Homegoing

I’m home.  Got home a week ago today and guess what?  I’m leaving again, tomorrow in fact.  I’m deploying into the field and my wife couldn’t be happier about it.

That’s because I’m taking the kids camping.  Louise can’t wait for us to drive down the driveway a second time (I always forget something and have to come back at least once) giving her a few days of well-deserved peace.

I’ve still got plenty of stories to tell from my deployment, but for now…the trip home.

The blessed day had arrived and at the appointed time I made my way to the pax terminal.  While we passengers were ready to go, our ride home was still en route.  In its parking space sat an IL-76 (I know this because “IL-76″ was painted on the nose). 

I call it "Chain Link in Sharp Focus"...ruined by that IL-76 in the background.

And then my fairy godmother turned our Russian pumpkin into an American carriage.

In the military rank has its privileges.  Being of modest rank I have to earn (most of) my perks, including preferred seating.  The means to that end was baggage handling duty so when volunteers were sought I stepped right up.  My reward: boarding an empty plane and picking my seat.  Though this aircraft didn’t have first class seats I did score two seats by a window in row 1 and space in an overhead bin.

Still, I was a little disappointed.  I was ready to dive in to the baggage and show the volunteers in their 20s that a 45 year old could keep up in the desert heat.  When the call went out for an additional body in the the belly of the plane I trotted up the belt loader, gloved and ready for action.  Hell, I’d been doing P90X for a couple of months; what did it matter that I’d been awake for over 24 hours and had already worked out twice in that time?

It mattered not, for as I entered the belly of the 767 I was handed a counter, a pen and some paper and told to count how many bags went into each section.  I was also given a sign reading “lame” to place on my back and a card giving me preferred seating on all short buses.  I tried to trade for some real work several times during the loading but no one would switch.

Punks.  I’d better not catch them on my lawn, that’s all I’m going to say about that.

Our first stop was Leipzig, Germany, arriving around 2 am local time.  Once on the ground we were whisked away to a magical world of pay phones, potted plants, and open gift shops.  Before catching a nap I did a little shopping.  Eschewing the cans of Jack and Coke and cannabis iced tea I hit the chocolate section, taking home $44 worth of Europe’s finest.  That $44 became $56 after it was converted to euros (to charge my card) and back to dollars (to debit my account), but it was still a bargain compared to the $100 I spent on a pay phone call home.

Plus I have an extra large bag of Maltesers to show for it.  Suck it, Whoppers…I’ll take Maltesers over you any day.

Leipzig's greatest attraction? Long, armrest-free benches.

Less than five hours after landing we were airborne again, and a mere 9 hours later we were on the ground in Baltimore.

Do you know what’s cool about traveling with the military?  We all know how to wait in line.  When a second line at customs was started by splitting the existing line, everyone just followed along in an orderly fashion.  There was none of that line jumping you see by civilians at the grocery store when a new cash register opens up…you know, where some jackass at the end of the line tries to zip to the front ahead of everyone else.

It wasn’t clear when I’d actually land in Baltimore, clear customs, and get my bags (I still had to wait for them despite spending time in customs…that’s BWI for you) so rather than have my family meet me at the airport we decided I’d surprise the kids by catching a taxi home.

It worked.

My youngest was closest to the door...

...followed by my daughter, still in pajamas...

...and eventually, all three!

They weren’t the only ones who were surprised.  The first difference I noticed was that my wife had clearly been working out in my absence.  Sorry, no pictures…yet…she was holding the camera. ”Where’s the rest of you?” was the only thing I could think to say.

The second thing I noticed was my fantastic new kitchen.

A French door refrigerator and granite countertops? Hand me my apron, son, I've got work to do!

A quick shower, a change of clothes, and we celebrated my return in true style.

At Costco.

Yep, less than two hours after I walked through the front door we headed to the Costco, my favorite store in the world.

Their $1.50 hot dog never tasted so good.