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Baby Talk
By Anthony Douglas Gere
In the airport the other day, I performed a striptease in front of totally complete strangers
better than Demi Moore did, dancing to Annie Lennox songs in the movie revolving around
the life of a adult entertainer. On the surface, its seemed like the most ridiculous time
consuming feat known to man. Beneath the surface, it alerts us on the many terrors ones
faces, and how vulnerable we really are amongst each other in the friendly skies and here on
the ground. Back in the days of old, we didn’t need hi-tech x-ray machines, metal detecting
walkways or a checkered code signal on your ticket, to separate you from others wanting to
gain entrance into a airport terminal. We simply took off our excessive jewelry, put our keys
and coins in a small container, and go about our way to catch our plane or flight to greener
pastures. But now, it’s like a bad episode of Mission Impossible just trying to get from one
place to another. Multiple questions, sterile smiles, and lines that rival a Broadway musical
like “ Rent, Wicked or The Producers”. But I don’t mine, really I don’t. I mean hey, if it takes
an extra thirty minutes to an hour, for me to feel secure that some radical with a agenda
beyond picking up their luggage in another zip code for me to feel safe, I’m all for it. Flying is
a luxury, and I think we sometimes forget how far we have actually come and gone. How
people used to travel across this beautiful land of ours (once we stole it) before the
innovation of flight. Riding for miles upon miles in covered wagons, on foot, horseback and
more. Fighting off the forces of nature, animals, pirates and what have you, just to get
somewhere. So though these new ways to protect us may seem sophisticated and trendy
and not in our favor, the premise on what they’re doing, is still the same and for our own
good. Or as my mentor would say, “ Life is just a re-run, performed on a new and improved
screen, with better equipment”.
Now I’m a person that has recently been blessed with flying in numerous ways. Besides
jumping out of them once upon a time for work and play, I sort of relish in the ability to see
things from above. I’ve mostly taken commercial aircrafts in my life, but have been blessed to
have had the ability to charter private aircrafts to take me places I needed to go. In all reality,
there really isn’t much difference in renting a jet or plane, besides the isolation, prestige, the
ability to join the mile high club or not sitting next to someone snoring or talking your ear off
when you want peace and quiet. The accommodations are a little bit better, because you’re
not cramped in a small place, or have to wait in line to use the bathroom. But all in all, I like
the interactions with people in the air, and personally prefer flying commercially. As I starting
to say in the beginning of this, I had just came through the security check point in the airport
the other day, and was sitting in a chair, putting back on my boots that I had to remove for
security reasons. I looked up for no particular reason, and seen this woman having a pretty
hard time with all she had with her. Apparently, she was traveling on vacation, and had three
small infants with her. They weren’t running all over the place, but they were doing what kids
do. There was no male companion in sight or at least, in the immediate area, so I assumed
she was traveling alone. The oldest child looked around seven or eight years old, where the
middle child, four or five. The third and youngest was asleep in a stroller, and this woman
had her hands full. Now the security staff was doing their best in assisting her, but they had
a job to do. They had to concentrate on their jobs, and make sure people like me, were safe
from people not like me, or with different things on their minds. If I were a terrorist, finding
an overly kind person that could be distracted with a situation like this woman’s would be
ideal. She really needed some ones help, and no one was paying her the time of day.
People were just either looking upward like the didn’t see her, or looking down, mumbling
to themselves, “I’m glad I’m not her, and I have better things to do”. So as I laced up my
one remaining boot, gathered my things and debated if she needed my help or not, I
caught the eye of the middle child, looking at me. After he seen I seen him looking at me,
he ran towards his busy mother, and proceeded to grab a hold of her free leg. He did this
out of comfort and an unknown fear I think, and it was completely understood by me. I
mean hell; there are thousands of people walking by the child, and with him being so little,
I’m sure he felt like Gulliver on an Island of giants. As I got closer to the woman, the child
turned his head away from me, as he seen me making a bee line towards the group. I
extended my hand and said to her, “ You look a little busy, can I assist you in any way”. Well
she looked up from her slumped position in trying to put on the eldest shoe, and gave me a
stare like I was a steak and she, a vegetarian. She was in utter disbelief that someone had
stopped and felt her frustration. After noticing her stand upright and exhale silently, she said
yes, she could use some help. She asked me to go over to the conveyor belt, and gather up
the things she sent through the x-ray machine, and bring them over to her. So as told, I left
the group with a slightly turn head, keeping eye contact with her, to make sure I didn’t grab
anyone else’s belongs, and found a bin with keys and trinkets on them, depicting her as the
owner and obvious mom. As I brought them over to her, my newfound leg-hugging friend,
was still holding on for dear life, but now, a little more relaxed. I handed her the bin, and she
smiled in compete gratitude.
