While I was in Vegas, my friend Robert called. Cell phones are great - we talked for a few minutes before he relized I was not sitting in my office. He's heading out west on Sunday morning for a week of skiing. Before he was a balloonist, and a private pilot, and a dad, and had a real job, he was a ski bum. In fact, I think he got into ballooning in the first place because it seemed like a job that would not interfere with skiing. Now he sneaks in ski junkets every other year or so, when he can get away.
He asked if I would mind giving him a ride up to the airport, if his other options fell through. Not a problem - it might shuffle my Sunday morning yoga plans a bit, but no biggie. I like doing favors for friends.
Afterwards, I got to thinking. I have rarely asked for (or gotten) a ride to the airport. I drive myself, put my car in storage. I can think of maybe 2 instances in the past decade where I got rides. Just not my style.
And, coming out of security at airports, I often see folks waiting for passengers - friends, relatives, parents, kids, loved ones. Sometimes there is a sign, sometimes flowers or a balloon. Often I pass by a small huddle of hugs and laughing as a reunion takes place right there. Nobody has ever met me at the airport. Never. I've met plenty of people: friends, sig others, ex's, clients. But I've never walked out of an airport to find someone standing there, expectantly scanning the tired passengers and busy travels, waiting just for me.
Not sure what it all means. I guess I am the rugged independent sort, John Wayne with a yoga bag and mess of curls. Maybe I'm just too afraid of needing other people. Maybe I just don't let people in.
A long time ago, in a different life, I once quipped to a acquaintance on the cusp of becoming something more "I don't dance unless I am drunk, or in love". Some time later, as we danced at some wedding or other function, I was asked "Are you drunk?". Thinking it might be an inquiry into my ability to drive, I insisted, no, I was sober. Only later did I realize that I was, indeed, in love.
That was a long time ago. Dancing is not a big deal anymore: with friends, lovers, by myself or with strangers. I dance drunk or sober. I dance at the drop of a hat. But meet me at the airport sometime - and I'm all yours.....