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Way Too Good To Be True

As you’ll recall, I am in the middle of my story about going to New Mexico for a couple of days this July. We figured, frankly, that it was going to be no fun at all. As in zip. Nada. None.


That’s because, as you’ll also remember, the reason for our going was sad. We were on our way to attend the memorial service of one of Martha’s friends from our old church, Shirley, who passed on shortly before. So we figured we’d be depressed the whole way there and back.



Here is a photo of Martha from one of our trips to the Albuquerque Museum near Old Town. It actually dates from 2018, when we still lived in the city, but I love the photo, particularly given that she stands in front of a striking metal sculpture outside the Museum.


And also, well, let’s face it. Air travel these days isn’t exactly Jet Settin’. It’s mostly Jet *Sitting* on the dang ground in the heat while you’re waiting for an exhausted, overworked, underpaid crew to stagger on board for one more dang flight to nowhere while airport infrastructure, the air traffic controller system, and general national sanity all decline into (not so) quiet desperation.


Where was I? Oh, yes, So we figured it was going to be awful, particularly since all the arrangements had been made at, almost literally, the last minute. So, we were mentally prepared for the absolute worst. And, with gritted teeth and clinched fists, we headed to the airport..


And then...


We got to Austin International, parked quickly and easily because of there were lots of empty spaces (hello? That’s odd), headed inside, and...


It. Was. Pretty. Quiet. Actually.


There was a crowd, but it was small and controllable. There were lines, but they were pretty short. We went through the metal detectors at TSA and there were no beeps, no buzzes, no oh-my-God-I-left-the-bag-behind moments...nothing.


Wait. What?


Clearly, we figured we were being set up for a fall. Only a matter of time. The Sh1tty Tr1p Gods were going to leap out of the woodwork and whack us at any moment. There would be someone at the gate trying to bring on their emotional support Rhino. (“His name’s fluffy.”) Or someone would have a grand piano as a carry on. (“See, if we just turn it sideways and tip it a little.”)


We walked cautiously to our gate. But...everyone was quiet and polite. The plane was ready. The flight attendants and crew boarded. Then we did. There were no problems getting our luggage stowed. A few minutes later we were in the air.


Again...huh?


Okay, we just _knew_ something awful was about to happen. There’ be a freak Sharknado storm over West Texas and we and 30,000 enraged hammerheads would be diverted to Lesser Winnetonka in East Dakota for six weeks. The guy in the window seat next to us would be a missionary from the Holy Rabid Reformed Cult of St. Dimbo the Braindead and would lecture us from wheels up to wheels down on how Dinosaur fossils had been planted by the Bavarian Illuminati to deceive the faithful.


But, again, no...the weather was fine. The guy next to us watched a superhero movie on his phone for the whole flight and was quiet as a mouse.


And then we were at Albuquerque. We landed with nary a bounce on the asphalt and there we were. In the city.


We stepped outside the (rather lovely, believe it or not) Albuquerque airport and discovered ourselves on the sidewalk. It was ...OMG...actually cool and pleasant. After 60+ days of triple digit heat in Texas, we were back in the Rocky Mountains, and the weather was...amazing. We learned from the locals that they thought it was actually unseasonably warm. But from our point of view...it was delightful.


After a moment’s hesitation, we boarded a shuttle bus and headed out to pick up our rental car. But we were still on edge. Surely, we thought, retribution was coming. It was only a matter of time before the scales of injustice were balanced and we got well and truly zapped. It is what happens to us when we travel. It is inevitable. Monday comes before Tuesday. And when we travel, disaster strikes.


Well, you know how I’m always writing about omens and portents? And how there is something looming on the horizon about to pounce on us?


Guess what.


This time, it isn’t happening.


More to come.





Here are two shots from the interior of the Albuquerque International Airport, a.k.a., the Sunport. Yes, it was that empty the day we arrived, and yes, it is rather beautiful.


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Care to help out?


I provide these blog postings for free. That’s fine and I’m happy to do so. But, long ago and far away, I was told that if you give away your material, that means you don’t really think it has any value.


So, to get beyond that, I’ve decided to make it possible for you to leave me a “tip” for my posts.


If you like what I write or the videos I produce, and feel you could make a small contribution to support my efforts, please go here:


https://michaeljaytucker.gumroad.com/l/lzumj


That will take you to a Gumroad page where you’ll have the option of leaving me a few pence by way of encouragement.


Again, I don’t mind if you don’t. I just want to provide you with the option so that I won’t feel quite so much like I’m just tossing my works into the wind.


Either way, thanks hugely for dropping by the blog :-)


~mjt



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#StampOutEnnui #MichaelJayTucker #MarthaTucker #MarthaAndMichaelChronicles #StompEnnuiLikeItWasABug #explosive_cargo #Xcargo #NewMexico #Travel #TravelBlog

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