Adventures in Life: Far Removed

Newborn Penguin with his father 1967

Things don't always feel real when one is far away. It seems as a flight attendant, that is a common thread in life. We miss parties, celebrations, holidays, events and time, flying the world far from home.

The funny thing, and by funny I mean odd, is while flying a trip to Canada, I began talking with my flying partner on the jumpseat. You've probably heard of jumpseat therapy. In case you've not, there is a phenomenon amongst flight attendants seated on the jumpseat. We tend to open up and say things to a complete stranger that we would never say to others. It's an unspoken bond between flight attendants.

My stories are peppered with jumpseat therapy. I've opened up about my illnesses, fights with friends, dating troubles and life woes. I hardly ever discuss my father, other than the fact that we haven't spoken in over twelve years. I'm almost always asked why, and mostly, I launch into a short version about how he drank too much and would make promises that he would never remember making the next day. He was a very hard man to get along with and used money as a carrot to encourage me to do this and that for him. He was very selfish and despotic. He was a pain in my life that was quite vexing...he was also my father.

Gary and Penguin

Not wanting to bore people with the details, I was always quick to answer and move the dialogue along to the next topic. But for some reason, on this trip to Canada, I really opened up and discussed many of the stressful aspects that my relationship with Gary had endured.

Gary bought the Harley-Davidson dealership I ran in Annapolis, making me an officer of the company. After 4 years he sold it, with me staying on as GM, being a part of the sale. I didn't realize this until after the fact, or I might have demanded a huge salary! But things were better when Gary left and after one year, I was able to increase profits 30% and retain customers better than we had in years. I loved that I was able to prove that my way of running that business was successful, and that in return led to him receiving more money from the sale of the business. I was very proud. Gary was quite silent.

Gary, Memaw and Penguin in the Harley dealership c1998

One of the broken promises that led to our estrangement was that he was going to pay me a sum of money annually. That gave way to a broken promise of assistance in buying a home or going to flight school. That gave way to promises of money from my grandmother when she passed, to another promise of an annual bonus and next thing I knew it had been ten years that he and I never spoke and not a one of his promises came to fruition.

For me, it was easier to remove him from my life than to deal with the broken promises, the rhetoric of how I cannot communicate, and the way he always made me feel small and foolish. My life was better off without the drunken calls one night and the follow up with few details remembered the next.

Gary and Penguin

He never understood me. For years he would offer me hard candy and ask if I'd like a soda, and for years I would tell him I don't eat hard candy nor do I drink soda. For him, I am sure it was a matter of being polite and offering me something he enjoyed. To me it was a man who never learned my likes and dislikes and didn't seem to care. Gary had his own way of doing things, including a language that drove me insane. Instead of wearing sunglasses, he wore sunners. He ran a sweeper instead of vacuuming the carpet. He never saw a movie, he only saw flicks. If I sneezed, he would say only, “Bless,” to which I eventually would answer a simple, “Thank.”

He reached out to me 2 years ago, just after Christmas. We wrote back and forth a few times and he continued with his lies and statements of me taking things out of context. I told him that I was not interested in a relationship that was still toxic. After a few harsh letters back and forth, there was nothing more.

Baby Penguin and his proud parents

Then, I got a call from a cousin I don't hear from very often at 9:45PM, and I knew something was wrong. I had just landed from this trip to Canada when I got his message, so I waited until I got home to call him back. His words were soft and I had a hard time comprehending them. When he told me that my father had passed away, I asked, “MY father?” It seemed such a silly question.

The phone calls that follow a death in the family are not something I'm used to. I remember when my Uncle passed and how the phone rang all day. People brought casseroles and flowers to my aunt. My father was more of a stranger to me. I don't know what his life was about or what his interests were. I had changed so much since we last spoke, I was certain he had, as well. So in a way, it was only as if a friend of the family had passed. I was sad and my family and I cried over the phone, but I didn't feel like I had lost my father.

