Somewhere in the Middle: Part 1

So, this probably does not make a lot of sense in terms of a preliminary post. A lot of people, (and I say, 'A lot,' to be generous to myself and my expectations), will probably come to this piece of writing fully expecting to see me either layout my fall from grace due to gambling, a behemoth of debt and my own lacking view of my self worth, while everybody has the faintest idea what the hell I am talking about. Well, we will get to that somewhere in the future, but I thought it best to not start there, as that is not the sole purpose for me starting to write again, but only a match tossed into a pit of gasoline and dead grass of catharsis and ambition that I hope to explore through one of the few skills I believe myself to possess: writing.

And yes, there will be a lot of writing as I have fallen far behind on many music reviews, musical passion articles, quite a few works of fiction that I want to flesh, maybe some bad poetry and of course, life experiences and stories, much like the one you are about to read, that I want to explore:

Once upon a time, there was a rising star of a self help guru who had published books that could be found in Target, had a popular documentary that was trending on Amazon Prime and was holding these large seminars across the country to help other women find confidence and strength. My wife, R, was tuned into her through a group of friends, and began to check out some of these books and podcasts this guru was producing as R has always been fascinated by ways to potentially improve her personal growth.

Not to long after this began, the guru started producing a new podcast series along with her husband to add the context of a couple's dialogue to the mix. My wife showed these podcasts to me and we began to listen to a few of them together, discuss our thoughts on them and generally enjoy this new activity. When it was announced that there would be a couple's themed seminar in Austin, Texas to be hosted by the Guru and her husband, we thought it sounded like a fun excuse to take a vacation to a place we had never been and connect with others from around the country. However, the most interesting moment of this trip end up happening before we set foot in Austin and is as follows..

The night we were to leave for Austin, seemed to have been setup pretty well. I was at home with the kids, doing last minute packing and preparing the house for the arrival of my Mom to take over parental duties. R was working a 12 hour shift and came home at about 8pm. I had ordered a pizza for us to have a hasty dinner before heading to the Airport where we would catch a red eye flight that would land us in Austin one day before the conference.

Well, the dinner part happened and making it to our flight also worked out, but about 40 or so minutes into the flight, I woke up from dozing and felt a familiar burning from stomach to my throat that was announcing the return of that damn pizza. 'Bag! Bag! Bag!' I started shouting anxiously at R, who had also been in a light sleep, so before she had a chance to register what I was implying with this frantic plea....

I.Exploded.

I managed to cover the shirt I was wearing, most of the shorts I had on and probably numerous other areas I did not notice. Miraculously, the dude on my right suffered no friendly fire and even slept through this whole ordeal. R would later confess to me that she had vomited too, but had managed to bag it before it was too late, but a lady across the aisle was not so lucky with her sympathy puke.

Next came my greatest moment, as for the first time in my life, I found myself seated in the first row right behind first class with the only bathroom available to me all the way at the back of the plane. I was fortunate enough to feel out of it enough that I don't recall being able to gauge anyone's reaction, but having to pass literally every other person in coach before I got to the smallest bathroom in the world was probably the closest thing I've ever done to a walk of shame and I'm sure it's probably the nastiest.

Anyway, that smallest bathroom in the world, which can be found on pretty much any large passenger plane in the world presented a new challenge, as R had been kind enough to bring me back some clothes to change into and a bag for the destroyed ones. It took what felt like an eternity to change in that cramped space with what a sloshie stomach and newly forming headache. It doesn't help that anytime I finally was able to feel balance it felt like the plane hit a floating iceberg and threw me backward. I'm not sure how many minutes went by, but in addition to getting a few, 'Sir, are you okay?'s, the flight attendants thought I was on drugs or something and started asking R about my, 'medications.'

After an eternity, I emerged from the plane's restroom feeling like I had lost a fight to a steamroller. I shuffled back to my seat and slunk down next to R, who was also feeling terrible. We huddled together until the plane landed in Dallas and collapsed onto a bench in terminal after debarking. After a few bathroom visits and quick discussion, we came to the realization that the last thing we were up for at that point was catching our connecting flight and potentially adding a few more gallons of vomit high above the great state of Texas.

So, with the assistance of an awesome Cab driver and a very generous hotel night clerk, we were able to get a room in Dallas, stumble into it and pass out. It had been relatively harrowing to that point, but the saga was far from over.

**To be continued next Wednesday, July 7th**