrassed, but I reminded myself that learning to receive with grace and humility was an important part of being able to truly give, just as death was an important part of being able to live.