When my mother went through a cancer scare this past year, I was beside myself thinking of her mortality and how my life would change were she to be removed from it. But I never gave my father's mortality a passing thought. I knew he'd live to be 95 just to spite me! There was still plenty of time for him to soften and even though it appeared to be only about money, I wanted the pain of how he treated me to be a thing of the past. Well, it is now.

I answered the calls all day and shed mutual tears during many of them. I had some great laughs, too. My father was a difficult, stubborn, selfish man, but he was also smart, funny, outgoing and often times just as goofy as I am. There are many great memories of my father mixed in with the pain.

A teenager Penguin with his angst meter off the charts in '85.

It doesn't feel real yet; I have lost my father, but I lost him 12 years ago, really. For the past 12 years there was always hope that he would come through, or would say he was sorry for the way he treated me, or that we could start fresh with an adult friendship of two men growing older and laughing at more jokes, singing the wrong words to our favorite songs, and disagreeing over politics along the way.

A terminal illness took hold of him two years ago...perhaps the very reason he reached out to me. However, Gary chose to keep this fact not only from me, but from the family, as well. The shock over his death brought about by his own hands to ease his pain and suffering was as much mine as everyone's. And maybe I'm not as far removed or estranged as I thought, if out of the blue I suddenly have an in-depth jumpseat therapy session about him as he lay dying a slow and painful death. We were either more connected than I ever suspected, or he came to visit me in some spiritual way to have me open up on the jumpseat at the very time his life was ending. Eerie.

A rare photo of my step father, dad and me in Maryland '97.

Where I used to see his image and frown, now I go searching for old photos and smile. My friend, Shawn, says that is because I know he won't hurt me any longer. He and I were alike in many ways. And in many ways I pray we are very different. But he was my father and he taught me many great things in life. He was proud of me, in his own ways. He took from me the chance to make amends or to hear an apology, but he left the world what I hope is a good man of strong convictions; a son of moral fiber, and a caring friend to many.

Surely the memories of the hard times I had with you will begin to fade and leave only the good memories; the laughs, the tickles, the times we watched Carol Burnett, Pink Panther cartoons and Bob Newhart, making breakfast on Sundays to classical music and the way you always expected me to be a good man. I love you, Dad.

Passenger of the Day: Falling from the Sky

It felt like summer when I left my house in Houston. I don't like it when it feels like summer in the middle of February, but that's what I get for living in Houston. I was happy to be off to Calgary, a little taste of winter for my 20 hours in the land of Canada. In the real summer, I escape to South America for their winter. Snow birds leave the cold of the northern part of America and head south. I'm Penguin. I enjoy going north for the cold. For just a bit, any way.

Penguin free-falling

The first thing I noticed about the tall young man walking down the aisle was that he was wearing shorts. He was in his twenties, handsome round face under what could have been a military hair cut, those little athletic socks that are barely visible inside his sports shoes and a nice gray sweater. As I said hello to him, he stopped and asked me about first class. He noticed there were a few open seats and had hoped to get an upgrade. I had a strong suspicion that he was not high enough up on that list to get one of the open seats. I reminded him that we were still boarding (in fact, we were still quite early in the boarding process) and that the agent would come upgrade anyone who was already seated in the back. For good measure, I asked where he was seated, just in case (wink, wink).

As it turned out, he was seated in the very last row. I always hate to see the taller ones getting seats in the last row. The seats don't recline much and in the back of the plane there are a few inches less between the seats than in the front of the plane which makes it tough on long legs, and one thing you don't want is to have a pushy flight attendant driving home the fact that the aisle space is ours and the seat space is yours, 'so stay out of our space!' It happens. Were there open seats, I'd consider asking if he'd like to upgrade.

I used one of my favorite lines when hearing that someone is in the last row, “If you were any further back we'd have to put you to work!” He laughed and thanked me for all the information on first class and sulked to the rear of the plane.

Later, he wondered how long I had been flying. I answered and asked if he was interested in working for the airlines. He informed me that he used to be a customer service agent for a Canadian airline and that he still had a few friends who were flight attendants. We struck up a conversation and I got a thrill from hearing that he had sponsors for his skydiving!

