On our Way to Zion

 What a difference a cheerful disposition can make. The day before everybody was harried as the Shreveport security was scrambling to get people on planes that were late already. Their demeanor resulted in a tension that transferred to us, and coupled with the fact that the airline called final boarding on our flight twice while we were in line, I began to wonder if we were going to make even our first flight. After clearing security, I grabbed everything, including my belt, and traipsed off down the concourse at a brisk clip, all the while grasping my belt less waistband to keep my trews from falling around my knees. We boarded at last, along with some other interesting folks. Most of the details of the Shreveport to Dallas flight are lost to me as I, as previously noted, fretted about the the lost show, etc.

   Thursday morning we made it to the airport with a couple of hours to spare. We sailed through security, a little wiser to the procedures in place for this week, and it didn't hurt that it was early. As we stood looking at the security ropes mazes, trying to decide which one to enter, an agent at an empty line waved at us and cheerfully told us to "come on over!" He greeted us cordially, yet all the while professionally checking who we were and verifying our travel details. The x-ray machine and security arch were successfully navigated, with equally affable yet professional agents and we were through, ready to continue.

 A quick shifty at the departures board confirmed that there was a flight leaving before ours. After a brief confab, we decided not to try going standby on it, as it would only speed our arrival by half an hour, and at this juncture we weren't sure where our baggage was and we didn't want to possibly confuse the issue by adding another flight number to the mix. We had been told that A) The bags would have gone on ahead of us, and B)The bags were in the same space/time continuum as we were, and would arrive when we did, so in truth were not sure where they were.

The flight to Vegas was uneventful, with only my mounting frustration at not being able to add to the blog,due to communication issues, the only cloud on my horizon. Until we got to Vegas and I saw the Blue Man poster in the airport. that is, and then I had to come to grips, again, that we weren't going to see them. I think the biggest frustration was that Aand C had never seen them, and the poster looks, compared to other posters, a little strange.As their adverts say, it is almost impossible to describe the show, and I had so wanted for A and C to see them, as I was sure they would love them. Well, it was not to be so, we continued our trek through the Las Vegas airport to baggage claim, a journey designed it would see to relieve you of as much money as possible, since we went by bank after bank of slot machines, video poker, and the like.

After finally arriving at baggage claim, we watched the bags come out of the chute, but they were all someone else's bags! And then the machine stopped, and Anthea asked me where all the passengers on our flight were, to which  I responded, :"They have collected their bags and are gone!" A nasty moment seemed to be in the offing,as we were wearing what we had on when we left Shreveport two days prior, and I could see Andy standing at another bag chute which also had decided to stop. I had that sinking feeling that it was time to get professional help, baggage claim help that is, so I wandered over to the American Airlines office. As I neared the office, I noticed rows of bags with long bicycle chains securing them. And,lo there amongst them, was my duffel, and yea, next to it was Chris' case, also with them were Anthea's bag and Andy's case. Hallelujah, we were saved!!!