Sunday found me sitting on the tarmac at DFW airport waiting for an open gate so our plane could taxi up and belch us out. I was returning from one of those reoccurring, taking-care-of-family-stuff-trips and was just a smidge worried about my upcoming newspaper deadline, my yearbook pages still unsent, my purchase orders still undone, and the topic of my blog post still undecided.
Jeez Louise, no wonder I stay so stressed.
I don’t know why I worried so. I should have learned by now that airports, airplanes, and air travel in general provides as much fodder as a classroom filled with teenagers (although I find the teenage kind more amusing and their behavior more acceptable).
I was squished into the middle seat way, way in the back of a very, very full plane when the woman next to me whipped out her cell phone and started gushing to someone about a fabulous book she’d been reading.
“Blah, blah, blah, we’re the director, producer of our own lives…blah, blah, blah… we shouldn’t take things personally…blah…blah…blah…If someone points a gun to your head, don’t take it personally…”
I almost fell out of my seat (since I had illegally unbuckled my belt).
“Are you kidding me!” I almost screamed. “You better start taking things personally if someone has a friggin’ gun to your head! Are you a big, fat…” (No, I didn’t say any of it, although the bubble above my head was in overdrive.)
I realize I’m probably the only person on the planet who hadn’t heard of the little book she was talking about, Four Agreements, until then. I guess I missed that episode of Oprah, but Holy Moley Crack Fire, don’t ya think there are some things out there that one should just, well, I don’t know, take personally? You know, things like guns pointing at your head? (I don’t care if it was a metaphor. And, yes, I’m sure there’s probably much more to it than this little snippet.)
Article comments
1 - Tan The Man
You said it. But that's why God invented noise-cancelling headphones, right?