to nervous fliers that the ride to and from the airport is far more fraught with danger than the flight itself.


I have to concur there. I managed to get John to the airport, I won't bore anyone with the nightmarish details of how we finally managed to get across to the East Terminal (nothing like it used to be, that's for sure), and how I almost didn't find my way back to the car, and the police had to escort me out to the road I wanted because I couldn't find my way out of the maze of parking tunnels and ramps and couldn't breathe.

I'm not a flier, nervous or otherwise. It isn't me I was worried about, it was John, and he's just landed in San Diego, so now I'm ok till he flies back Thursday.

And Thursday night, someone is going with me to get him. I'm not doing THAT alone again.

Brenda