A Trio of 60somethings at the Atlanta airport

Right after establishing my blogspot, I left the country for most of October.

Jim drove me to the Atlanta Airport. The drive from Birmingham was excruciatingly tedious because all the way through Atlanta we kept getting stuck behind FEMA's houses on wheels on their way to Mississippi and New Orleans.

I got to the British Airways gate after going through the cattle corral, ehrm, I mean, the security checkpoints at Atlanta's International Airport. I deposited all of my accoutrements (laptop plus carry-on and purse) on the seat next to me. I was early enough that very few seats were filled in the gate area but 15 minutes after settling in and beginning to peruse my mother's journal of childhood memories, a small troop of retired Atlanta ladies surrounded me. They were wearing tour badges that would identify them to their guides and to each other. The three ladies were somewhere in that nether region of age that is impossible to pinpoint but they reminded me of my mother and Aunt Eleanor. Their obvious excitement about the trip was contagious and they were fun.

They engaged me in conversation and we became quick friends the way only southern women can. When they went purse diving looking for change for one of the ladies to call her daughter from the pay phone I offered her the use of my mobile since I have free roaming and long distance. The lady let her daughter know she was safely delivered at the airport and then had to explain why she was calling from a Birmingham number. Then another one of the ladies liked the novelty of using my mobile and called her son and so of course the other lady did the same.

I was enjoying the trio and even showed them photos of my cats when they started talking about their cats. They liked that I had photos of my cats on my phone. Yeah, I know, having your cats' pictures in my mobile phone practically sentences me to spinsterhood but I'll have you know I'm married (for the second time) so there. Anyway, back to my story. Just when the BA folks started calling rows to board, the jolly lady sitting to my left leaned over to whisper in my ear, "I was as scared as a negro at an election..." as a footnote to the just ended discussion regarding the first time she flew. Then they were gone and though I caught a glimpse of them at the Gatwick security corral, I never saw them again.