A trip to visit the in-laws: joy of joys. The missus' mom planned
a week long adventure up at serene wilderness resort, nothing else around for
fifty miles. To add to your predicament, her parents insisted that they
personally pickup the happy wife and you, the shuddering husband from the air
port. No rental car, no escape. Help!
The cabbie pulls up to the curb, unloads the suitcases, and you
walk to the enter gate, boarding passes in hand. All carry-ons go through a
tedious inspection from an uncaring TSA worker, who just rifles through all of
your belongings. then all board the plane. You make your way to your seat. All
of these adventure plans came as a gift from dear mother in law dying to see your
beautiful wife. Sadly the well intentioned parents booked last minute. The only
seats remaining, one in first class, and one in the back of coach. The
chivalrous gentleman you are of course took the economy class.
You wonder who is the lucky duck who has the pleasure of sitting
next to the one and only. The young couple with a baby screaming? The fifty
year old still living in his prime years of the 1970's? The grandma with the
knitting needles? At least that one would be easy. "Oh, no! Please not him!"
A winner in tattered old tweed blazer, and food splattered blue and white
oxford shirt enters the scene. A real bubble gut. To top it off, cat hair
covers his Levi's. Slowly, but surly, he passes back one row at a time. With
his seat coming dangerously close to yours, you look up only to see the broken
reading lamp and the no smoking sign. Finally he throws his carry-on over the
shared luggage rack and sits down right next to you.
Turbines fire, and destination heck on earth commences. An
extroverted card is he, within fifteen minutes you know all the tedious details
of his life story. Oh, the places he's lived! His glorious career as a
traveling circus carny who married to the bearded lady. Apparently she was a
catch! Most importantly, he is a PC. "No one got time for Mac!"
"You would never guess that looking at me now," he claims. You think
differently.
"Oh gawsh, help," as he continues in his rumblings you
can't help but notice his teeth. They lay perfectly aligned, he had been very
blessed in that sense. If only he cared for his endowment with good dentition.
Gnarly craters of black decay cover his not so pearly whites. Sea foam white
plaque covers his enflamed gum line. A greenish fog floats gracefully from his
oral cavity into your nostrils. All of a sudden, lunch starts to make its way
back up your esophagus. Managing just a little coming up to the top, you manage
to swallow it back down.
Luckily on top of the carry on bag, the trusty Filson satchel
accompanied you on this now perilous trek. To only find the sleeping pills,
they only last four hours; might need to take two. Efforts of frantic searching
and prayer end in dismay. The relief lies in the checked bag conveniently
stored in the baggage compartment under the plane. "Ugh!"
The iPad battery dies after twenty minutes of Angry Birds and
boggle. Sky Mall only holds the your interest for about 5 minutes. The man
across the row bestows a gift of sympathy to you seeing your predicament. He
presents you with latest edition of TIME. "Thank you!"
You flip to find the main article that all your colleagues raved
about, only to realize that the magazine reads differently than expected. This
magazine is the Spanish edition. "Please let this plane land!" Your
thoughts are answered with five minutes of turbulence. The "bubble
gut," barley manages to get the contents of his stomach into the barf bag.
The air bags drop down from the overhead compartment. Instead of breaths of
panic, fresh air fills your lungs after your ordeal of three hours of almost
unbearable body odor and rancid breath reeking from your counterpart.
The plane starts it's decent, "hallelujah!" Tires hit
the runway and people hurriedly take their carry-ons. Suitcase and Filson in
hand, you hop onto the exit runway. "Free at last!" The missus meets
you by the exit gate. There stand dear mother and father in-law. You greet them
in an unusually friendly attitude and hop in the car. You thank them for their
gift of a week long excursion out in the woods and chat the whole way there.
The missus whispers "you are actually excited to go? What brought the
change of heart?" "The guy next to me on the plane. He made me
realize what a blessing all of you are. Thank you all for having good
hygiene."
What's the difference between book smarts and street smarts? Read, enjoy, and share with friends.
Book Smarts v. Street Smarts: Knowing Versus Developing a Personal Relationship With Jesus Christ
Papers piled high, books up to the ceiling. Welcome to the domain
of the typical scholar (that's right baby)! Calculus, theory, chemistry,
language arts, and art history. All the scholastic education one gains, mold a
well cultured and rounded individual. Endless knowledge and wisdom await one in
opening a book. Books are proof that humans can create magic. Writing takes us
to foreign lands, across dangerous ocean waters, and can paint a utopia in our
imaginations. 
