I am usually pretty good about taking pictures at the beginning of any vacation, adventure, or day out at the beach.  However once I am convinced I have a few good shots (defined as 'printable') I pretty much stow the gear and try to take part in whatever it is I came out for.  With photographic commitment like this you would have seen the Apollo 11 lift off, the Titanic leaving dock, the first pitch of the 7th game of the 1991 World Series between the Minnesota Twins and the Atlanta Braves but nothing after those initial events.

In the case of my recent trip to Minnesota this held form.  As you have seen from the last four entries on the topic, there has been a nice little photo essay to go along with the entries, but alas on the last two days I don't think I caught a frame.  It is a shame too since it was rare time my kids had with their cousins who all are growing faster than the deficit.  It was my only chance to see them as well, and rather than lining up everyone for my less-than-artistic-perp-walk photo sessions I thought I would just visit and let my kids enjoy the moments as well.

I guess it will have to be in my mind's eye...those moments I saw my daughter Campbell playing happily with her aunt Keri at the kitchen table (learning to spell words on the Barbie computer).  Or the less wholesome (but equally special) images of my son getting to partake in some fictionalized PlayStation 3 violence with his cousin Ben.  My kids love their cousins.  The morning of our flight Ethan was trying to squeeze in every last activity by tossing a football around with his lanky cousin Connor and Campbell was learning how to be a young lady from Emilee (who is on the dance team at my alma matter Fargo North High).  They don't see their relatives often, but the pride my children have for them simply beams.

I took the pictures from this trip with my phone which happens to have a relatively good 5 megapixel camera on it, it doesn't have a flash which explains why pretty much every pictures you'll get from me is taken outside (or from ridiculously favorable interior conditions).  I don't mention this to brag about my phone, rather to explain how I managed to get this picture (blurry as it is):



This is a picture of the woman who was in front on me when I lined up at the airport Saturday morning in Fargo.  It was a sad, if not foreboding site to be sure.  The woman in front of me clearly is not a traveler, and probably not of entirely sound thought.  She had a overstuffed suitcase held together with two bright pink straps, she was also carrying a purse and another handbag, several other bags and a few boxes.  It was such a mess you could probably could have heard the meow of a cat if you listened hard enough.

The patrons of Allegiant Air behind me were all in unison rolling their eyes with me, insert Vegas slot machine sounds and you might be close to the feeling of exasperation in the line.  The sole counter person was too busy processing people for the full flight.  This is Fargo, North Dakota people simply don't show up two hours before the flight...there is no reason to...well, other than this person.  When this woman clumsily shuffled what appeared to be an entire closet full of belongings to the counter the stress was instantly transferred to the agent.  It was a palpable experience.  Rather than speaking first, the counter agent caught knowing glances with counter agents from other airlines.  Their look said, "Good Luck with that."

You could tell this woman simply had no idea airlines had rules, charged for bags or ever heard there was something called 9-11 meaning everything suspicious has to be searched.  If I were a TSA agent I don't know where I would have begun, maybe the bulging bag with the pink straps that you could almost hear where string as tightly as guitar strings.  So, as the counter agent used all her powers of negotiation, child psychology and consolation to explain she would have to basically either pony up hundreds more to box and transport the rest or throw it away I started to tune it out.  At that precise moment my father pokes me on the arm and gives me a heavily over-articulated signal to take the picture, he whispers, "You'll want to write about this."  So, I quickly fished in my pocket for my phone, it wasn't there.  I had packed it in my laptop bag, but this woman wasn't going anywhere.  I pulled it out and tried to take the picture nonchalantly.

It is a cautionary tale I believe, I think I had convinced myself that the entire universe and a few creatures outside of it likely knew it was a pain in the butt to fly so you better be ready when you got the the airport.  I was wrong.  Clearly not everyone knows this.  Having taken the picture I slid the camera back into my pocket in case any more silliness ensued.  Shortly after that, after realizing an entire team of negotiators was required for this case, the woman with all the bags was moved aside and we were shooed through the ticketing process in less than 2 minutes.  We also quickly moved through security, and had only about 15 minutes to gather our thoughts before we got on our plane.  It is at this moment my son realizes he doesn't have his cell phone.  I instantly gave up hope of getting this before the flight.  Even though my sister only lives about a mile from the airport, what were the chances?  I didn't want us to be the next version of the packing nightmare I had just witnessed.  But somehow between my Dad and my Sister and the TSA agents, the flight attendant delivered the phone to my son with time to spare.

Drama averted.  The flight took off on time.

Less than four hours later at a Los Angeles baggage carousel my kids patiently huddle near some storage lockers as a loud "THUNK" grabs our attention.  It is a large suitcase with pink straps sliding down a delivery ramp and slamming into the rotating circle.  She made it.  And the wonders of the world never cease.