Author: William Douthwaite

Posted in Moments of grace

An early morning drive: alone or not?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Alejo Reinoso on Unsplash

I looked up ahead and saw…no one. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw…no one.

No cars. No trucks. Nothing. Just darkness.

I was out here on the highway…alone.

My flight was delayed. I landed at 1:30 in the morning. Caught my shuttle to long term parking. Got on the toll road, then the interstate. Forty miles to go. It’s nice at night. No trucks on my tail. No lights in my mirrors blinding me. No slow drivers to pass. No cars weaving through car-filled lanes. Just me.

It’s surreal. I’m not prepared for this. There’s always red tail lights to follow. There’s always the glare of oncoming headlights. There’s always someone merging onto the highway. There’s always Amazon trucks, car carriers, fuel trucks, and trailers laden with boats.

Not tonight. Tonight it’s just me.

This moment is peaceful. Almost hypnotic. A dream? No, I’m awake. I slept on the plane.

But what if. What if there are no other drivers? What if I’m not just alone on the road, but alone in the world? What if I get home, and there’s no one there?

A lot of weird things go through my head at 3 in the morning. Alone in a car, alone on a road, alone in…the world?

I can go as fast as I want. Or slow. I can stop right here if I want. I can turn around and drive in the other direction. I can swerve from lane to lane. No one to see, no one imposing limits, no one saying, “Stop!” no blue and red lights in my rear view mirror.

My speed is seventy-ish. I’m in the center lane. In an instant, I see lights behind me and lights ahead of me. My exit approaches.

I am not alone. Many others are out here driving. Driving like no one else is on the road. Eighty-five. Lane to lane. Disappearing from sight around the curve.

And I am alone once again.

I really hope someone is home, waiting for me.

Posted in Travel

Taking Flight in a Black Suit: How to make a Lasting Impression

Posted on by William Douthwaite

One man stood out in the gate area. In a sea of jeans and polos, his tailored black suit demanded a second glance. A large gold watch, light brown, two-buckle leather shoes, and coordinated pocket square completed his outfit.

Best of all, he was wearing sunglasses. He was wearing sunglasses at night waiting at the gate for a delayed flight departure.

I know there are good reasons to wear sunglasses indoors. Some eyes are very sensitive to any light. Celebrities don’t want recognition. When you wear sunglasses, people can’t tell if you are looking at them or not. Sunglasses can make you look cool.

So what’s this guy’s story? Was he accompanying another traveler, a bodyguard of some type? He could have been a preacher. Though I never dressed up to travel, some do. Was he on his way to or home from an upscale event? Did he work for the airline in an important role? Returning home from a funeral?

A well-dressed person flying early in the morning blends right in with lots of others on their way to meetings. Tonight, though, he’s one of those things that doesn’t belong. The guy next to me was wearing red and black checked pajama pants. Lots of women in yoga pants and crop tops. Plenty of people with sleeping doughnuts around their necks. Kids with backpacks almost as large as them. And this one gentleman in a black suit.

The detail that puzzles me is the backpack. I’ve got nothing against backpacks. I travel with one. But I would have expected him to be carrying some kind of leather briefcase.

When the flight finally boarded, I made my way down the aisle past his seat. He wasn’t flying first class or even in the larger seat section. Just a middle seat. I overheard him talking to the person next to him, and he mentioned real estate, residuals, and Melbourne, Florida. Just another person on their way to work.

Many people want to be noticed and remembered. A black suit is one way to make that happen.

Posted in Travel

The travel game: Winning a few hands

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I flew back from my son’s house in Dallas on a discount airline into Orlando. I’ve got this figured out. My only luggage is a backpack that meets the 18 x 14 x inch size for a free carry-on bag to fit under the seat. My cheap flights stay cheap.

While waiting for my zone to board the plane, I watched with amusement as the gate agent pulled several passengers aside whose bags clearly didn’t meet the free personal item criteria. Not even close.

If challenged, a passenger must fit their bag or backpack into a metal bin with specific dimensions. Many were not even close. I believe some were twice the size of a “personal” item.

One woman who failed the challenge pulled items out of her bag and laid them on a chair. Then, zipping up her bag, she successfully got it into the bin. With patience and perseverance, the agent instructed her, “Now put all that stuff in your bag and do that again.” Nice try!

