Sunday, March 15, 2009

You Just Really Have To Laugh......The Sombars Go To DisneyWorld Part One

I'm no fan of flying, people. I've allowed this fear to come in and out of my life over the years, beginning in the winter of 1982 with the crash of Air Florida on the 14th Street Bridge in Washington, D.C. I can remember watching news of that disaster for hours on end, gripped by the rescue of the few survivors, from the icey Potomac River, but also struck with the idea that air travel can end in tragedy, and for someone deathly afraid of heights and falling- this is no joke. I was eleven years old then, and the images of that day have never dulled in my mind. I flew to Colorado with my mom, about six years later, to see my dear aunt who was dying of cancer- it was the day after Christmas and I can remember sitting on the tarmac as they de-iced the wings over and over again, adding to my already panic-stricken mind, a sense of gloom and doom. But as the years went on, and my wanderlust began, I flew many times, alone, to destinations all over the US, to see friends and family, with little fear- I actually began to love the take off and landings, and the times in between where I could relax, listen to mix tapes and read. Then I started having babies and we stopped taking major vacations for a while. So the fear crept back and I've had a few flights since where I have sobbed uncontrollably during times of turbulence, much to the dismay of my husband- who flies regularly with no hesitation.

This particular trip was easier on my mind due to the fact that it was planned and implemented by Tom so I had few days to think of the upcoming journey. But, as always, drama seems to follow us wherever we go... so our first eye-rolling experience came via a passenger, seated next to Liam, whom the entire cabin affectionately called Al Cohol. Al plopped himself in the aisle seat next to my eight-year old son and proceeded to grumble and mumble about having to sit with a kid, his mother, and baby brother, and wasn't that just his luck. Then he warmed up, with another drink (he'd admitted to having five prior to boarding), and had a grand old time educating Liam on the differences between Tanguerey and Beefeater Gin, as well as heavily recruiting him to join the Marines (all of which Liam took in stride, without so much as a blink in Mr. Al's direction). Now if only that were the end of the story for us.....

The major trauma of the vacation was Southwest Airline's slight screw-up of losing our luggage. Yep- friends, our whole family vacationed at DisneyWorld, to the tune of thousands of dollars, in the SAME OUTFITS DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY. And they still have no clue where our stuff is- a whole eight days later. Where do suitcases go, people? Do they wander around to different cities in search of a better time? Really- how hard can it be to take baggage, accurately labeled for its destination, throw it in the belly of the 747, and have it arrive safely in the proper airport? Apparently this is a feat I don't understand because as of Friday, as I was sobbing to customer relations about the stress I'd undertaken throughout my magical vacation, and all they could do was apologize and announce that they hadn't a clue as to what city our bags took off for or when and if we'd ever see them again.

My philosophical meanderings on this mess will come in another post- but suffice it to say that everytime one of Disney's employees ("cast members" as they are referred to on campus) would inform me that the Magical Express (Disney's bus company which escorts families to their resorts and is responsible for gathering all luggage from baggage claim and having it arrive in the respective hotel rooms within three hours) could not locate our posessions- then instruct me to "have a magical day" in the most sickeningly sweetest of voices, I felt like Chevy Chase in National Lampoon's Family Vacation- and pondered hauling my happy-slappy right over to the front desk and knocking someone's head in.

Now I am off to read some scripture where I will meditate on a more peaceful response to mishaps...

Good Night Dear Readers...I'm happy to be back


About Me

My photo
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States
Forty-three year-old, mother and staunch advocate of four young children, passionate warrior of truth and self, finding the soul in each day, sharing my struggles and triumphs as I live them. Mostly I do this for me, so my thoughts don't race as much at night as they used to. But I also give this to those of you who need to know, in any or every way, that you are not alone.

Follow Me Through My Daisies

On My Nightstand Tonight

  • Sarah's Key
  • The Bible (NIV)

FEEDJIT Live Traffic Feed

Powered by Blogger.

Blog Archive