Non-Rev, Standby Memories

I used to do a lot of flying around. I was in the airport at least twice a month (double that for the return flights). I got to know the Tampa and Chicago airports so well that I got a “welcome home” from the guy in the Chicago Potbelly’s once. I was so thrilled to be a “regular” at the airport that I didn’t stop to correct his geographical error.

I used to say I was looking forward to the monotony of having one toothbrush that stayed in one place all the time. I guess back then I felt like I was always wrapping up a wet toothbrush to go somewhere… or forgetting it entirely, which forced me to buy the $5 version when I got where ever I was going. But now that I am home every night, my toothbrush misses traveling. It misses the excitement of potentially getting left behind in Tucson or stranded in Paris. It misses that the water actually tastes different out west. Okay, and I will be honest… It’s not just my toothbrush that misses it. It feels so good to be sitting on the ground again, plugged into the wall, eating a cold and slightly stale turkey sandwich, and praying they will call my name to clear me from the non-rev list.

I’m headed to see my sister and her girlfriend in Nashville. I’ve never spent any appreciable time in Nashville, so I’m thrilled. Not just to see the city at Christmas time but to see those sweet girls too.

Well… if they clear my name, that is.