From the Air to StL

"Hola," my seatmate said as he slid into the aisle seat.

"Good morning," I replied, suddenly miffed at myself for not continuing the conversation in Spanish and, thereby, getting a little real-world language practice in. Instead, all my energy and focus was bent on downloading and saving a few student papers so I could grade them over Kansas.

Instead, upon takeoff, my seatmate and I began talking. His name is Sequoi. In St. Louis, he drives a Sequoia. Our dogs share certain characteristics, such as webbed paws because both share a genetic heritage to the Labrador. We're both trying to find ways to spend more time on our art, him with painting and me with writing.

He said he likes the window seat, but at 6'3", the space is too cramped to sit comfortably. So, I held my phone to the window and opened the camera view so Sequoi could see the canyons below.

Instead of grading over Kansas, Sequoi and I discussed the break-up of the American family, the long hours parents work, and the state's takeover of the youth. We discussed absent fathers and baby-men. "No woman can 'raise' a man after he's grown," Sequoi philosophized. "That was the father's job. The father is given a window of opportunity to teach his son to control his emotions. There's things worth crying about, but most of the stuff isn't. These people who allow kids to express every emotion are doing a disservice to the kid. Kids need to learn to control their emotions. What do you get when a teen boy can't control his anger? You get violence."

We talked about a lot of things, deep social contagions troubling our nation. Neither of us discussed politics. We discussed issues.

By the time we got to St. Louis, we felt like old friends. He walked with me through the airport, and we parted company at the rental car shuttle area.

From the shuttle bus and into a little red Corolla, I drove over to Della's house to drop off my carry-on and pick up my long winter coat. St. Louis felt much colder than Havasu.

"Your coat isn't here," she announced, but she had two of my other winter coats in a suitcase I'd left with her. I selected my puffy black ski jacket and slipped it on.

Next, I headed to Ria's house. She showed me around her place, pointing out all the new seasonal decorations. That's one of the things I love about my daughter: she decorates her house according to the season. There's always a festive feeling in the air.

We went to the restaurant where she works, and over a late lunch of pretzel bites and toasted raviolis, I met her coworkers and one of the managers.

From there we went to the vitamin store and the cute little gift shop next door.

Then, it was on to meet her boyfriend for dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory.

After dinner, she and he drove to their house, and I returned to Della's house. We stayed up late getting caught up on family, work, hopes, and goals.