Another day, another plane

About four years ago, Des and I went to see my dad in the UK. We went to one of those penny arcades and Des begged me to try to win him one of those toys in the claw machines — you know, the ones where you never win anything. He begged and begged, so as a life lesson, to prove to Des that life doesn’t always go the way you want, I took the only British pound coin he had (at his insistence) and slotted it into the machine. I prepared for the monsoon of tears about to follow.

I pushed the “start” button.

I randomly jiggled the controller.

The claw moved over.

I pressed the “drop” button.

The claw dropped.

The claw perfectly grasped a minion.

It’s the only time I’ve ever been sad to win anything. Now he thinks you win every time. Des always brings his minion buddy (his name is Dash) with him wherever we travel to remind him that life is a full of chances — and if you don’t play, you don’t win.

Here are the three of us at Roanoke Regional Airport on our way to Tampa to see the Red Sox play the Rays. The airport’s nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains. It’s one of the nation’s smaller airports.

On the shuttle bus from the hotel this morning, I jokingly asked Des which terminal we were flying out of. The shuttle bus driver overheard us. He said “Unless y’all are flying FedEx, you’ll be flying from the only terminal we have.”

Y’all — Love that.

I’ll leave you with this one — Des practicing his fastball inside the terminal at Roanoke. Look at him check the runner at first.

We’ll be back in Virginia soon.

Dad/Husband/UXer/Photographer/Brit/Yank/BWFC/Red Sox — Taker of photos and writer of a few words to surround them.

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