Feast Day of St. Cassian Patron Saint of teachers
But I’m not sure what the point is that I’m trying to teach. Or be taught. Other than I need to make sure I have the right ticket in hand when I go the airport. That much I do know. Or that maybe I should write down my new post office box number in a place where I won’t forget it.
When I packed up for the El Paso trip, I had a sneaking suspicion that I’d left one of my pocketknives in the suitcase someplace. Last Saturday morning, in my haste, I completely forgot about that knife. I had, earlier, looked for it, and I had been unable to find it, buried in there with batteries and empty cassettes, flyers, business cards, batteries, power adaptors, extension cords, all that crap I carry when I work.
Sunday morning, as I was throwing everything back in the bag, waiting on a ride to the truck stop, I found that knife. Understand that I was frantic, and breathing easy because when I approached the metal detector at the security gate, I knew that I had an ankle chain, a very thin chain around my neck, and no other metal on me whatsoever. And I knew that my computer bag had just that, a computer and not much else. Plus, I knew that my suitcase had just show stuff and a change of clothes. I breezed right through, and walked onto the plane with the right coupon, with at least three or four minutes to spare.
I remember talking to some other passengers who were complaining about being searched a second time, “How do they pick the folks for the second search? Is it really arbitrary?”
I allowed as how I had one observation, the folks who gave the counter staff any lip or bad attitude always seemed to be searched a second time. Be nice. Being nice takes a lot less effort than being mean. Usually works for me.
Worked, by accident, on Saturday morning. I suppose that’s my good karma from always trying to be early.
So Monday afternoon, I was standing in the downtown postal annex, trying to figure out which P.O. box was mine. I knew the four digits, I just couldn’t remember the proper order. I knew there was a 4, 5, 1, & 6, but I couldn’t remember the correct order. I tried several boxes until I finally did hit the right combination. I wasn’t expecting anything in it, I mean, I’ve had this new box number for all of about a week now. But Monday was one of those days when my butt was dragging in the dirt, and I figured I’d better try the new box, just to see if I could remember its number. From downtown, I swung on home via Barton Creek. Ran into a [non-redhead> Capricorn on the trail. Exchanged gossip. Got wet with creek water. Came home to meet another Capricorn and Libra. Busy day, considering I wasn’t doing anything.
If that patron saint is going to teach me anything, I hope I remember what my new box number is. I had some other point to make, but I forgot what it was.
Kramer Wetzel
P.O.Box 684516
Austin, TX 78768-4516