I watched the distressed faces. We’re finally boarding the plane. But they were caught red-handed. They would now have to pay through the nose for their carry-on bags. They were surrounded by signs telling them to measure their bag and pay for their bags. Size bins are everywhere. They assumed none of that applied to them.

Here’s what I find interesting. All of this is intentional. I believe the airline sets me up to spend more money. (It’s always about the money, isn’t it?) They sell me a very low fare – $38 one way – to go and visit my son. Once I pay for my ticket, the game is on. Want to check a bag? Pick your own seat? Want more leg room? Want wifi on the flight? How about snacks? Priority boarding? Each will cost you a little more money. I didn’t add them all up, but if I chose them all, I might pay more than I would for a ticket on a regular airline.

I decline them all, but then the emails come. Have I changed my mind? I can still purchase these options. But each is just a little more expensive.

When it’s time to check in, I have to wade through all the options yet one more time. Just in case I have a little extra money laying around.

I’ll bet a lot of passengers ignore most of the emails, texts, and options. Then they arrive at the airport, and they’re going to pay.

It’s a clever game. I’ve lost a few rounds. But now I know how to play. I’ve won a few hands in the game of travel.

Posted in grandparenting

The magic of snack time

Posted on by William Douthwaite

My time with my son and family wasn’t all work. Their mom and dad took advantage of my presence to run a few errands, usually in the afternoon during nap/quiet time. Not everyone slept nor were they quiet, but no one forgot what come next.

Snack time.

I love being there for snack time. I love to serve them up and consume them myself. I watched carefully when my brother and his wife brought out the snacks. Lay out a snack charcuterie and let them nibble on what they’re most into at that moment.

It’s a good strategy. Fruit, cut up veggies, pretzels, cheese are popular. So much so the three of them consumed all of it. Every crumb.

I wasn’t done yet though. When I was rifling through the pantry, I happened upon the remaining stash of Easter candy. Jackpot. Everyone also had a couple little candy with the condition they didn’t need to mention it to their parents.

These grandchildren eat their sweets slowly and thoughtfully. Small, carefully planned bites. Fingers licked clean. Wrappers inspected for crumbs.

No matter how happy or sad, busy or bored, running or relaxing, the phrase guaranteed to get everyone’s attention is, “Do you want a snack?”

I love being grandpa at snack time!

Posted in Life, memories

No one said I couldn’t, so I climbed

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I was sitting on the back patio in late afternoon and I found myself wondering how tall the scrub pine trees were in the two vacant lots on each side of our yard. As they swayed in the breeze, I suddenly recalled the giant maple trees I used to climb when I was a kid.

These two trees were five feet in diameter at the base. They were meant for climbing. The trunk divided into two just a few feet off the ground. Either route was filled with foothold that quickly got me up above the roof of our two- story house. But that was only the halfway point. I was able to keep going until the trunk was less that six inches across. On a windy day I really had to hold on, swaying back and forth, fifty-plus feet up, looking out over the neighborhood through the leaves.

This episode doesn’t include any falls or injuries. Sorry. I didn’t tell my mom what I was up to, other than, “Climbing the tree.” She probably knew. Moms just do. Maybe I was the reason she smoked and drank. My dad never said I couldn’t, so I climbed.

I remember the feeling of accomplishment. I felt strong, fearless, and daring. I would wrap some tape around the branch I reached so I could break my record the next time I climbed.

The trees in my yard aren’t climbable. Fifty-feet tall with no branches to step on or hold onto. Besides, I would never let my kids or grandkids climb like that. I’d be the one yelling, “Get off of there!” But they’re smart. They’d wait until I wasn’t watching.

Posted in Stories

A little home improvement with my grandson

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I’ve been spending a few days at my son’s house to help with a few house projects: repairing some bathroom tile, replacing baseboards, and some painting. My six-year-old grandson has been there every step of the way to keep me company and help out a little. He’s good at measuring and getting me tools. And he loves going to Home Depot.

Our first shopping trip was for for the bathroom: tile, thin set, grout, trowel, and some backer board. He got to push the cart with everything else in it so I could load up the heavy board. The guy at the cash register let him scan all the items. He loaded everything in the van and brought everything in when we got home.

Today, we went back to get baseboard. I had to cut up some of the 16-foot boards so I could get them home. He was right there to hold the ends for me.

He really wanted to paint with me, but everything I had to do was up on the ladder today. I’ll save him a few spots to roll at his height tomorrow.

