Thanksgiving travel

A couple decades ago when I was adorable and still nice, a small group of five other friends flew to Hawaii over Thanksgiving holiday. We flew United, I was sitting next to Bart, one of my favorite friends. Bart has crow's feet at the corners of his eyes even then, that young due to his face fixed in a permanent smile.



On the airplane there was some dispute about headsets costing a dollar extra, and the flight attendant wearing a button that read, "my service depends on your attitude." That disturbed members of our group who later called to complain, but Bart and I were oblivious to all that.

The movie displaying was something vapid about eight being enough. Something about a big family. Hardly worth watching, designed apparently to put passengers to sleep.

I hadn't used them before, and examining my headset to see if they are reused or what I discovered they are nothing more than two aquarium air tubes glued together then split one tube for each ear. After listening awhile I pulled out Bart's aquarium tubes from the armrest socket and whispered my own pretend movie dialogue directly into the input end. I wanted to interrupt Bart's movie watching and have his attention to myself. I thought I would vex him and he'd give up on listening, but instead he cracked up laughing at whatever nonsense I made up so I kept doing it to keep Bart laughing.

It's not so easy making up your own dialogue on the spot like that, and keep at it, sticking with a new story as the real story unfolds onscreen. It depends on what you see up there and you do not know what is coming up next, there is no way to plan for a coherent story, just make up something on the spot. But there was Bart holding his sides laughing. I was having a great time cracking up Bart. And only Bart. Nobody else could hear. A mere whisper goes directly into his ears at full volume. I had Bart all to myself.

Then Bart pulled my earplug from its armrest socket and delivered his own take on the movie directly into my ears and that is just flat funny. It's completely unexpected, utterly unpredictable. I have no idea where he is going. He's insane. I died laughing, his little story sharply contrasting my own. He didn't even add to my story, just contradicted it completely. As if from another planet. I laughed so hard I lost track my story. It is incredibly difficult to keep it up. It is unlike translating, the split brain thing is complete.  I struggled to pick up my story and persist with my own perversion of the film while he was thinking of his own story to me, perfectly idiotic, interfering with each other's thought process but not enough to stop each other, we did the same abuse to each other's ears. It  was the most hilarious thing I ever experienced on an airplane. But now our unhindered laughter was becoming infectious by laughter alone, nobody around us knew what was so funny. Other passengers were turning around in their seats wondering what in the heck is so funny. They realized we were goofing on each other's headsets and a man ahead of us in another aisle called back to a friend in our group, "Tell them to speak up so we can hear too."

Now that's funny.

Upon landing yet another friend who lives in Aspen met us at the airport and presented two of us he was expecting with leis. I did not realize leis are so heavy. I always imagined them light as feathers, as silk flower leis are, but not so, whatever flowers they use, orchids, plumerias frangipanis or some such, strung packed tightly together like that must weigh a few pounds. And they're absurd.

On Waikiki beach, so, Oahu, not the main island, the very first hour walking along we encountered other people we knew well from Denver. But we had no idea they were traveling. This does happen quite a lot, it seems we all traveled to the same places. In Mexico too, I would always see people I know from Denver. There is no escaping them. We'd hook up for dinner or for drinks. Then another, who knew of others coincidentally traveling and another and in an instant, within an hour, our party group doubled.

There was a small bar there in Honolulu near the beach at the time tended by an elderly distracted lesbian. She drank a lot while she worked. The bar offered a free drink for every call drink within a time frame and the woman kept track by placing a toy wobbly character. Perfect for drunks. You can push them and they do not fall down. That was the catchphrase in the toy's advertisements.  The woman took a shine to me, for I was adorable and still nice at the time. I never could hold liquor, it's a thing with me, the woman kept getting confused with her wobbllies until I had a whole row of wobblies representing drinks far beyond my drinking abilities. She liked me.

"What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Nothing. No plans for that. Probably a restaurant."

"What?
No.
No. No. No.
I'm not having it.
You're coming here."

She loved me. She liked my friends too. But the entire extended group was not present. We told her there are more of us, we mentioned the rest of the extended group. The bartender/owner said that she loves to cook but has no family in Hawaii. She insisted we consider coming back to the bar for Thanksgiving. She'd open the place just for us. We would have the whole place. Open a room in the back to accommodate the whole lot. She looked forward to preparing our holiday dinner. She said it would be a wonderful thing for her. An offer we could not refuse.

She drank while she cooked but that did not interfere with her preparing an extraordinary dinner for some fifteen people. The table was stretched and covered with white tablecloths with a veritable forest of crystal preset, water glasses, two sets of wine glasses and nontraditional untypical holiday decorations. Goodness, she was busy. Mixed chairs. She brought out her own family silver serviceware. She laid out an impressive table. Lastingly impressive. She presented a wonderful memorable dinner through courses. I will never forget this wonderful woman and the gift that she gave us that year. Oddly, she insisted, no, the gift was ourselves to her. She walked around the table positively glowing, then stopped at my chair, pressed my cheeks in her hands and kissed me right on the mouth.

My mouth was full of pie at the moment of her exuberant outburst.  She nearly squeezed it all out before I could swallow. We stood up and toasted her. She wept sincere tears. Our own eyes turned to water. We were all deeply moved.

A great winter storm hit early that year just like this year. The storm disabled travel overtaking western states. Still in Honolulu we heard on the news of devastation for travelers back on the mainland. What a bummer. It cast a pall over our return trip causing concern for our return. Here's the thing about commercial air travel that I did not know at the time. When your flight is cancelled, that's it. You're out. If you are half way there, too bad. Your flight is cancelled but airlines cannot interfere with later flights to compensate for your loss. There is no jogging reservations. There is no shuffling around first come first served. The airlines otherwise stick to commitments, as it must. In that manner, due to that policy, we overtook members of our extended group who left Hawaii a day or two earlier than we did. We actually passed them at the mainland airports. Saw them and spoke with them as we boarded they were still waiting, still struggling to find a connecting flight back while we went merrily along. Awkward. We left later but arrived home earlier unabused. But what can you do to be fair? Nothing.