CREASES AND WRINKLES ASIDE

                                                CREASES AND WRINKLES ASIDE
                                                                 T. Wieland Allen    
    Laughing at myself gives me the greatest joy a person can have at my age.  Maybe that is a benefit of growing older.  The older we get, the more forgiving of our own actions we become and also the more experiences we have in life which free us from getting upset at either major or minor situations.
    I took a trip to the west coast recently to see two of my children.  In planning the trip, I wanted to first stop by the residential complex into which my good friend Dorothy had just moved.  The building is in the same nearby town as the airport.   I left three hours early from home before I needed to get to my plane to check in and go through security.  It takes an hour to get to the Tulsa Airport but I needed extra time to have lunch with my friend in Bixby which is in the far south end of the Tulsa area from the airport.  I figured that two extra hours would be plenty of time to spare, other than the time needed to get to the airport, check in and go through security.   Maybe I should have considered the "catching up" conversation time that is necessary when good friends get together. I arrived at her apartment with two hours to spare before I needed to arrive at the airport. 
   We ate lunch at her facility, had good tuna and potato salads.  Then we went to her lovely two bedroom apartment on the bottom floor which is beautifully decorated because she was a professional home decorator.  After my viewing her apartment she wanted me to teach her how to text on her cell phone.  I told her that I needed to leave at 2:00 to get to the airport on the north side of Tulsa so I would get to the check-in counter at 3:00 before the plane left at 4:00. We agreed that I needed to leave at least that early.
     Dorothy had a terrible time learning how to operate her phone, as did I in the beginning of my experiences with IPhones.  It took us much longer than expected and I should have set the alarm on my phone in order to have the right amount of time to drive to the airport an hour earlier than the departing time of my flight.  During our tutoring time, I looked at my watch and it said the time was 2:45.  I should have left 45 minutes before that.  Oh, dear.  I wasn't even sure what route to take to the airport. 
     I rushed down the hall of the complex, ran to my car, praying all the way, asking for a favor from God that the plane would be late and I would get there in time.  That took great faith on my part, but I know about God's goodness so I knew I wasn't asking for something frivolously. 
     The thought came to me about a short cut I had heard about, so I got on a loop around Tulsa, hoping it would take me to the airport in plenty of time.  Glory be, it did, although not in "plenty" of time.  I pulled into the long term parking lot at 3:30 instead of 2:45 or 3:00 which was my original plan.  I quickly unloaded my two suitcases and boogied as fast as I could to check in and get my boarding pass, dragging my two suitcases behind me, one which contained a small sewing machine for my daughter's birthday.
     I made it to the Southwest check-in counter at 3:40 and breathlessly said that I was going to San Francisco.  The lady said I was fortunate because the plane was 15 minutes late.  Thank you, God.  I knew You would do it for me. Praise You forever!
      Then she asked for my ID.  Oh, my gosh, I had left it at home in my other purse.  I had no identity except for my Medicare card, my Blue Cross card, plus a credit card.   I needed a card with a picture ID, driver's license preferred.  After giving her an excuse why I had forgotten to grab my license, she apologetically informed me that I would have to go through a thorough search and pat down in order to board the plane.  That was okay with me.  I knew that Southwest had to let me fly because I had a ticket, but Homeland Security might be a problem. 
      Sure enough, when I got to the check-in at Homeland Security, the attendant  looked at me like I had robbed a bank.  He called a supervisor who drilled me about the reason I did not follow instructions and bring my picture ID.  I joked with him about my age, suggesting that he give an 80 year old lady some leeway since I was so late in getting to the airport.  He was not swayed by my jokes and logic. 
He informed me that I would have to take off my jacket and shoes, jewelry, etc., and be personally patted down by a female security guard.  Considering that that was the only way I would be able to board the plane, I willingly yielded to the instructions.
      I have traditionally carried on airplanes a large fabric bag which fits underneath the seat in front of me and it has always been filled with things I really never need, but thinking that there might come a time when I will need them, I stuff them in that bag.  Problem was, the Homeland Security supervisor had to go through that 2 1/2 feet by four feet fabric bag completely with its six compartments, wiping down everything in there with a swatch of material containing something that identifies explosives.  He wiped my three lipstick tubes, my three magazines, my hand wipes, my tissue case, my address book, my hairbrush, my compact, my small wallet containing money, and other total nonessentials that I always think I might need.  Not only did those things have to be wiped with the swatches, but also my shoes, jacket, my jewelry, and my compression sleeve that I have to wear on my arm for lymphadema.  After each item was wiped down, he put that swatch into a machine which tested for explosives.  None were found, of course.  I was glad that they are so thorough.  Then the blue gloved young lady patted me down from head to toe, front to back, inside legs and under arms with my arms stretched straight out.  That entire ordeal took a good 20 minutes. 
    After they decided I was no threat to society, they released me to go.  I quickly got into my jacket, walking into my shoes at the same time, grabbed my large fabric bag and ran to the proper gate.  The line to board was beginning to walk onto the plane.  I made it.  God saved me again!  Thank Him forever!!!