Suiting up with my instructor

“Oh, I LOVE to skydive. Well, it's been about 16 years since I've done so, but I've done it a couple of times and it was one of the greatest thrills of my life,” I told him.

I'll never forget the experience. I had driven out to Delaware with a customer friend from the Harley-Davidson dealership I managed. After a quick class, we took off in an airplane and leveled off around 9,000 feet. People often tell me they would never jump out of a perfectly good airplane. I respond with, “You didn't see the airplane from which I jumped!” It was a perfectly fine plane, but it was older, stripped of any seats and had seen many flights. Most people would have been leery to take off in that plane.

As we climbed, the instructor got ready and directed me to stoop in front of him. He connected our harnesses and together we scooted to the door. When it opened, I was just a few inches from the edge. I looked down at the ground. A sudden thought came to mind...there is nothing between me and the ground but 9,000 feet of air. I should be terrified, but I wasn't. There was very little time to obsess over the situation. I felt the tap on my right shoulder; the one that meant it was time to leave the airplane.

I tumbled out and we rolled a few times. I went into the free fall position I had been instructed to go into; legs spread with my soles to the sky, arms out and elbows at 90 degrees like I was being arrested, back arched, head down. Down we went. I was in love. I had expected to feel much like one does when on a roller coaster and the stomach drops. There was none of that. It was just a roll out of the plane and a feeling of weightlessness. Save the intense rush of air that flapped the skin on my face like a flag, there was no sensation of falling. I was flying!

All too soon, I received the second tap and the parachute opened up above us. Now there was silence as we gracefully floated towards the airport from which we had alighted just a few minutes prior. My instructor was a humorous man with white hair and he made a few jokes and then informed me that one of his 'things' was to serenade his students. He sang a song that thankfully only lasted a few seconds. For the most part, he just let me enjoy the fall, with the ruffling of the nylon chute over head. I...was...in...heaven!

Landing was simple and disappointing, that my time in the air was over. I loved the fall; so much so that I repeated the experience a few months later in Maryland from 11,000 feet. This instructor let me pull the chord to release the chute, which is supposedly a big deal.

Happy Penguin after my skydive adventure

My new friend in the last row going to Canada introduced himself to me; Eric. He showed me a video on his phone of a jump he had made with a few friends. It was a great video and showed them floating through clouds on their way to the ground, grabbing the feet of the their friends, and falling feet first instead of stomach first. Eric eventually wants to train for BASE jumping and will soon begin training for a flight suit. If only I were I young again!

For me, the chance to go skydiving was one of the greatest thrills I have enjoyed in life. There is nothing to compare with falling free and then floating under canopy. If you ever get the chance, don't miss out.

As the passengers began to gather their belongings and enter the Calgary terminal, my flying partner asked me if it was cold outside. “Well, judging from Eric's shorts, I'd say no.” He looked over and laughed and told me his girlfriend would be waiting outside with the car warmed up for him. Good thing, as a blast of cold air hit as we left the airport and I was happy to have my warm clothes...and my memories of falling from he sky.

Passenger of the Day: Shaken and Stirred

Sunset clouds

Every now and then you'll get a great pilot who likes to come out of his cave...er...cockpit and actually interact with passengers. They do have a lot to do up there before a flight; check lists, write ups, fuel sheets, weights and balance figures, the walk around, a quick call to the wife and or girlfriend. This flight had the type of captain who came into the cabin at the end of the boarding process with information on the weather at our destination and in flight. He mentioned an area of storms that we'd be passing on our way to the East Coast. I could see 3E's face tighten. Another example of the captain meaning well and having to make me come in afterwards and smooth ruffed up feathers.

When he was done with his presentation, he returned to the switches and knobs of the cockpit and I began to pick up pre-departure cups from my passengers in first class. When I got the 3^rd row, Nervous Flyer stopped me.

