WHY ME, LORD?

It is that time of the year. Christmas, make walnut and pecan bread, cookies and pick up #1 Son from JFK International Airport.

As I do every year, I rise at the crack of the ending of day, about three o’clock in the morning and drive the LIE and the Southern State Parkway to the Belt Parkway to the JFK Expressway to the airport. These last few years, for the most part were uneventful. You find your color that corresponds with the airline you are going to, and follow the colors! Simply? Direct? Guaranteed? Not any more. You parked across the street and walked over to the terminal. Then JetBlue decided to redo everything, and eliminate parking, just to test me.

#1 Son likes to fly JetBlue, the TV airline. It used to have two buildings, one for arrivals and one for departures. Now it all changed, but, to get back to my tale of woe.

Driving along the JFK Expressway, I missed the designation signs for the colors! I soon realize I am running out of expressway, and need to get off! I turn where I think I should and am heading into somewhere in Ohio. I get off and back on the Expressway and take a chance. I start to realize I may be right, or, I may be wrong. There in front of me looms this huge building with big letters: J-E-T-B-L-U-E! The signs point to parking for the terminal. I am in triumph! Oh, glory be! Me, I did it! But I am still driving, and driving, and driving. Finally, the sign says: “Welcome to JETBLUE parking, for your convenience.” Or something like that. I park, not even sure where the hell the building is. Is it this way, or that way, or maybe I’m not in the parking lot anymore.

This young family is parked and getting out of their SUV. I ask: “Excuse me, but where is the JetBlue Terminal?” The guy looks at me like I’m crazed. I know, because I’ve seen that look in my wife and kids eyes often enough. “Why its over there!” Showoff.

I head in the direction he points, and walk through a maze of walls, iron works and up to a street. Turning to my right, I figure I better follow the young family who must think I’m on something. This should scare the hell out of grandma who is accompanying the young whippersnapper and his brood. They lead and I follow, feeling like a pervert or a crazed addict. Up to an elevator. Perfect, Grandma is really going to have a nervous breakdown when I join them on the elevator. I get on after them, and they all back into the corner, except Grandma, who is frantically pushing the Braille first floor button! “Oh, Lady, I do that all the time!” I push the regular first floor button. (She started it) I figure I need to push a higher floor to move this crate. I hit three, and we arrive at the final destination.

Piling out of the elevator, I see a sign: “WELCOME to the JetBlue Skywalk. I start my journey, across a few major highways, utilizing six moving walkways! I reach the main building, and look down from an escalator. There below me is the total population of Brooklyn, Queens and Long Island, all on lines, coughing, sneezing and sweating, looking to check in. I descended the escalator into the abyss of germs and their hosts. I look for the ‘arrivals’ portion of the setup, thinking it is another building but there is no indication. I see a cop (for you sissies ‘policeman’) and ask. He points to the same escalator I just came down and tells me it is another escalator behind that one.

Entering the ‘arrivals’, I find this spacious wide open and people free baggage claim area.

TOMORROW: "When will it end?"

Please remember Joan and DD, and all those that need our prayers.