By Anthony Douglas Gere
In the airport the other day, I performed a striptease in front of totally complete strangers
better than Demi Moore did, dancing to Annie Lennox songs in the movie revolving around
the life of a adult entertainer. On the surface, its seemed like the most ridiculous time
consuming feat known to man. Beneath the surface, it alerts us on the many terrors ones
faces, and how vulnerable we really are amongst each other in the friendly skies and here on
the ground. Back in the days of old, we didn’t need hi-tech x-ray machines, metal detecting
walkways or a checkered code signal on your ticket, to separate you from others wanting to
gain entrance into a airport terminal. We simply took off our excessive jewelry, put our keys
and coins in a small container, and go about our way to catch our plane or flight to greener
pastures. But now, it’s like a bad episode of Mission Impossible just trying to get from one
place to another. Multiple questions, sterile smiles, and lines that rival a Broadway musical
like “ Rent, Wicked or The Producers”. But I don’t mine, really I don’t. I mean hey, if it takes
an extra thirty minutes to an hour, for me to feel secure that some radical with a agenda
beyond picking up their luggage in another zip code for me to feel safe, I’m all for it. Flying is
a luxury, and I think we sometimes forget how far we have actually come and gone. How
people used to travel across this beautiful land of ours (once we stole it) before the
innovation of flight. Riding for miles upon miles in covered wagons, on foot, horseback and
more. Fighting off the forces of nature, animals, pirates and what have you, just to get
somewhere. So though these new ways to protect us may seem sophisticated and trendy
and not in our favor, the premise on what they’re doing, is still the same and for our own
good. Or as my mentor would say, “ Life is just a re-run, performed on a new and improved
screen, with better equipment”.
Now I’m a person that has recently been blessed with flying in numerous ways. Besides
jumping out of them once upon a time for work and play, I sort of relish in the ability to see
things from above. I’ve mostly taken commercial aircrafts in my life, but have been blessed to
have had the ability to charter private aircrafts to take me places I needed to go. In all reality,
there really isn’t much difference in renting a jet or plane, besides the isolation, prestige, the
ability to join the mile high club or not sitting next to someone snoring or talking your ear off
when you want peace and quiet. The accommodations are a little bit better, because you’re
not cramped in a small place, or have to wait in line to use the bathroom. But all in all, I like
the interactions with people in the air, and personally prefer flying commercially. As I starting
to say in the beginning of this, I had just came through the security check point in the airport
the other day, and was sitting in a chair, putting back on my boots that I had to remove for
security reasons. I looked up for no particular reason, and seen this woman having a pretty
hard time with all she had with her. Apparently, she was traveling on vacation, and had three
small infants with her. They weren’t running all over the place, but they were doing what kids
do. There was no male companion in sight or at least, in the immediate area, so I assumed
she was traveling alone. The oldest child looked around seven or eight years old, where the
middle child, four or five. The third and youngest was asleep in a stroller, and this woman
had her hands full. Now the security staff was doing their best in assisting her, but they had
a job to do. They had to concentrate on their jobs, and make sure people like me, were safe
from people not like me, or with different things on their minds. If I were a terrorist, finding
an overly kind person that could be distracted with a situation like this woman’s would be
ideal. She really needed some ones help, and no one was paying her the time of day.
People were just either looking upward like the didn’t see her, or looking down, mumbling
to themselves, “I’m glad I’m not her, and I have better things to do”. So as I laced up my
one remaining boot, gathered my things and debated if she needed my help or not, I
caught the eye of the middle child, looking at me. After he seen I seen him looking at me,
he ran towards his busy mother, and proceeded to grab a hold of her free leg. He did this
out of comfort and an unknown fear I think, and it was completely understood by me. I
mean hell; there are thousands of people walking by the child, and with him being so little,
I’m sure he felt like Gulliver on an Island of giants. As I got closer to the woman, the child
turned his head away from me, as he seen me making a bee line towards the group. I
extended my hand and said to her, “ You look a little busy, can I assist you in any way”. Well
she looked up from her slumped position in trying to put on the eldest shoe, and gave me a
stare like I was a steak and she, a vegetarian. She was in utter disbelief that someone had
stopped and felt her frustration. After noticing her stand upright and exhale silently, she said
yes, she could use some help. She asked me to go over to the conveyor belt, and gather up
the things she sent through the x-ray machine, and bring them over to her. So as told, I left
the group with a slightly turn head, keeping eye contact with her, to make sure I didn’t grab
anyone else’s belongs, and found a bin with keys and trinkets on them, depicting her as the
owner and obvious mom. As I brought them over to her, my newfound leg-hugging friend,
was still holding on for dear life, but now, a little more relaxed. I handed her the bin, and she
smiled in compete gratitude.