The woman in 3E was sharply dressed and very pleasant. She wore a tan outfit with sparkly jewelry, including a corded necklace ending with an elaborate-looking tassel. She smiled often and used pleasantries any time we spoke.

“The captain said it might be a bit bumpy in flight?” she asked sheepishly.

“There is a chance we may have a few bumps. I'm sure it won't be bad. Do you not like bumps?” I asked.

“No, I'm what they call a nervous flyer.”

“My mother was a nervous flyer when I started this job. She's great with flying now. I told her how much safer she was in the air than on the ground. The most dangerous part of the trip was the drive home!”

“I've heard that,” she said.

I continued, “I actually love turbulence.” She made a face. “I know, I'm one of those...” She laughed, but still appeared a bit nervous.

I went on to explain a little about turbulence and what causes it. I told her to imagine a pot of boiling water. The air can be much like that pot of boiling water, with bubbles of air rising and falling in the atmosphere. When the plane encounters these rising bubbles of air you get turbulence.

She greatly appreciated the visual and said she felt much better, but she'd be keeping an eye on me.

“Don't tell me,” I interrupted, “you keep an eye on the flight attendant knowing that if they are calm, everything is OK, but if they look concerned, you should be as well.”

“Yeah,” she said.

There is nothing to fear.

“My mom told me that when I first started flying!” It's something I've always remembered. To this day, if I hear a noise from the plane that is out of the ordinary, or I get a call on the interphone from the pilots about weather ahead, I act nonchalant and calm; smile on my face. Even if they're only

calling for a lavatory break, people in the cabin don't know why I'm on the phone. For all they know, there's a fire in the cargo hold, a wheel just fell off, or we are serving only fruit cake.

As if often the case, the pilot's reports were not entirely accurate and the flight ensued with very few bumps at all. It's almost disappointing when we get notified of reports of turbulence coming up and then nothing happens. Passengers get up and we advise them, “Please take a seat, the captain has told us that we are expecting turbulence and we want you to be safe.” Then nothing happens and the seat belt sign gets turned off and I look like a liar. Happens all the time. I call the flight deck, “Hey, can't you make it bounce for just a bit?”

Night flying

Yeah, I like turbulence. I like to feel the plane fly. But, I have hurt my knee when a jolt threw me to the floor. One of the most fun episodes was when I was trapped in the rear of a 747 coming home from Sydney. Fortunately, there were a lot of open seats, so when the plane began to dance through the air during our meal service, I was able to park the dinner cart and take a seat. The plane bounced so much that meals began to fall out the other end of the cart and onto the floor. All I could do was sit there and listen to the clatter.

People have died in turbulence, shooting out of their seats and hitting their head on the ceiling. It can be very dangerous and sudden. So when you are asked to do so, for your safety, and the safety of those around you, please, return to your seat and fasten your seat belt. And keep the over head bins closed. Thank you.

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View to a Thrill: Lima Layovers

Gato on the street in Lima

A friend was reading my short stories and noticed that I go to Lima a lot. I like long layovers and the 25 hours we get to spend there is fun, and I enjoy the 6 hour trip from Houston. He asked if I could write some helpful tips, and I was only happy to do so.

First, there is the hotel. I stay in a lot of Marriott hotels with my job, which is interesting, because in the 90s, I worked hotel security at a Marriott in Dallas. But the JW Marriott in Lima's Miraflores district is one of the finer hotels in the system. It offers commanding views of the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The lobby is above street level and has nice marble floors and walls, a modern water fountain and grand chandelier. The staff are all smiles and very accommodating. When checking in, there is often either flavored water or teas sitting out. Be careful of the coca tea, I hear it will show positive in certain drug tests!

Dessert in the Marriott Rewards Lounge

The room levels are secured with a keyed entry in the elevators. If you're lucky enough to be a Marriott Rewards member with access, the lounge on the 24^th floor is quite deluxe. They serve fantastic food; an elaborate breakfast with waffles, hot cakes, meats, breads, cereals, eggs...I could keep going. Lunch is often easy foods, such as quesadillas, pizza and salads. In the evening you can find ribs, burger bites, and local chicken dishes with rice and usually a tasty soup. For dessert, don't miss several of the small dishes, enjoy a cookie or some South American chocolates.

