Sunday, sadly, while we did get up a little earlier than we might have had there been nothing scheduled on the day, there was my flight. Unfortunately I couldn't get the ideal flight, which would leave Lansing airport around 9 pm and get me in to Newark before Midnight, since that doesn't exist; but the best I could get was leaving Detroit in the early afternoon and arriving home in the early evening.
I'm fairly sure that we actually stopped for a car wash on Saturday rather than Sunday, just because the timing seems to work better like that. But I do remember that the automated car wash offered a Laser Wash option, Laser in this case being used merely as a fancy selling name, and a way to disappoint anyone who fell into a hypersleep coma in the early 70s and was recently thawed out and looking for the wonders of the future world and trying to think of what a cool cleaning could be done with laser beams. At least the hypersleeper might be satisfied to know how many lasers the average person does own (I'm fairly sure I'm on the high side of a dozen myself), even if they would need to adjust to things like how mundane yet wonderful automated teller machines are.
Driving back took us again past the many sites of curious names, towns like Romulus and Novi and, just outside Sandusky County, the various towns that became failed General Motors lines. I know that it sounds like I keep filling in any gaps in my chronology with ``we talked'', but that is the simple and most wonderful thing that we did. Often it was about each other and how we feel and what we hope to do together. Sometimes it was less weighty and more accessible stuff, such as discussing which seasons of Star Trek: Enterprise disappointed us more (this is one of the few things we see all that differently), or her explaining the intricacies of the Columbo universe. One that we came back to repeatedly was wondering in the Doctor Who universe about the transmat, and particularly, what the Cockney Rhyming Slang for ``transmat'' would be. The best we came up with after a couple days of trying to reason that it would be something originally multisyllabic and must lose whatever aspect actually rhymed with anything, would be maybe ``cricket'', as in ``cricket bat'', and maybe we could have done a more convincing job had we not thought it out so much.
And there were even more accessible things, such as talking about the Kinks. I like them, but she's a serious fan, much better-versed in the entire Kinks lore than I am, and better able to talk intelligently about things like whether the Kinks or the Beatles better reflect working-class Britain of the early 60s. (She makes a good case, with citations from both canon, for the Kinks.) And yet in the context of mentioning a song for some minor purpose I happened to pick a song that she doesn't know so very well; apparently its original release was abnormal and she hadn't heard it so often. She also had apologized, unnecessarily, for having Pink Floyd CDs in her glove compartment. I haven't got any CDs in my glove compartment, but I do have a Ferrante and Teicher best-of set around here somewhere.
I'd seen the modern Detroit airport for the first time barely a week before, but was already familiar and sad to be back. We didn't run into the beggar again, but maybe it wasn't his shift. We had ended up getting there comfortably early, and were able to spend something like a half-hour, you might guess, talking, before we got late enough that I felt the need to go through security and find my gate. We watched each other as I went through security, though, and for as long as I was able, even if it meant walking backwards to catch a last glimpse. It wasn't enough time, but probably there couldn't be such a thing.
Flying home didn't really have any fascinating anecdotes, although leaving at the Detroit gate brought some strange confusion among people who were not really grasping the gate attendant's instructions about carry-on baggage, since again they had the extremely tiny overhead bins and many bags had to be gate-checked and picked up again in Chicago, mine with the bundle of clean laundry in it included. Although I was relatively late lining up I was able to get to the front of the line by simply knowing where I was supposed to be going and how to check this bag.
Whatever credit I might get for general awareness of my surroundings in Detroit was lost in Chicago where my efforts to walk efficiently from, I believe it was, Concourse F through to Concourse D were foiled by my not seeing the signs at one Y-intersection for the lower-lettered gates and walking about five minutes up the wrong direction. But I'd had roughly an hour of margin between flights, so this was just an unexpected bit of exercise instead of a real problem. Of course, it was with both my pieces of carry-on luggage, so it was weighed down some, but still, it was annoying only in that I really like it better when I do the right thing from the start.
Strangely the flight from Chicago to Newark took off on time, and even more strangely, it got in ahead of time. I could understand going to Detroit being early since my eager anticipation of seeing bunny_hugger would have had to drive it onward ever-faster, but getting back to home (a good thing, admittedly) and work? That's harder to figure out. I was early enough that even after sauntering around the secured area some (an extra bathroom break, mainly) I was able to meet my father arriving, and he worried briefly that he'd got my arrival time wrong. Nope; I just beat the arrival time.
And then was news about my mother's reunion, and why this would be important to me: while I was away, she logged in to my WiiFit account every day to record in the Activity Log that I was doing about twenty minutes of moderate exercise, keeping alive my streak of doing the Body Test or some Training or Activity every day which had started in early January. But when she went to the reunion, she stayed out all Saturday, and realized only on Sunday afternoon that she hadn't logged in and hadn't told my father to log me in, snapping my streak at just over six months.
Technically, I suppose that was fair since I didn't exercise in any organized fashion while I was away, but it did mean that for its ``You Haven't Missed A Day In ... '' count I was beginning from scratch. It was still a shame, though. I would have to find it within myself to be consoled with the discovery Monday morning that in just shy of ten days with bunny_hugger my weight had dropped 9.9 pounds, and I had left Obesity for being merely Overweight, and that I haven't been back above body mass index of 30.00 since. I could manage that, considering.
There would be two cute postscripts to the trip, one coming in the start of my car-shopping week.
Trivia: On presenting his telescope to the Venetian Senate, Galileo Galilei was rewarded with a permanent appointment at the University of Padua (and an increase in salary). Source: Measuring The Universe: The Historical Quest to Quantify Space, Kitty Ferguson.
Currently Reading: A Century of Subways: Celebrating 100 Years Of New York's Underground Railways, Brian J Cudahy.