Travels and Stuff

“Take your shoes off!” She said in her rasping gravely voice “take your bloody shoes off!”

The metal door frame siren is a continuous beep as the looming figure of a broad shoulders overweight man looks back at his wife in pure scorn.

“My shoes!?”

“It's the shoes! I took my shoes off, you need to take yours off as well!”

He reaches down, lifts the leg of his jeans and with shaking hands slides his thumb in between the right tanned worker boot and slid it off.. Then grab the other shoe exhibiting all signs of a man that had enough, a man who was trying to hold onto his temper and failing, a man who is about to fall all intensive purposes is about to blow.

With both shoes in his hands muttering “I'll take my shoes ofd, you see I'll take my bloody shoes off!' he half shoves half throws them to the awaiting security officer.. The shoes bounce off the awaiting man's chest and falls to the conveyor belt and one to the floor.

The security officer looks down, then he looks up, he breaths in and out.

"Sir, if you show any more aggression at this stage you will not be processed.” he monitored by of the broad shouldered man.

“But the bloody shoe-” he began to retort

“You have been warned once sir, I will not warn you again. If you show any more aggression then you will not be processed. Sir do you acknowledge this?”

All this happened whilst I stood patiently to have my item scanned, on a Thursday morning, on a humble flight to Sydney.

I follow them through, ignored for the first time in forever by the bomb inspection chap. And as I walk I expect to hear the continuance, no the escalation of the argument so passionately started before.. Instead the the wife walks up the man, now hunch shouldered and looking the very picture of ashamed. Her right arms moves to the centre of his back and rubs it up and down consolingly. “sorry love” he said and smiled sheepishly. The words are lossed but they walk off together. The arm however is still rubbing. They walk close and together and I smile to myself at the love of an old married couple.. It has cracks, it is a little worn and maybe frayed a little on the edges but the endearing spirit of two people ten twenty or so years into their life's journey is something truly to behold..

Is there anything more beautiful than an old married couple still acting in love? More beatiful than young love, for all its fire and energy.. Two young logs thrown together and the flame lick higher and higher.. But no coals.. Nothing substantial.. A small gust of wind, a little water and it's all gone.. And old married couple.. That like two large logs burning on a bed of coals. It says “we may not burn the brightest, but we have been her almost all night and darling, we can burn for allot longer yet. So burn with me, burn with me”

I even love the silly jokes that are only funny to them “Oh darling I don't need sugar, I'm sweet enough” or “I swear you are deaf as a post… What!?” with a grin to follow..

Old love.. There is nothing like it..

Maybe a puppy in a onesy'

“Oh no the Camry is a blood good car!”

“Bugger of! The Camry!?”

“bloody. Good. Car! Take my word for it she goes”

“She goes does she?”

“Like the clappers! Really bloody responsive too”

I'm seated in row 19a and the two guys behind me in 20a and 20b set their volume to 11 and start and continue to talk about cars for the entire trip..

I really don't like cars.. Well they start to interest me when they reach the $200,000 mark or the one time one cars you get at concept shows.. But a Camry? That is not worth a 40 minute discussion. This is the time I pull out the blessed noise cancelling earphones. They drift away into white noise and I kick back and relax

Sydney here I come.