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Decompressing for return to normalcy

I don’t depart from routine all that much, but when I do, the return to normalcy requires some decompressing.

I’m back on the job and back in today’s spot after a whirlwind trip to Wilmington, N.C., with my sister Cathy and my aunt from Chicago Land.

You missed me a little, right?

Anyway, we vowed to visit relatives there, intent to seize on a now-or-never sentiment and make no more excuses about not heading South for some long overdue family time, be it ever so blink, blinkety, blink, and it was over.

It was a bittersweet trip, though, coming to grips with the reality that time does not stand still and that life brings changes we don’t welcome much less understand.

But it was a trip, too, with many memorable moments, including gratitude that we made it there safely.

Unlike my traveling companions, I am no frequent flyer, and the older I get, the more claustrophobic I feel. At takeoff, I tried to look at the bright side of things and said a silent thank-you prayer that the trip wasn’t long enough for any movies, especially “Snakes on a Plane” or an encore presentation of “Titanic.”

It was all smooth sailing down, from Pittsburgh to Charlotte, N.C., to Wilmington, even though I kept beeping at the first gate checkpoint. Too much cheap bling apparently.

With a swelling population at 200,000 plus and some 4,000 restaurants, Wilmington is hardly a place where you’ll feel lonely or go hungry.

Our schedule included eat, gab, eat, gab, eat, gab, crash and burn. Repeat procedure.

Isn’t it funny how you can see people you haven’t been around in a long time and just pick up in conversation and comfort level right where you left off?

I love that about my Southern cousins with their roots from the Friendly City of Wheeling.

I loved, too, that I not only got to see family members who are dear to me, but I got a glimpse of the ocean, something I always appreciate, and a chance to take in a city where I spent two very special summers.

But it’s always good to get back home, though I wondered if that was going to happen.

A fire at the Charlotte airport delayed the trip, so eating there was part necessity, part activity to pass the time.

Talk about sticker shock. Two bagels, two bags of chips, two bottles of water came to $27 and some change. Wow. Hide that receipt from Better Half, I thought to myself.

Flying back at night made me uncomfortable, I assure you.

For distraction, I browsed through a magazine that featured odd things for sale, most of them luxury items or trinkets and gizmos you can’t find anywhere else. I had to laugh, though, when I came across the manual typewriter selling for $249.95. Really?

The sales copy read, in part, that this typewriter was “devoid of technological crutches such as spell check and deletion. Each of its 44 keys requires a firm, purposeful stroke.”

Who writes this stuff, I wonder.

Obviously someone who needs to decompress and return to normalcy.

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