Jen Jeffey Billington: The Homely, Rejected Doughboy

  • Thursday, December 8, 2016
  • Jen Jeffrey Billington
Jen Jeffrey Billington
Jen Jeffrey Billington

Most likely I’m the only person who is sulking for having to be in Florida right now. In fact, I am sure most of my Chattanooga and Murray friends were wishing they were in the 80 degree weather as they read this.

From the moment I moved to my farm in Kentucky, I have said that I really don’t need a vacation because I am living where I would want to vacation.

If I want to be in a place of peace and also a place of vitality - a place that makes me feel alive, a place of beauty, a place surrounded by nature – I’m already there.

My husband had quite a few ‘out of town events’ this months in which he needed to travel. He first had to travel to Texas for his greyhound hobby and was gone for four days while I kept the home fires burning.

When he had to be at a Florida seminar for his insurance business right after he returned from Texas, he didn’t want us to be apart for that long, so he asked if I would go to Florida with him for six days.

“Six days! I can’t be gone from home that long!” I responded. I have not left our puppy overnight before and I love being near our horses and our family. But I also would not want to be without my husband that long, and I understand that even if I ‘think’ I don’t want a vacation, it is probably good to make myself go from time to time.

This wasn’t really a beach get-a-way though. Jason would be in class during the day and I would be in the hotel room working. But at least we’d be together in the evenings.

We left for Nashville Monday evening and stayed in a hotel and were at the airport early Tuesday morning.

This was the main part I was dreading. I didn’t pack much knowing there were limits on what liquids and gels you could have on flight. I planned to get the travel size bottles of shampoo, lotions etc. once in Ft. Lauderdale. I also don’t like the idea of ‘luggage being lost’ so I crammed tee-shirts, jeans and yoga pants in one small carry on and voila, I was good-to-go.

I knew I could live for six days without having the convenience of “my stuff” or a variety of clothes to wear, but the next thing to deal with was security checkpoint.

Reading on the internet about airport security and the x-ray thing, made me a little nervous just in case there were any truth to claims that ‘they can keep the picture of your body in their data which could be hacked and forever on the internet’. Yes, I just heard how ridiculous this sounded, but I haven’t flown much at all, so I wondered if I should go through the x-ray thing or be frisked.

So I told the security guy that I wanted to be frisked instead of going through the x-ray. I hoped he didn’t think I was just a desperate woman I need of a little TLC. He called on his radio (I am assuming for a female officer to come frisk me) and said, “We have a female opting out, a female opting out.”

Even though he didn’t physically roll his eyes, I heard it in his voice. We stood waiting together, but no female security showed up.

I watched security officers on the other side of the machine frisking my husband even though he had gone through x-ray. Apparently his oatmeal-denim shirt with metal snaps all over was too cool for their machine.

As I stood there waiting for a female officer, not only was I a ‘desperate woman in need of some TLC’ - now I was a desperate woman rejected.

Jason had gone through the x-ray in a flash and was waiting on me. I love and appreciate my kind, patient husband and the way he allows me to be myself, but I think about his feelings too and decided to get the show on the road and go through x-ray.

When I told the officer to just cancel the call for female security, he assured me that it did not take photos of my body, but just gave a ‘Pillsbury Doughboy’ silhouette. My brows furrowed. Now I am not only a rejected woman in need of TLC, but I am a rejected woman who looks like a Doughboy.

I raised my arms in the circle of doom and I saw the doughboy shape on the screen and it showed no metal or weapon. And it was over. I could now put my shoes back on and meet up with my husband.

We waited for over an hour, because Hubby said ‘they say to get here early’.

While we sat waiting for our flight I was typing notes on my phone and giggling. When hubby asked what I was laughing about, I read him my notes I planned to write in this story. He replied, “Now if you looked like Ivanka Trump, they would have been frisking you on the spot!”

That’s just great. Now, I was a homely, rejected doughboy in need of TLC.

When we boarded the plane, I got the window seat – which I deserved because I don’t sleep and I needed something to look at during the flight.

Of course the pilot had to inform us that we would be heading through a storm and would feel some turbulence and that added to my jumbled nerves. Whenever I am uncomfortable I always try to make the best of it and, sometimes I do this with jokes.

I asked Hubby if there was a barf-bag and he showed me where it was. I gave it a few minutes and then made heaving gestures as if I were about to be sick… on him. And I was convincing. He looked wide-eyed and told me NOT to joke like that – it’s not funny. It was funny to me.

The annoying ear-popping began as the plane lifted higher, but the turbulence part was not that bad.  I had no idea how it would only be a two-hour flight when it seemed we were just inching slowly over the geometric shapes on the ground.

The flight was fairly smooth the rest of the way and the sun shone brightly the closer we got to Florida.

As we hovered over the 3-D effect clouds, it almost looked as if there were clouds floating on different levels of water in the air. I would see the plane’s clear black shadow appear big on one cloud and then the shadow would jump to another cloud below and it would change in size.

This entertained me for a while.

After we landed and got off the plane, we headed toward baggage claim. Jason was leading the way but looked just as lost as I was, so I pulled out my “I’m a grown up too” card and raced ahead of him.

We got his bag and proceeded back up toward car rentals.

Then as usual, I missed our turn and he shouted, “This way,” and went up the escalator. I tried to make it look as if I did not miss the turn but was heading to the stairs and I ran up two flights of stairs leaving Jason lagging behind on the unhurried escalator.

As we came around the corner I saw the tread mill thingy and a bit winded, I hopped on. Jason laughed at me and said, “Oh come on-n-n-n!!”

After my George Jetson way of traveling down the corridor it brought me to where Hubby was waiting on me and we got our rental and arrived shortly at the Marriot.

My daughter in-law and son are taking care of our home, while our greyhounds and puppy Domino are boarded at the Murray Animal Clinic.

We have been here for two days now and I am already homesick. Last night, I stepped out on the balcony overlooking the city skyline and the sunset just wasn’t the same as in beautiful Kentucky.  

Planning for our trip, I didn’t get Monday’s edition to the magazine completed so I have been in the hotel room working toward next Monday’s edition while Jason attends class all day.

I miss my puppy, I miss my family and I miss my sunrises and sunsets over the fields of Kentucky. I miss my bed, I miss recliner, I miss my hiking trails and I miss my REAL vacation spot. Home.

Home is 32 degrees right now while it is 80 degrees here. Home will have work for hubby, errands for me, chores at the house… but home is the only place I really want to be.

 

jen@themurraymirror.com


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