Inconvenience

In an age where one can transverse the country in a matter of hours rather than days, I would say that we frequently forget the complex maze of dependencies that provide this feat of convenience. It is only when this delicate balance of dependencies is interrupted that the cord of convenience begins to quickly unravel.

I've only had brief experiences of this scene we can glibly label "inconvenience". I've sat in a plane on the tarmac in Austin, Texas for several hours, while our flight between Los Angeles and Dallas was waiting out thunderstorms at our destination. I've driven a rental car the thousand miles along Interstate 20 after mine and all flights were canceled following the events we know as September 11.

All these events were bothersome in many ways, but these few occurrences were manageable because I was the one sitting, waiting, negotiating, and simply passing the time. This weekend my bride counted on the convenience to deliver her to a west coast destination where she was scheduled for several days of renewal and retooling associated with her vocation. Her trip was interrupted almost immediately with an hour delay from her port of embankment. What transpired the the convening 36 hours has been nothing less that inconvenience. A frantic race through the DFW airport to catch a connecting flight that made it as far as the runway and back in a mere three hours and half hours. Constant jocking for spots on alternative flights with every other passenger that was scheduled to depart the airport on that Saturday afternoon and night. Continuous visits to the ticket counter, very hour on the hour to check available flights and standby listings, an additional two hour wait to see if the luggage would make the next flight, a hotel room that was given away for reasons that escaped the not-so-courteous attendant at the front desk, and finally 24 hours of activities never to be recaptured-monetarily and in mind share.

It may make for a good story in hind-sight, but as a husband who's tasked with the unattainable goal of fixing little girl''s hair, I find it difficult not to be able to lend a hand of comfort or resolution. I listen attentively, text feverishly, and even parlay this unraveling account to friends in such a passive way, that I find myself wishing to change places. I don't think the end results would be any different were me rather than her, but at least she would be insulated from the frustration that brings about tears and I wouldn't feel so helpless knowing that not only can't I reach out in comfort, but I can't actually reach out in vindication.

Such an episode makes one pause to consider future travel plans, even those arranged to bring loved ones home. The silver lining, if I can reach beyond the constraints of a self-imposed realist view point, is that despite the inconveniences, my beautiful bride is safe. Appropriate decisions were made following certain risk assessments, and for that I can not nor will I fault anyone. So I fall asleep knowing that despite well articulated business plans hinged on the benefit of convenience, like all other elements of our world Murphy's law is in play making note that things can and will disrupt the best plans available.