    Because of the stringent time consuming but necessary extra activities, I did not have time to go to the bathroom to empty my full bladder before boarding the airplane.  Dorothy and I had had two big glasses of peach tea, plus a glass of water.  Fortunately for me, the connecting flight was in Dallas, so I knew it wouldn't be long for the flight to arrive there and I could find a restroom in that airport. It was an uncomfortable flight to Dallas, full bladder and all.  
   When we landed in Dallas I was desperate, needing to empty from my bladder all of those liquids that I had unwisely consumed.  Fortunately, I was in the front of the airplane, and when it was my turn to exit, I ran to the closest ladies restroom, threw the door open, quickly hung my fabric carry-on bag on the hook on the door and crouched down over the toilet, straddling it because I didn't have time to get a paper seat cover applied.  I jerked my black trousers down to my ankles, pulled down my black panties to my knees, pulled my shirt up to my shoulders and started relieving my bladder into the toilet.
   I was so glad to make it there without urine running down my leg.  All of a sudden the weight of my carry-on bag somehow was able to swing the door to the stall outward.  I evidently had not securely locked the latch and so the weight of my bag caused the huge door of the toilet stall to swing outward, revealing me straddling the toilet in my crouched position with my bottom exposed for all the world to see.  There was a long line of ladies in front of me who were waiting in line to use the toilets and there I was, fully exposed.  The two ladies who were closest to the door had a birds eye view. 
    I said loudly, "Well, hello," without stopping the flow into the toilet because I couldn't.   One nice lady stepped over and closed the door and held it until I could grab the bottom of it and hold it until I finished my business.  I would have been so embarrassed if it hadn't been so funny. 
    Fortunately the two ladies who observed my entire bare lower anatomy in that crouched position while straddling the toilet had made it into a stall and I didn't have to face them.  I laughed at myself for an hour and decided it was material for a short story to put on my blog.
     I had to be patted down two more times for different flights so I got use to it.  All three times the Home Security officials treated me like a bank robber again.  How dare I go off without a picture ID was the attitude behind their stern looks.  I joked with them and they softened up a bit.  I had to be careful about the subject of my joking because they are very sensitive about that.
    It was an enjoyable adventure.  My son at home took a picture of my driver's license and texted it to my daughter in San Francisco and she printed out a big replica of it.  That got me through the two other Southwest check-ins, plus the first security check, but not the final Home Security ones.  I had to be patted down and the contents of my carry-on bag had to wiped for explosives again two times.  I became use to it.  I was just glad to know they are so efficient.  I thanked them for their efficiency and all three supervisors acted shocked.  Maybe no one has thanked them before. 
     Getting older means that one loses all sense of embarrassment.  We elders laugh at ourselves because nothing is that serious to us anymore.  Life is an adventure to be lived with joy and I have arrived at that point. 
     I have to give credit to God again for seeing that my flight was late and that the loop around Tulsa that He impressed me to take was the right one, getting me to the airport barely in time to get all of the extra duties done by Homeland Security.    
    I remained calm the whole time.  Hey, I had a ticket for a Southwest flight so they had to honor that ticket.  The problem was Homeland Security and their rules, which I appreciate because it makes me feel safe and secure.  Believe me, nobody will ever get anything dangerous past those supervisors.
    The experience has taught me never to leave my driver's license at home in my other wallet and also when in a ladies room to always lock the latch securely.  When in line waiting for a stall, I learned to look straight ahead in case one of the ladies in a stall has the same experience of the stall door swinging outward, revealing her complete lower anatomy.  I would be willing to close the door for her, like the nice lady did for me, but I would not relish the unpleasant sight of gazing on her exposed lower anatomy.
    Preparation is always the key.  I must remember to be fully prepared next month when I fly to the west coast again.  My anatomy is not what it used to be.  It has all slipped down several inches with lots of creases and wrinkles that I, myself, refrain from looking upon, even in mirrors.  Also, my driver's license will be in my bag along with money and necessary cards.
    "Always Be Prepared" was either the Boy Scout or the Girl Scout motto when I was young.  Great advice, no matter what your age is. I wasn't prepared this time but God saved me from my mistakes, like He always does.  I think "Be Prepared" is one of the instructions in His book of wisdom called the Proverbs. Of course He would think of it.  He's God.  He knows the mistakes that people make and He saves us every time from our own forgetfulness. Where would we be if He didn't?
     People only give each other three strikes and you're out, like in baseball.  Not God.  So far, I'm up to like four million strikes and he hasn't declared me out yet and He never will.  It's called forgiveness.  I think I'll practice forgiveness more.  As much as I've been forgiven, I owe it to Him for me to forgive others.  Forgiveness from Him and forgiveness for others clears our arteries and gives us things to laugh about. 
    Hey, getting older is a blast.  Refusing to fret about mistakes and misdeeds is a plus to a person's health and attitudes.  You've lived long enough to appreciate your own quirks and you don't sweat the small stuff, the medium stuff or the big stuff.  Why should we?  God doesn't. 
     I wish you happy traveling but don't forget your ID.  I didn't mind making the Homeland Security ladies work for their pay, as unpleasant as it is for them.  Be sure and appreciate their efficiency like I did.  They acted glad to be appreciated instead of being the subject of insults for causing delays. 
    Elderly people enjoy spreading sunshine around.  I do and it got me to my destination and home in a joyful and jolly mood.  Maybe I left a little sunshine at the security line.  They badly need it!