Elise & Paul + 3

I think I remember a time when travelling, the actual act of getting from Point A to Point B, was as much worth looking forward to as the vacation itself, when vacation began as you arrived at the airport (the excitement palpable as the whoosh of the jets taking on and off shuddered the car) and not when the vulcanized, industrial-strength rubber of the landing gear touched tarmac and your bags emerged from the cold, mysterious hinter-region beyond those weird plastic flaps, and the journey was an exciting voyage in and of itself: coloring books, plastic lapel wings, peeks into the cockpit, soda on a precarious, vibrating tray, BK chicken 'tenders' (I use the word 'tender' in its loosest, most malleable form) in the airport...I realize travel will never be what it was pre-9/11. It will also never be what it was pre-Sam as I never would have had many of the thoughts I had on our trip to Washington State had Sam not been with us.

For instance, when Elise and I took our seats on the connecting flight from Phoenix (where the local temperature is 75) to Spokane (where the local temperature is 29...brrrr!!), the stewardess moved us from the right side of the plane to the left side of the plane because "of the baby and that's where the air masks were". Huh?! What about the people on the right side of the plane? They don't get air masks? And in the pre-flight safety video only one mask dangles down per seat. So, God forbid, if this compartment pops open and I have to put a yellow plastic cone over my nose, will there be enough? Now in my head, I'm envisioning--after having secured the yellow plastic cone over Sam's nose...actually, it would probably cover his whole face--I'm going to have to rush through the plane to find an unused air mask before asphyxiating or being sucked into the ether in the ensuing sudden loss of cabin pressure.

On Elise and I's first trip to Seattle, we took a ferry ride from Seattle, across Puget Sound, to Bainbridge Island. We became suspicious when Coast Guard in Zodiacs appeared off our port bow, splashing in and out of the ferry's wake as it escorted us across the sound. Our fears were later corroborated when the local news reported recent terrorist threats against the maritime highway. I knew that if anything happened to the ferry, I could get Elise and I to shore (I was a lifeguard once. It wouldn't be pretty, but even in 50 degree water, I was confident--Not to say that Elise couldn't take care of herself--I could keep the two of us afloat for several miles or hours...whichever came first). Now, if our plane came down over the water, we were going to skid down inflatible slides into the Gulf of Mexico (assuming we could stumble over the bony knees of the German in the emergency row), and I would have to keep 3 people afloat and safe. These are the kinds of things I think about now on a plane.

Then there was the guy sitting next to us on our last leg home, a charred Boca-ite with yellow hair and a watch on each wrist who smelled like a Double Whopper with extra onions and extra special sauce who I feared, after his third Sutter Homes red in the screw-cap mini bottle, was going to spill either wine, Russian dressing from his $7 pastrami on marbled-rye or hair grease on my son. Thankfully, Sam slept through most of the flight while Elise and I lip-read the in-flight movie, "August Rush", and eavesdropped as the aforementioned seat neighbor tried to pick up the married woman in 14C and wondered aloud "what time dinner service was" as though he were on a cruise ship or at a Club Med.

Travel, though, is necessary. Not going to see the grandparents or the great-grandparents or not going to see something as simple as the subtle differences between the inside of a Starbucks in Cheney as opposed to the inside of a Starbucks in Jupiter is not an option. And one could not ask for a more tolerant and forgiving travel companion to join Elise and I on our meanderings as Sam.

Some of the firsts Sam experienced on his trip: first plane ride, first limo ride, first snow, first cross-country journey, first dinner at Wolf Lodge, first time seeing his cousin, Little E, and first time to Zips! Pictures at 11.