Travels with Beaverhausen: Arrival, Cape Coral FLA

Landed safely in Sarasota on a wing and a prayer, as is said. Actually, it was a very safe flight with only brief tubulence mid-way on our trip down the Atlantic.

I flew JetBlue because the price was right and they have better snacks than most airlines. I had popcorn chips and Graham Crackers, plus water and tomato juice on the rocks. Any type of being catered to, no matter how small, is appreciated these days. But remember when airlines actually served meals during a four-hour trip?

I miss the glory days of airline service. That's why I loved watching Christina Ricci in ABC's Pan Am. Too bad it was a flop! Modern audiences don't appreciate the days when air travel was a classy, dress-up affair.

After high school, my friend Mike Stein and I went to California on summer vacation for a week. We wore jackets and ties as was the requirement back in the day. Now, passengers are mostly relaxed, though business people still dress up. On our flight, casual didn't get sloppy. I.e., no pajamas or sweat suits, thank God. Certain types of formal in these times can actually be a security problem. For example, burkas.

After reading and staring up at the endless infotainment played and replayed again and again on the mini-monitors built into the seat-backs in front of us, we finally began our descent. It was such a relief to de-plane, boss, de-plane!

My cousin, Walter and his wife, Sue, met me at Sarasota airport after a short wait. I didn't mind waiting because that airport is quite chic. Glass elevator, art displays, central man-made fountain. Beautifully landscaped, modern design, nicely laid out. Parrots roost in the palm trees in the parking area, that's how nice this place is.

Walt and Sue pulled up outside, called me on the cell, and I dashed down, hopped in and we were off. They live in Cape Coral. It is a long ride (about an hour and a half) driving by highway, down the Gulf Coast, from Sarasota to Cape Coral. Beautiful, tropical country but, oh, the humidity! Before we left Sarasota, we stopped for some killer Mexican food. Popcorn chips can only take you so far. Kept me quite sated through the night.

The aforementioned Mr Stein, by the way, lives on the East Coast of Florida but will be making an even longer drive to see me on Saturday. Ah, Florida, I'm back at last!