Friday afternoon ramble

It's good to be home. I'd be happy staying put for a while (that sense usually lasts about three weeks, but still). It was good just disembarking at National; I could walk a whole two airport blocks without seeing an ad for something biblical. In fact, I almost got Jay a book of the 198 Most Inspirational Bible Quotes for Men, but decided against it. Jay, meanwhile--again, in true husband form--continues to give me fabulous items of clothing not appropriate to wear outside the house.

At one point in our now well-documented banter, I asked Jay if his other wives let him getting away with drinking sake in bed (incidentally, he spilled it--on my side of the bed, no less--and the duvet stunk of sake; we had to spray it with the green tea febreeze like thing in the room). He told me he had no other wives; I challenged him on that--I knew of a few. To which he replied that those were hags. I was nonplussed. He explained that you go out with hags--they're wingmen, they seek validation from gay men, etc. You don't travel, shop, carpool with hags; you travel with wives.

***
On the way back from Tokyo, I finished John Irving's "The Fourth Hand," which was a perfect airplane book (but pretty bad book, especially for the author of "The Cider House Rules.") It was all the more appropriate because it made me smile to read, within the book's pages, about a trip to Japan. Once I finished it, I started Michael Cunningham's "A Home at the End of the World," which is excellent, and also not without resonance to the Japan trip. Two of the key characters are not quite Jay and I--actually, not Jay and I at all, apart from the peculiarities that inevitably characterize the relationships between gay men and their wives: the coupleness that dwarfs that of actual couples, in particular.

***
I was on an 0730 flight out of Colorado Springs. What were the odds that I'd be sitting directly ahead of a screaming, kicking toddler?

Here's the thing: it wasn't that bad, because the parents were trying. They were not relegating their responsibility as parents just because they'd boarded a plane (or left the house).

In Dallas, there was a girl with a princessy rollerboard suitcase in the washroom across from the gate. I (internally) recoiled in horror, but she wasn't on my flight. That's the thing, though: they can inspire dread without actually doing anything.

As I exited the washroom, a vending machine caught my eye, and I approached it out of habit. I patronized more vending machines in a day or two in Japan than I have in the States in my entire life. They had KitKats, but not in green tea or sakura.

***
I talked to my mom before I left (well, between outbound flights). I'd told her I would be going, but she didn't remember and asked me what all the background noise was. Then she asked me why I hadn't sent the itinerary (because when I do, she says 'yeah but I can't be bothered to look at it') and asked me to send it when I got in. Then she said something like "another conference?!" I told her I hadn't traveled for a conference since I changed jobs over two years ago. She didn't understand--what was all the travel about? Really? Does my mother really think I conference hop (i.e. as opposed to doing work)? There is no way that either my colleague or I would have gone, much less been sent, on this trip unless it had been absolutely necessary. In any case, we're set for now. I know I'll be eager to travel again soon, but for now, it's all about home.