Sunday, July 12, 2009

San Antonio is Not The Middle of Nowhere

... or (not so) little things that can put your kids in a very good mood.

So we were taking my husband to the airport at an ungodly hour this morning. Or maybe for some people is was a truly righteous hour -- 4 am -- but for me, that's just wrong. It's a time when you're either fast asleep and deep in the most inspiring dreams, or awake and writing in the throes of insomnia.

Or in a murderous mood plotting bloody demise because some neighbor's dog... No, I think that was in a story, and I'll stick to that.

Anyway, this morning, I was at the airport with my daughter keeping my husband company while he was checking in. We shuffled with the other half-awake zombies in the long line at United, wondering why some people got special treatment and what we could do to speed up the process next time. At least I did. Who knows what went on in my family's sleepy brains.

No one waited in the first-class line, of course. The three people who breezed through received personal attention, and accepted it with good humor and gracious smiles, not as their dues, but with a pleasant, friendly attitude. I'm not sure why I paid attention to them. Maybe it was because they looked just like people next door, not like any typical first-class traveling San Antonians (I don't know what typical first-class traveling San Antonians should look like, but apparently they weren't it).

I did notice their clothing. It was normal. It wasn't flashy, or fancy, or fashionable, it was just comfortable, cute, and normal. They looked like happy people doing something they enjoyed, satisfied with their existence -- living a life we should all aspire to.

As always, I worried about the long wait, the early hour, and having my husband travel by himself, and being left alone to take care of the household, so I didn't pay much more attention to the first-class travelers for a while. When I looked at them again, I got a full-face view of the man.

I turned to my daughter. She grinned and nodded. She'd recognized him too.

Naturally, realizing that something was going on, my husband switched to Russian and we had to explain without naming any names or titles that we just saw Cesar Milan, the host of the Dog Whisperer.

Just like that. In the regular San Antonio airport taking a regular United flight, except in first class (well duh, I would too if I could afford it).

No, we didn't get any autographs, no one made any fuss, we didn't squeal or anything, we just let him have his quiet boarding, but we had our little unexpected adventure.

In the words of my daughter, it put her in a great mood for the rest of the day. "Of course, if it had been one of my absolute favorite stars, I'd have been in a puddle right then and there, but it was Cesar Milan! That's just like the coolest!"

We spent the drive home speculating about his trip, and trying to list the big names who live in San Antonio.

You think San Antonio will feature on a future episode?

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