Barb is flying to New Orleans today, for some training. Some background is in order to make sense of what follows.
A couple years ago Barb went to Manhattan, Kansas to bid on some property. Why is unimportant. Manhattan is a small college town, much like Ashland. But bigger, with midwestern values.
She was befriended, literally within a day, by the city attorney, influential folk in government positions, local business owners, and the matron of the most influential family in town. This families name is sprinkled liberally across buildings on the Kansas State University campus. Long story short, all fell over themselves to help Barb feel at home. Helped nudge her along to be successful during the property bidding process. Asked her to join them during breakfast, lunch and dinner. Took drives together to see the area and hear the history. Showed her how to get to properties she wanted to view. Brought her to the county fair that weekend, through the participants gate. Made her feel like an insider, because they liked her. We travel all the time together and stuff like that doesn't happen. Only when Barb travels alone.
So I'm stewing today as Barb flies to New Orleans. Me, enduring 37 degree weather while Barb wings her way to 77 degree warmth. I really want to see New Orleans. Really, really want to. Have never been there. But decided not to go because money is tight. Decided against going despite the fact I crave visiting a warm, humid place during winter. It's the only environment where I can breath like you do. Normally. I have, shall we say, active sinuses. But Barb's MS doesn't like heat and humidity. Our once a winter sojourn to heat is my seven day winter respite. Barb gets the other 51 weeks where she is comfortable. I'm fine with that schedule.
Barb is also visiting our daughter and nephew in Missoula soon. Yep. Snowy, cold Montana. Where 25 degree days are considered warm this time of year. Nasty on my sinuses. Barb decided she could find the money for me to go, too. Only, I didn't want to go. I'll happily visit family in Montana during the warm months, but in winter? Somebody had better be dying. I'd rather go to New Orleans. A new place never seen, where I can breathe normally. Last I knew, I would skip both trips. Have lots to do, anyway.
How do the stories of Manhattan and Missoula relate? Well, for one, Barb is going to "my" warm place. Without me. My one respite week, gone. A bitter pill to swallow. Especially since it turns out we did have enough money to chose one or the other if we wanted to spend it. I was inclined not to.
But then comes the phone call from Barb in LA, where she is changing planes. On the flight down to LA her seat mate was our investment advisor and friend, Chad. A great guy. What are the odds of that happening on a random flight out of Medford?
What about the LA to New Orleans flight Barb is on at this very moment? Turns out her seat mates are Camryn Manheim and Darryl Hanna (of TV and movie fame). Flying coach, I might add.
When Barb and I fly together, it's rare to even see someone we know, much less have them sitting nearby. But when Barb flies alone....
Does the gal have the Midas touch?