Monthly Archives: July 2013

How much money for stupidity?

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I am still amazed at how dysfunctional the new Birmingham airport actually is. I waited, anxiously, for the new terminal to open in expectation of a congruent travel experience. You see, when you know the TSA, counter and gate agents by name you know you spend too much time at the airport. I expected to see a fly by lane for frequent travelers. I expected to see the parking problems solved. I expected and I was wrong.
Following the horrific accident which killed a child due to negligence I was even more surprised to hear a sink had fallen out of its basin. (You never heard about this? It was told to me by airport employees.) Really? What if someone had been in its path as it fell? Do we spend over millions of dollars for lack of conscience? Did the contractors not check their work or was the city in such a hurry to open that the little things were overlooked? (Please remember it is always the little things that mean everything.). Which was it?
The city of Birmingham and the airport need to begin being accountable. They can start with the parking. My husband owns a Ford F-150 truck. He travels as much as I do and is a frequent flier and a frequent visitor to the Birmingham airport. Finding parking is near to impossible in the OVERSIZED parking ONLY lot. Why? It is the closest area to the gates and every Prius and other small car is finding their space there. These selfish drivers do not understand that the oversized vehicles cannot find just ANY spot, they NEED to park in these spots. There is a reason they are marked as OVERSIZED VEHICLES ONLY. (Obviously these small car drivers show their ignorance by their inability to read.) Large trucks and SUVs cannot access the parking on higher levels due to the height of their vehicles. On our last trip out there were over 53 small cars in the oversized lot. There were no spaces for the vehicles meant to park there. We have been told it is the Birmingham Police Department’s responsibility to ticket the cars.
This is only a part of my frustration as NO ONE wants to be accountable for the parking fiasco. We have spoken with the parking controllers who have told us it is the responsibility of the Birmingham police. We have spoke with the Birmingham police who have told us it is the airport’s responsibility. We have voiced our concerns, as I am sure many others have, and they have fallen of deaf ears.
Yes, the new facility is nice, but how has it improved the travel experience in Birmingham? It has not. Esthetically it is a gorgeous facility, but let’s be honest–pretty is as pretty does. Until some party can stand up and take accountability for the problems nothing will be solved. I just want to know how and when on both the parking and fly by lanes, then, again, I only expect the finger to be pointed elsewhere, just as it was when a board was not secured to a wall.
Seems to me, no one is willing to step up and take on the responsibility.

When the concrete changes your view…

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It seems to get harder and harder to come back from the mountains. There, I exhale. I breathe. I meditate in God’s wonders. I take in nature and I see the world through a different lens. Simply, I live.
Riding on the mule at sunset I drove through the canopy of towering trees as fireflies glistened all around me. In some ways it all seemed very surreal, like I had been tossed in a tunnel of thousands of cascading lights. I rode in awe of the forest around me. There are days when I feel I have been enveloped by nature and I behave like a child seeing things for the very first time. I am giddy over the wild turkeys, the little bunny rabbits and the deer who stood and held our glaze.
Maybe that is it–seeing through new eyes, like a child. I have no expectations of what the mountains will bring and I hold an amazing respect for all they hold. It is the simple things–the rain approaching through the trees that begins with a murmur and lands with a strong burst. It is the way it can be pouring, but the trees provide an umbrella of refuge. It is watching a storm brew in the distance from the ridge as the clouds form what looks like the ocean. It is the feeling that the real world is so far away and life, like my little mountain town, is simple.
I like it that way.
I never realized just how easy it can be to take life at a slower pace, to breathe in the wonder of the mountain’s beauty and how a ponytail and no makeup beats a flat iron and heels any day. It is the view from a pair of “tenny shoes”, covered in mud and the smell of Off. It is ending the day with a ride through the woods with family, laughing at the day and looking forward to tomorrow. It is simple. It is peaceful. It is a part of me now.
I like that.

On beginnings and endings, gliders and porch rockers

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My Granny Baylor had a great house where my Momma and her four sisters grew up. It was the house where I spent the first two years of my own life, rocking in her Naugahyde green rocker watching the Edge of Night, her ‘stories’ as she called them. I remember the floor furnace which my own siblings and cousins had convinced me was the gateway to hell. I never walked across it out of pure childhood fear and also was fast to pee in her bathroom since my sister made it known that rats would come through the sewer and bite you on the ass. I loved the L-shaped screened porch with the wooden rockers and the glider where we all spent time on as children. I loved her house, not just for all of its comforts and memories, but for what it represented…a wonderful togetherness of family.
Years after Granny passed I remember Momma and my Aunt saying how wonderful it would be if we moved the house to the beach. Ah! What a grand idea! A wonderful home, wonderful memories and the beach!!! Can’t you just imagine sitting out on Sullivan’s Island with a cocktail In your hand gliding or rocking and listening to the ocean waves? Watching the sea oats sway as you came back for your nightly sunset walk??? Oh! I could too!!! Problem is, it never happened. It never happened.
As we grow older we all remember the talks of our friends and relatives about where they wanted to go, what they wanted to do, how their lives were going to be ‘different’ in some way from how they grew up. It always has saddened me to listen to loved ones on their death beds speaking of all of the things they wished they had done. All of their dreams never realized. Time had simply, ran out.
Why is it we let time determine our course? Is it out of fear? Is it thinking we will actually get to it, eventually?? Is it that we really want more, but we let life get In the way?
After Daddy passed away in December of last year it brought back so many memories of the things my parents never did. They wanted to head back and see my Aunt in Oklahoma. They wanted to spend more time with us kids. They wanted to travel. They wanted, but they never did.
Three months later my husband and I sent a letter to the man who owned the 9 acres ten acres away from my sister. Nine days later, he called.
That night I had a wonderful dream about Momma and Daddy. It was a wonderful dream in a couple of ways. It was the first time I ever dreamt about the two of them together since they both had passed and The Lord always gives me the answers I need in my dreams. Always.
In my dream I am with my “work wife” traveling and laid over in Atlanta. She suggests we road trip. When we arrive in the mountains, my (deceased) parents are sitting in Daddy’s mule and Daddy says “Hey! Willy! Let’s go see your new land!” I knew when I woke up my husband and I had made the right decision–live your life for today and buy that land.
Live your dreams. Buy that piece of property that makes your soul strong! Go see your old friends! Travel to somewhere, even if is only a town away. Move that family house and make it your beach house. Quit wishing and just make it a reality.
We did.