Driving Miss SJG

A long day of travel.  Incident-free.  Oh, except for the pat down at the airport.  It was my first time.   Clearly, I must've looked suspicious... of extreme silliness.  As the security gal ran her gloved hands over my torso and tush, telling me to turn this way and that, all I could do was giggle.  "Oooh, that tickles," I said.  "She's laughing," the security gal said to the security guy.  Guess they don't get gigglers that often at LAX. But what else was I supposed to do?  Bark?  Sing?  What's that?  Stand there and be all serious?  Behave?  Oh.  Okay.  I'll do that next time.

Driving Mss SJG

At JFK, hubby and I were greeted by our driver.  How often do I get to say that?  Only when I travel with the big shot TV exec I wed a while back.  "Hi, I'm Josh," the driver said.  "Hi Josh, sorry about my headphone hair.  I wore headphones on the plane, to block out all the annoying people." "Your hair looks fine," Josh said.  "You're nice," I said.  Out came his life story.  It made the long ride into the city more enjoyable, not to mention, educational. Josh had been a musician, sold encyclopedias, and worked in the horse race business, before settling on schlepping people back and forth to the airport.  When he mentioned growing up in Stockbridge, Mass, I sang a little "Sweet Baby James." "... Now the first of December was covered with snow/And so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston..."

Wonderful book.  Stop what you're doing and read it.

"Funny you should mention that," Josh said.  "I've got a story about Stockbridge."  "Spill it," I said.  Out came the tale of his father, Mordecai Bauman, a Julliard-trained singer/cantor who started Indian Hill, a summer camp dedicated to the arts.  Many famous types passed through Indian Hill, including Carly Simon as a counselor, and Arlo Guthrie. "Hang on, I just read Meg Wolitzer's book, 'The Interestings.' It's all about that camp." Meg Wolitzer went to Indian Hill, too, and wrote a wonderful book about a fictional camp based on the original.  And there I was, talking to the son of the founder.  Now, if that's not a cosmic coinky-dink, tailor-made for the SJG, what is?