For years, I’ve beaten myself up because I don’t step into a car like Audrey Hepburn. You know what I mean–Sabrina getting into Linus’ little sports car–sitting down, swinging to her left, bringing torso and legs, knee touching knee, and stiletto-heeled feet, around, until she faces the windshield and her whole body relaxes on leather upholstery, and all in one continuous motion. And she steps of the car by reversing the process, turning, placing her feet lightly but firmly on the ground, and rising, perfectly balanced, a model of grace, like Aphrodite rising from the sea. And you can tell by her expression that she doesn’t even have to concentrate to get it right.
But the dream, although postponed, never died. In January, I set a target date and place: August 20, 2017, at the La Quinta in Blue Springs, Missouri. About 5:30 p.m.
I practiced.
The best laid plans, however.
Sunday, August 20, 2017, we left for the Austin airport about 8:30 a.m. for a 2:00 p.m. flight. We arrived at La Quinta in Blue Springs after 10:00 that night.
Well, things happened.
When the plane you’re supposed to take out of Dallas develops medical problems and doesn’t respond to treatment, you don’t complain. You’re just grateful they found the problem before you boarded instead of when you were hanging in the air with the Red River 35,000 feet below.
But when you finally get to Blue Springs and roll up in front of La Quinta, and all your muscles are cramped, and all your joints feel like they’re welded in place, you tell Audrey to go fly a kite.
We parked. I tumbled out of the car, staggered into the lobby, fell onto the nearest couch, and, while David checked us in, watched a movie on the SyFy channel. A lobsterish-crabbish-scorpionish thing was throwing something that looked like a cross between Batman and Conan the Barbarian all over the screen while both yelled and moaned and grunted.
I knew exactly how they felt.
And that was that.
That is that for this post, too. Because we left the Blue Springs La Quinta this morning about 8:30 for a 12:30 p.m. flight and got home at exactly 3:29 p.m., and although the trip was uneventful, I nonetheless tumbled out of the car, etc.
So. That’s what happened Sunday and Tuesday. For an account of Monday’s goings-on, check back tomorrow. Or maybe Thursday.
Because it’s after midnight, and I’m tired of sitting around waiting, and of flying all scrunched up in those little bitty seats, and of writing this post, and of Audrey Hepburn. And I’m going to bed.
‘Night.
Kathy Waller 