Dear George,
Katja and I are just back from a memorable family visit in New Orleans. We hadn’t been on an airplane since before the the pandemic began, so it was more eventful than usual. I think our traveling skills have gotten rusty since we had a rocky journey. We left for the airport about 30 minutes later than I’d planned, and I was annoyed to find that the daily charge for long-term parking had increased from $7 to $11. We took the shuttle bus to the airport terminal and got in the TSA security line. I’d printed out our boarding passes at home so I gave Katja hers. The line was pretty long, and, when we’d gotten about halfway through, I suggested that we get our driver’s licenses out. Much to her consternation, Katja couldn’t find hers. She looked through her purse, her wallet, and her pockets. It was baffling because she had checked in the car to make sure she had it. I looked through her purse and wallet too, but with no luck. Deciding that she must have left it in the car, we got out of the security line and began to head back to the shuttle bus — a perilous choice since we didn’t have surplus time. However, an airport employee was standing nearby, and I explained our dilemma to him. He said that we could get through security with credit cards or similar I.D. with Katja’s name on it and advised us to go back into the line.
The security line was a bit longer the second time around. When we got halfway through I suggested that we get out our boarding passes. Katja looked in her purse, but she couldn’t find her boarding pass there, and it wasn’t in her pockets either. I looked in her purse too. No luck. This was crazy — she had just had the boarding pass in her hand ten minutes before. We knew that they could print out boarding passes at the ticket counter for a $5 fee, so I suggested that Katja go back there while I stayed in the line. She said she would call me on her cell phone when she got the new boarding pass.
Going through the security check I failed to take my cell phone out of my pocket and set off the alarm bells, so the guy had to give me a full-body putdown. Then I got confused and left my carry-on bag on the conveyor belt until a TSA lady pointed out that the purple bag was mine. At first I thought it wasn’t but the tag had my name on it. In the meantime I hadn’t heard from Katja, and I was getting worried about the time. It was a long walk to our departure gate, the very last one in the terminal. I explained to the airline representative at the check-in counter that my wife had had to go back and get a new boarding pass and that I was worried about her getting back in time. He said that the airplane door would close in exactly twenty minutes and there were no exceptions. If she didn’t make it back by then, we would have to reschedule. Their next flight to New Orleans was in three days.
I got more anxious by the minute, but Katja did finally make it with seven minutes to spare. All the other patrons had boarded at least fifteen minutes earlier. We breathed a sigh of relief and took our seats. Katja said she had intended to call me, but she hadn’t been able to find her cell phone. Apparently she had left it in the car. A few minutes later she opened up the paperback book she had brought along to read. Much to our surprise, there was the original boarding pass that she’d lost.
Our New Orleans visit was thoroughly enjoyable and proceeded without incident. We worried a bit about our return flight since Katja still lacked a photo I.D. However, since they’d accepted other forms of I.D. in Cincinnati, it seemed sensible that they’d do the same in New Orleans. That wasn’t exactly true. We went through the security line in the New Orleans airport, and Katja explained to the TSA official that she had left her driver’s license in our car in Cincinnati and only had other forms of I.D. She gave the man her Medicare card, her covid vaccination card, her American Express card, and her Macy’s credit card. The man, however, said these weren’t adequate because none of them listed her home address. Katja carries dozens of cards in her purse. She started going through them, and the TSA official started looking through her wallet too. None of the cards had a home address. Then, suddenly, the TSA man said, “Well, here’s a surprise.” He held up Katja’s driver’s license which he’d found in one of the deeper pockets of her wallet. Problem solved.
Our 8:37 p.m.flight to Cincinnati was delayed 45 minutes for unknown reasons. Then, once we boarded the plane, we sat on the ground for another two hours, waiting for a worker to replace a filter in the rear lavatory sink. We arrived in Cincinnati about 3 a.m. I had some trouble with the automated checkout system at the long-term parking lot, but a human voice eventually came on an intercom and guided us through it. A thirty minute drive to home. We slept till noon the next day. Our air travel had its ups and downs, but I have nothing but happy memories of being in New Orleans.
Love,
Dave