My wife sent him a tool belt and a few tools. He was outfitted and ready to go this morning. I asked, “Hey, you have a screwdriver there?”

“Which kind?” He held out a regular and Phillips.

“Can you measure along that wall for me?” He used his tape measure for that and a lot of other measurements throughout the day.

I’m blessed to have some time to spend with him.

Posted in Travel

A bonus trip through security

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The airport (Orlando) was packed with travelers yesterday. I left extra early, never sure what traffic will be like. I got there two hours early, didn’t check a bag, and sailed through security. Plenty of time for a cup of coffee and maybe a snack.

Starbucks line

Never mind. Eighty people were lined up at the Starbucks. I’ll just sit and read a little. I walked down to Gate 7, found a seat, and felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Gate change. Gate 84.

<Sigh.> I walked back to the tram, got back to terminal A, and discovered I needed to go to B terminal. So I had to leave the secure area and go through security a second time. Give me a break.

The security going into terminal B was jam packed. Estimated wait time: one hour. I could still make the flight. I took a deep breath, picked a line, and prepared myself to wait.

And wait I did. The lines barely moved for the next 45 minutes. TSA must have been understaffed. Only three agents were checking IDs for about 500 people in line. Beyond them only one scanner was being used.

The lady ahead of me had a flight leaving about the same time as mine. She said, “There’s no way we’re going to make it.”

I said, “I think we’ve got time. Let’s be glass half-full. We could be those folks” and I nodded towards the lines that stretched a hundred feet back.

Well, we didn’t have time. I finally got through and onto the tram with five minutes to go. I don’t know how she made out, but I made it before the door closed. I put my belt back on after I sat down, grateful to be on board.

Actually, the plane waited another half-hour for passengers because of the gate change and very slow security.

Maybe that’s what hell is like. You just keep going through security over and over and over again.

Posted in Stories

Remember: It’s an adventure!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

As the pilot announced, “We’re starting our initial descent,” the mother in the row ahead of me explodes at her daughter, “I’m gonna bust your butt when we get off this plane!”

Giggling, her little girl kept poking her mom’s ear, pinching her cheek, and grabbing her hair. “You’re gonna get an ass busting. Right in the bathroom. I’m serious. You’re getting a spanking.”

It was like no one was on the plane except this seven year old by the window and her middle seat momma. I’ll bet they’ve had this conversation before. At home, in a car, or while shopping. I’ll bet few butts had ever been beaten. These were empty threats. The kid knew it. She was running the show here.

I know it’s harder to travel with kids. You’re not going to be reading a book or snoozing. They’re going to need extra attention. And you better be prepared with snacks, games, movies, more snacks, and drinks.

Traveling with children is special. They’re excited. They’re in awe of huge planes, real pilots, views out the window, the roar of engines, and going someplace new. They remind us that it’s an adventure!

Keep your sense of adventure. Be in awe. And bring lots of snacks!

Posted in Stories

I’m done; he’s just getting started

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Sam Moghadam Khamseh on Unsplash

When I arrived at the gym on Saturday, I got there just as a man about my age was fumbling for his key fob to get in. I said, “I got it,” and swiped mine for the both of us.

He then signed in on the same clipboard as I do, a Silver and Fit membership that I get free through my insurance. I said, “Oh, so you’re the other old guy.” He didn’t answer.

I get right to work at the gym. My workouts always start with squats, so I find a rack and start doing warmup reps with an empty bar and then increasing weights until I get to my working weight. It only takes me a few minutes and I’m ready to begin my five sets of five reps.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him slowly and deliberately get ready to work out. He sat on a bench and unpacked his duffle, laying out his gear. He took off his sandals, put on socks, and pulled his knee braces up. After he put on his shoes he hung two weight belts over a bar on another squat rack. He certainly was well-equipped.

By this time, I’d finished my squats and moved on to overhead press.

In between sets I watched him set up his phone on tripod and aim it carefully at the squat rack where he would be working. He sat for a few moments, writing in a notebook. He found a few plates and loaded up the bar. Finally, he started doing a few warmup repetitions.

Having finished my presses, I moved on to deadlift, which for me is only a few sets. I was done by the time he began his workout.

I know it’s good to be prepared, safe, and methodical. Take your time, and make sure your form is correct. Everyone has their own style. I just don’t have that much time to be in the gym. I get in and out as quickly as possible.

Some people say they don’t have time to work out. Guess why?