Enduring

This morning I am sitting in the Philadelphia airport at a Southwest Airlines boarding area. Folk’s faces here in the gate area reflect various expressions. None of us appear happy even though we are all eventually destined and ticketed for a really neat place-Denver. In fact, most of us look somewhat irritated or at best bored.
One gentleman is trying to calm what appears to be his aging mother. She has just come from a horrifying TSA screening experience and whatever he is saying to calm her doesn’t appear to be working. I can’t hear his reassuring words except the phrase, “Once we get to Denver.” That doesn’t seem to restore any color to her face and she remains in somewhat a state of shock.
Another older couple with dual canes is trying to understand what Burger King calls breakfast. Except for the coffee, it all appears puzzling alien to them.
About half of the folks fiddle incessantly with their cell phones or Blackberries. One lady with a pink laptop computer and Bose headphones is desperately trying to resurrect her I-Phone. It has an obviously cracked screen that I suspect is a symptom of a fatal condition. Her despair is obvious.
A young girl of about eight decided to break this monotony by playing with an obnoxious sounding popping toy. She is quickly shushed by her mother who nervously glances around to see if anyone is offended. None acknowledge her although most noticed.
Another gent appears to be exhausted. His head has fallen back and his mouth is gapping several inches. I can imagine the sound effects if I were a bit closer or endowed with better hearing.
One lady wearing heavy makeup, stiletto heels, a platinum coiffure, and tight designer jeans and who seems to think she is on a fashion runway sashays somewhere several times. No one seems to notice her performances.
As our boarding time approaches, most folks repeatedly check their watches or cell phones for the current time. We are not a happy bunch to say the least even though the flight appears to still be on time and Denver is still our destination. Reminds me of the time I took my daughter to overlook the Wild West casino gaming floor from an overlooking balcony to see if we could spot any happy faces. (We couldn’t.) No visible joy here, either.
I myself am nervously trying to figure out when to stop typing and prepare for the sprint to capture an exit row seat. To tell you the truth, the thoughts of jamming into a narrow seat with regular leg room makes me ache. Possibly enduring a cramped four and a half hours sends apprehension through me and makes it hard to concentrate. A friend has given detailed instructions on garnering upgrades with extra legroom but he doesn’t fly one class Southwest Airlines. What should be a happy liberating day for most of us obviously isn’t.
Then I spot a young lass of about four with auburn-colored shoulder length tresses and cute barrettes. She has new white sneakers and a gleaming plastic Barbie backpack. She can’t contain her excitement and radiates as she tugs on her mother’s hand. I am somewhat embarrassed to realize that even though we are all going to Denver, only she is relishing each moment on the way. The rest of us are at best enduring until we reach that “Mile High City.” Reminds me of something I read once about being led by a little child and I count this as a lesson learned. Thanks Miss- I got it.