The rooms all have ocean views and are generous in size. The bathrooms have a stand up shower with a separate tub. You'll find all the amenities; nail file, sewing kit, cotton balls and swabs, nice-smelling shampoos and lotion and even bath salts. Each room has a small refrigerator, with ample room for storing a few of your own items. The coffee maker is a bit confusing to use, but I don't drink coffee; follow the instructions and you should be fine.

They offer a great dry cleaning service and they also have complimentary shoe shining. Don't forget, even though it's complimentary, tips are greatly appreciated in Peru.

An old car seen on my exploration

If you know me, you know I occasionally enjoy an adult beverage...or two. One of my favorite bars the world over is located in the casino that adjoins the JW Marriott- Casino Majestic. I mention this all the time and people always ask why I say it's my favorite bar. For one, the bartender now knows me and for the first time in my life I can walk in, say hi, and ask for my usual. He knows I drink pisco sours and that I will ask for the complimentary snacks, including tasty sandwiches. Also of note, the casino is a great place to exchange US cash for Peruvian pesos.

If shopping is your thing, you can never go wrong in asking a flight attendant where to do so! Since Lima was new to me this year, I have followed a few flight attendants around in hopes of a good deal. Of course, right across the street from the hotel is a very interesting shopping mall, Larcomar. Why interesting? From the street, one would never know there was a shopping mall, as it's built into the cliff, below street level. Just a few yards across the park from the JW, towards the ocean, down some stairs and you will be confronted with many the up scale shops you'd find in any North American city. 

Colorful Peru

On the north end of the mall, on the lower level, is even a grocery store. You won't find all the nitty gritty, but it's a decent sized store with liquor, staples and even fresh food and a few seats to enjoy dining while looking out over the ocean. The larger store's a little further away, so if you're in a bind for time, this one will do the trick.

Other dining choices in the mall range from standards, such as TGI Friday's, Pardo's Chicken and Tony Roma's, to fast bites, such as KFC, Pizza hut and local burger fast food, all in a small food court. Other than Pardo's, who has great chicken, I usually skip the mall and find a nice quiet restaurant a few blocks away. Make sure you have time, Peruvians are not known for fast lunch service. Plan on a slow, leisurely meal and let them know when you're ready for the bill.

An Inka Market in Lima

The JW is at the end of Avenue Jose Larco in Mira Flores. Walk up this street to find all you could want on a Lima stay over within about a mile or so. For shopping, you will want to explore the various Inca and Indian Markets, which are located just north of Ave Jose Pardo on Ave Pettit Thouars. From the hotel, it's a 1.1 mile walk, or an inexpensive cab ride. The markets are full of local wares, including scarves, sweaters, gloves, hats and more made from Alpaca wool, which is very soft. Many of the women I have shopped with enjoy looking at jewelry. The markets are a great source for holiday gifts, as well.

Many crew members love going to the grocery store. There is a great store with fresh food, a liquor department and any necessary staples just west of the intersection of Ave Jose Larco and Calle Schell, which is an easy .7 mile walk. Some of my more interesting finds in the Metro Supermarket, which I've written about previously, is the chocolate milk in plastic bags, and chocolate Besos de Mosa, in yellow boxes...marshmallow covered in chocolate on a thin cookie. If you like churros, on the corner of Jose Larco and Schell is a nice cafe with local desserts.

I love walking the streets of Lima

For another culinary find, walk down Calle Schell to Diagonal and head north. Across from Parque Kenedy is Calle de las Pizzas. You can't miss it, it's an alleyway lined with restaurant after restaurant. Each one seems to have the same basic menu: pizza, pasta and seafood. Outside each you'll most likely find friendly but almost pushy hawkers trying to convince you to dine with them. We found one that promised a free pisco sour, so ask around!

