Killing Time

Sitting in the Phoenix airport a few years ago, listening to The Clash, an old favorite band, and trying to make two hours somehow speed up.

It is 6:32 p.m., Gate 9 is packed, and our flight has been delayed.

“I’m all lost in this supermarket, I can no longer shop happily,” echos in my ears. Topper Headon’s drum beat keeps my foot moving, but my mind has raced past boredom.

A young lady leans against a pillar, searching for something on her cell phone. An older gentleman in a baseball cap reads a magazine, while a young family looks for the right gate. Like myself, a number of others have earphones plugged into their ears, and their phones or computers are stealing their attention.

After talking to an airline official, the young family finds four recently vacated seats.

Joe Strummer begins singing “Guns of Brixton” in my ears.

The last 10 days had been very relaxing. Lots of pool time, frozen yogurt, and daily Nerf wars, which I always seemed to lose. In fact, Karsten, my youngest grandson, got great enjoyment out of shooting me in the head time and time again.

He would hide on one side of the bed or in a neighboring bedroom and take aim. The first day, his aim was pretty wild, but by day 10, he was an expert sniper.

I gave him a hug, along with his older brother, about 45 minutes before. Now, I waited, and the time is still dragging.

The young lady is now looking almost as bored as I feel, the older gentleman is still reading, and the family is trying to keep the kids busy playing on mom and dad’s cell phones.

The Clash start playing “Death or Glory.”

The Grandview varsity cheerleaders stake out a small circle on the floor, waiting along with the rest of us.

We are now 55 minutes from our new scheduled departure time.

I wonder what might be waiting back home. The emails, the things I need to get to ASAP. Someone will surely be upset about something. Someone else will have praise, and someone else will want us to cover their event taking place tomorrow morning.

Ten days away from the newspaper is the longest I’ve been away. I actually love my job, and being away, though relaxing, has been tough.

A yummy smell captures my attention.

The family sitting just to the right went after pizza. It smells soooo good.

Turn the music up, focus in on the bass line, and try to block out the smell.
Maybe it’s time to look for some lunch?

No. We were going to wait until we land in Denver.

As hard as it is, we will “Stand By… ” our plan.

The clock continues to tick soooo slowly.

Finally, as The Clash began singing the last song on their London Calling album, boarding for Flight 2902 begins. It is our flight home.

The young family heads to the front of the line, the Grandview cheerleaders line up in front of the older gentleman, who had ditched his magazine. The young lady finds a seat and continues waiting for another flight.

Since I was trying to avoid Nerf bullets, we were late getting our boarding passes, which meant we were among the last to board, but we were boarding.

Now it would be a short, one-hour flight to Denver, and then the three-hour drive to Gering and home sweet home.

Looking back, I didn’t miss the wait in the airport, but I did and do miss the time with my family. It will be awhile before I see them, and I am already looking forward to that visit.