first class

i am on a train speeding towards a business class lounge and a big seat that i will sleep in while being near-magically transported from west to east. as i feel the sensation of quickly gliding forward i tap my foot to frank black’s cries of “that educational” place where i used to have bagels and tacos with my kids. i watch the windmills slowly turn in the distance and the water pass under the bridge i cross from flemish to dutch territory. i think about the power those windmills create, power like that i am using to charge my phones, ipod and laptop for the coming twelve hour flight.

i have a 3g connection to allow me to send email while i float from my best friend’s home town to my favorite airport. i spent the week working to resolve some long standing issues, and ended that work time out with the boys deciding what color was best (red, orange or purple… i voted for purple and worry about “dark helmet” at times). i woke up yesterday morning after sleeping less than three hours and had a car waiting to whisk me to the airport. last night, i attended a party where i was introduced as a special guest; and then i slipped out and walked in the rain for two hours. i got wet, but i enjoyed beignet, boudin noir, foie gras and champagne avec friase; god loves europe, if not why did he put so much amazing food there.

after i slipping back into the party i was given tickets to have kirsch chaude, cherry beer served warm with a hint of cinnamon.  a strange combination, which i passed a few times will walking and just smiled at the craziness.  the combination was wonderful, and the hesitant first was not the last that i enjoyed. 

the party was conducted in two languages in which my competency is limited to social pleasantries and a few core words (hmmm, shockingly most are food and alcohol related). being language limited and knowing only one other person, one who requires frequent nicotine breaks that conflict with my limited ability to breathe through chronic bronchitis, translated to me spending a lot of time alone.

this was broken up by a nice conversation with the "second" most attractive woman at the party. she came over and struck up the conversation. in the middle of which she said, “i moved here to be with my boyfriend… ahhhhh, my friend”. that made me smile, and later her boss told me she moved to be with her husband… which made me smile again thinking about the earlier… ahhhhh, correction.

the highlight of the night was to get a hug and a european cheek kiss from the "first" most attractive woman at the party. after saying good-bye, she slipped her arm around my waist and gave me a bit of a hip snuggle. it was european-platonic; she was wearing a wedding band and i had been slipped the key to another beautiful woman’s apartment so nothing was going to happen. monique’s big soft bed was waiting, monique was not but the bed was really comfortable.

this morning was a late wake-up, i took a great shower, kissed a man i had never met on the top of the head and then sat down to breakfast with him. i got a hug from a little man who i love, even though he had no idea what i am saying when i tell him that. then i got kisses from two men who know what i want even before i think about it. the beginning of the day ended with the marriage of a princess.

so now i am passing though a gorgeous set of farm land, warm, light and happy. i have power, internet, two computers, tons of music, friends to send email to and memories to mull over as i continue to travel though life. the airport is getting close, it’s time to pack-up and make sure i leave the train with all the things i got on with. i have the car almost to myself and i am dancing to burnside, “someday baby you’re not going to trouble poor me…. anymore”.

as i am considering how blessed i am, just how good life can be and how much i enjoy what i do and the people i get to do it with, i am shuttered back to reality. there is a woman 5 rows in front of me. she is standing up glaring at me as i dance in the isle. the conductors just passed and simply smiled at me. they appeared to have no issue with my dancing in the near empty car, so i am not sure why frau-grumpy is directing evil eyes at me. i say “pardon?” i see the look of understanding as she hears my pseudo-euro accent and recognizes me as an american. recognition mixes with disgust as she realizes that yelling at me in dutch is not going to work. she switches to english to say “you can nut hev music, theer ar rouls”.

because the conductors didn’t mention rouls i weigh the upside of debate; but my mood is too good, i am in first class and loving it. i say, “okay let me turn the music down”. which i do to the point that i can barely hear it; i feel a flash of teenager angst for needing to be told to turn down the music. i look up and she is still standing and glaring out me.  i am not a teenager, so i add, “i turned it down, but i am still going to dance in the aisle” to which i add my career-practiced smart-ass smile.

i am sure this woman is in first glass to get away from the kids that bother her so much. she would rather sit alone in a quiet car and grumble about why life is so cruel. little did she know there would be a 40 something kid who travels the world, connected to the internet and fused with music, friends and smiles. one who can afford the EUR 53 for the comfy red seats from an airport surrounded by windmills to his adopted flemish town. a big kid with a desire to dance in the wide first class aisles and the freedom to do it. why be unhappy when you can enjoy life?

as i was typing this, muddy waters came on and sang, “i love the life i live, i live the life i love”. that is first class.