Christmas, Pt. 4

Of course I have a license, of all the ridiculous questions to ask!  I mean, my vision isn't perfect but I passed the test.  More or less.  At least my car is a car, you see these new things made out of plastic or composites and it's a wonder that anyone survives a crash anymore.  Randy proclaims it wasn't as terrifying an experience as he expected, bah.  Too much time with a chauffeur driving him around the streets of big cities.  If you ask me, he's forgotten what it's like to actually drive.

At least he had the good sense to complement my dress.  Not like its often I put on such clothing, too impractical.  But for Christmas and company I'm willing to make an exception.  Like practical attire is a big issue when serving a meal or unwrapping presents.  My estimate was a bit conservative I admit.  It was more of about forty five minutes then an hour.  We could have made it in less time if he hadn't kept shouting every time some hot rod in an SUV or state plow truck got in the way.

We had a chance to catch up before Sara and Jeanie arrived.  There seemed to be a fair amount of people gathered around at Hampton Bays, but we staked out a bench facing the platform and no one wanted to bother us.  After the first kid I warned off with a stern look, sent her scampering back to her mother.  It'd been too long since we actually had a chance to talk face to face.  Everything's fine down in Virginia and DC according to Randy.  He ended up selling the two acres off to the county rather than have them condemn it.  Told him he should have fought them tooth and nail, what the hell does northern Virginia need with another road for anyway?  

Apparently there's some sort of conference in California in April.  Some big wig at a museum out there decided to do a thing about mother, and they want me to speak.  Don't know why exactly they couldn't contact me directly, he proclaims I'm "hard to reach".  Ha!  I'm in the phone book; my PO Box shouldn't be hard to find either for that matter.  So what if I don't do 'e-mail' or 'surf the web'?  Please, if it isn't feeding me aircraft plots, weather data, or asset availability I want no part of it.

Every week or so I mail off a bundle of letters at the post office, costs are bad yet since I still have a reserve of those forever stamps they sell (and a couple books of unused Oregon Territory commemoratives).  It may be slower, but they get there.  Some to the paper, most to friends I want to stay in contact with.  Of course quite a few end up going to the same place, but separate envelopes for better security.  Better than nothing I suppose, but it's getting to the point where I can't tramp cross country to see my chums.  Certainly can't drive the gas fiend very far either.

Train was on time, the railroad's pretty good about that sort of thing but it can be iffy.  Jamaica Station is a god awful place to try and find your right train, signs couldn't be more useless.  Good thing Jeanie noticed before they got to Port Jefferson, or they'd probably be stuck.  Radio says the tracks are closed over that way too.  

I believe I practiced admirable restraint for someone in my position.  Randy didn't have to stop me from jumping up and down or anything.  Did pace a bit, but so what?  It isn't every day I get to see my best friends in one place at one time.  I don't think it would be (too much of) an exaggeration to say time slowed a beat or too as I scanned the windows for a familiar face.  There was no doubt in my mind they'd have found a window seat.

Must have been the other side of the train though, because I didn't see them and I definitely looked close.  More people were on board too, everyone who would have gotten off at the last five stations.  Large crowd or not, I'd find them.  Putting my shoulder into the mass of people, a little pocket formed around us.  I'd picked a spot about midway on the platform to watch all the doors, for visibility.  

There they were third car from the rear! Pushing Randy ahead to prevent the crowd from running into me, I plowed towards them.  Sara was pulling Jeanie out of the way of a man on talking to himself loudly who seemed intent on swinging his bag towards his fellow travelers. Taking one hand off of his back, I leaned around Randy and called out from about ten feet.  It's hard to tell, but Jeanie's got a heck of a lot of strength, although she usually has enough restraint not to tug someone along behind her.

She is very enthusiastic, and I suppose I did get a bit carried away myself, but in my defense that woman should have been paying better attention to her surroundings.