Seafood lunch on Calle de las Pizzas

And finally, I give to you a find that I happened upon by chance after dining on seafood on Calle de las Pizzas...The Chocolate Museum! ChocoMuseo is located at Calle Berlin 375. It's an out of the way, lazy little street, just 2 blocks from pizza row. Here you'll find everything chocolate, from soap, to teas, to candy bars. There are displays on how chocolate is grown and produced. Buy a tee shirt and chocolate liquor to take home or have a seat in the outdoor area and sample fruit-dipped chocolate fondue! 

Lining up for fondue at the chocolate museum

Lima has so much to offer and no matter how you travel, whether on the cheap or going it first class, you will be happy. The people, mostly Incan descendants, are friendly, short in stature and colorful. It's a fun city to explore. It's easy to walk, but do be careful of crossing the street, pedestrians don't necessarily have the right of way. In the 6 or 7 trips I've had there in the past year, I've been able to explore a lot of Mira Flores. My next few trips, I hope to explore more the culture and history of what is the third largest city in the Americas. I can't wait! 

Sunset behind an island in the Atlantic

View to a Thrill: Rainy Days and Mondays (I Always get Around)

Exploring a very wet Rhode Island town

The wettest layover I ever had was in Providence, RI. That is, it used to be. As is the case for Pasadena, CA, I'd never been to Providence and I wasn't going to let a little rain spoil the chance for me to get out and see it.

The good traveler that I am, I have my handy compact umbrella in my bag. It's a magical umbrella...if it looks like rain and I take it, the dark clouds will mock me and hold their juice. If it looks like rain and I leave it in my hotel room, the skies open overhead. The only time it isn't magic, is when it already raining; the perfect test of whether or not I'll actually venture out.

A rainy day in Hong Kong

Wet tracks in Frankfurt, Germany

When I was in Brussels for the first time, I spent my first morning exploring in a light drizzle. I was recently caught without my umbrella in a wondrous thunderstorm while exploring Ft. Lauderdale, taking refuge under the carport of an apartment complex. Chicago, London, Denver, Narita, Frankfurt; rain, quite damp, gully washer, ame, regen mit donner!

A storm hits Ft. Lauderdale

In the case of Providence, it was sprinkling out, so the umbrella came with me, of course. This was near the start of my artistic photography experiments, so I enjoyed exploring new places, taking photos that interested me. I like textures and angles, and found some great things to shoot.

Textures on a wet street in Rhode Island

It was when I got about as far away as I had hoped to venture and started heading back towards my hotel that the skies truly opened up. Never mind, I was not going to let it spoil my adventure. I wandered through a neighborhood under a small umbrella with camera in hand. When I got back to my room, my pants were soaked up to the knees. My shoes were as submarines just surfacing from a long sea voyage. My socks were literally to be wrung out and laid to dry.

US flags in the rain

And here is a tip for helping speed the drying process on clothes...bring out the ironing board and run the iron over them. The shoes you just have to pack in the plastic bag that normally hangs in the closet. Or, if there is an air conditioner under the drapes (and if they don't stink) you can use the hangers with the clips to hang the pants on the drapes and have the air blow on them for a while.

Using a hangar to dry out pants.

And then there was my time in historic Pasadena, California, home to the famous Rose Parade on New Year's Day. How many times I've seen the wondrous floats clad with beauties waving from among legumes, flowers and seeds adorning elaborate parade floats. There I was, just a few days into the new year, with the bleachers and stands still in place waiting to be disassembled, admiring the architecture and quaint shops. In the rain I ventured out, with umbrella in hand. I'd never been to Pasadena, and who knows if or when I'll find myself back again. After all, I've yet to return to Providence.

Wet street in Pasadena

In Rhode Island

I don't care what day it is or how wet it may be. I got this job to see the world and that's why I travel with my umbrella. I want to get out and explore. Doesn't matter if it's a rainy day or a Monday, I won't let it get it me down. Out and about I must go!













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